Fight or Flight

Chapter One

Emerson

She’d spent hours with the rocker creaking softly beneath her, as she swayed back and forth, watching the moonlight cut a slow, deliberate path across the hardwood floor of her bedroom.

When the sun’s first rays of golden light pierced her window, they lit up the walls like fire, announcing, in all of its triumphant glory, the moment she’d been waiting for. It was now or never, and never was no longer an option she could live with.

Her body was tense with the combination of nerves and sitting in one position for too long, as she extricated herself from the chair. The hard wood seat and straight backing weren’t comfortable by a long shot, but then again that had been the whole point. She couldn’t risk accidentally falling asleep. She never would have woken on time, and an alarm was out of the question.

Silently padding across the room, she snatched her backpack from
the bed and hooked it over her shoulders on the way to the door. It was heavy, but that was a good thing. It meant she was well packed. She’d been working at it for days, collecting food, clothes, and as much money as she could get her hands on—fifty two dollars and eighty three cents. It wasn’t much, but she was determined to make it work.

Every sound—the click of the doorknob, the swish of her socks on the hallway carpeting—echoed in her ears. A blaring announcement of her disobedience for
all the world to hear. But if
he
heard . . . God help her.

Air locked firmly in her lungs—not even daring to breathe—she took the stairs cautiously, one at a time. Eyes and ears trained
on his door for any sign
he
was about to barge out and stop her. She’d been so careful. So careful for so long. She couldn’t blow it now. Not when she was so close.

The key to success was skipping the third to last step, which had creaked for as long as she could remember. Once she eased herself over it, it was clear sailing. Her boots were already waiting for her just outside the coat closet, where she’d left them the night before. They weren’t exactly stylish, but they were warm and durable, and they were going to have to last a while. She slipped them on and took one last look around. One would think that leaving behind the only home you’ve ever known would be difficult. It wasn’t.

Outside, the morning sun was just peeking over the horizon when she shut the door behind her. She’d chosen the early hour for several reasons, but mostly to avoid prying eyes. It was a small town, the kind of place where no one had any qualms sticking their noses into other people’s business and gossip practically floated on the breeze. In a matter of hours, she was going to be the new hot topic for the rumor mill and if anyone saw anything at all the entire town would know by noon.
He
would know. She couldn’t let that happen. Her entire survival depended on escaping without notice, something more easily accomplished at dawn on a Saturday.

Fifteen minutes later, her planning paid off. The train station doors swung open on automatic sensors, revealing a vacant space. The only sounds at all came from the automated PA system announcing times and destinations, and a few sleepy voices from the ticket counter around the corner. Even here it was likely that someone would recognize her. Thankfully, there were electronic ticket machines and technology didn’t tattle.

Feeding the white, hulking monstrosity seventeen dollars and fifty three cents, she typed in her destination and listened to it whirl and sputter for nearly a full minute before it finally spit out her ticket to freedom. The time on the ticket read 6:37. One glance at the station clock told her it was nearly time, 6:28. She hustled through the station house, keeping her long hair draped carefully across her face, toward platform B.

The train chugged into the station at
precisely 6:37 and before the doors had even finished opening all the way—before she could change her mind—she squeezed on board. This was it. No turning back. Her life was about to change forever. For better or worse, though, it was a necessary change.

The train car had two other occupants, both of whom appeared to be sleeping. An older man wearing a suit had his briefcase leaning against the window, which he was using as a makeshift pillow. Not the most comfortable looking arrangement, but it seemed to be working for him. The other passenger looked about her age, maybe a little older. His jean-clad legs were draped across the seat beside him and his back was pressed to the window. She couldn’t make out much of his face with his hood pulled up, but his eyes were definitely closed and the telltale, thin white cords dangling from his ears told her he probably wouldn’t be hearing anything either.

Stumbling ungracefully as the train abruptly jerked into motion, she took her cue and found a seat in the far back corner. After settling her bag beside her, she peered through the window as the train pulled out of the station. The tracks ran alongside town for a ways and then turned and cut through it. Two men were outside the post office raising the flag. Next door was old Mr. Frank’s house. Children still told scary stories about it and dared one another to trick-or-treat there on Halloween. Funny how no one ever realized that the true horror house in town had been hers.

As the train crossed Main Street, her eyes scanned over the many store fronts that weren’t yet open for business.
The florist, the bakery, the bank, the grocery store, and the pizzeria. All places she’d known and frequented her entire life. She took them all in—committing them to memory—as though she would never see any of them again. And if everything went according to plan, she wouldn’t.

Just beyond Main Street, the tracks entered a patch of woods that led away from her town, her home, and everything she knew. But that was the only way. The only way to escape was to leave it all behind. She took a deep breath and held it for a few moments to calm her racing heart. She could do this. She
had
to do this

***

“Final stop . . . must disembark . . . layover . . . platform D . . .” She jerked awake to the sound of the defunct announcement. The words were barely audible over all of the crackling and hissing the ancient speakers were doing, but she got the gist of it. This was her stop. For now.

Grabbing her pack, she followed the others out onto the platform. A few more passengers had boarded while she slept, but none of them gave her a second glance. She was completely invisible here. Exactly the way she wanted it.