As far from their pursuer as they possibly can go.
Spotting another house between the trees, they start to run again. Its about half a kilometer away, maybe even a little less. They hear the roar of a helicopter overhead somewhere but the sound fades as it moves on.
Bjorn looks dizzy; Penelope fears he wont be able to keep running much longer. His bare feet are raw.
Bjorn looks dizzy; Penelope fears he wont be able to keep running much longer. His bare feet are raw.
A branch breaks behind them. Perhaps underneath a human boot.
Penelope begins to run as fast as she can through the forest.
As the trees thin out more, she can see the house again. Its just one hundred meters away. Lights in the window reflect on the red paint of a parked Ford.
A hare leaps up and jumps away over moss and twigs.
Panting and terrified, Penelope and Bjorn run up the gravel driveway and clamber up the stairs to the house. They spring inside.
Hello? We need help! Penelope screams.
The house is warm from yesterdays sunshine. Bjorn, bare-chested and white with cold, is limping and leaves tracks of blood on the floor as he limps in. Penelope hurries from room to room, but the house is empty. The people who live here probably attended last nights party and are sleeping it off at the neighbors, Penelope realizes. She goes to the window and, hiding behind the curtains, peers outside. Theres no movement in the forest or over the lawn. Perhaps the man has lost their trail. Perhaps hes still waiting at the other house. She returns to the hallway where Bjorn sits on the floor examining the open wounds on his feet.
We have to find you a pair of shoes.
He looks up at her as if he no longer understands human speech.
Its not over. You have to find something to put on your feet.
Bjorn slowly begins to rummage in the closet and pulls out beach shoes, rubber boots, and old bags.
Penelope creeps past the windows in search of a phone. She looks on the hall table, in the briefcase by the sofa, in the bowl on the coffee table, and among the keys and papers on the kitchen counter.
She hears something outside. She freezes to listen.
Maybe it was nothing.
The first rays of the morning sun shine through the windows.
Crouching low, she hurries into the large bedroom, pulls open dresser drawers. Tucked among the underwear, she finds a framed photograph, a studio portrait of a man, a wife, and two teenage daughters. All the other drawers are empty. Penelope yanks opens the closet and pulls out a black hoodie for herself and an oversized sweater for Bjorn.
She hears the faucet run in the kitchen and hurries there. Bjorn is leaning over the sink, cupping handfuls of water. Hes found a pair of worn-out sneakers a few sizes too large.
This is crazy, Penelope thinks. There must be people all around here; we have to find someone who can help us.
Penelope hands Bjorn the sweater when someone knocks on the door. Bjorn smiles, surprised, and pulls it on while mumbling something about their luck turning. Penelope wipes her hair back from her face, and is almost at the door when she sees the silhouette through the frosted glass.
She stops abruptly and observes the shadowy form in the windowpane. Her hand no longer reaches out to open the door. She knows that stance; that head and shoulders. Thats the man in black.
All the air rushes from her lungs. She backs toward the kitchen slowly, her body tense and ready to run. Staring at the glass pane, she can see the blurred outline of a face-a face with a small chin. She feels dizzy, stumbles backward over bags and boots, and reaches to steady herself against the wall.
She finds Bjorn next to her, holding a carving knife with a wide blade. His cheeks are pale and his mouth is half open. Hes staring at the pane of glass, too. Penelope backs into a table as the door handle slowly turns down. Suddenly she races into the bathroom, blasts on the water, and yells loudly, Come in! Doors open!
Bjorn jumps and his pulse pounds in his head. He holds the knife out in front, ready to attack, when he sees the door handle ease back up. Their pursuer has let go. The silhouette disappears. A few seconds later, they hear footsteps crunching on the gravel path around the house. Bjorn looks stiffly to the right. Penelope emerges from the bathroom and Bjorn points to the window in the TV room. They move away into the kitchen as the man crosses the wooden deck. The footsteps reach the veranda door. Penelope tries to put herself in the killers head. Are the angle and the light enough to show the shoes tossed out of the closet and Bjorns bloody footprints? The wooden deck creaks again near the back stairs. Bjorn and Penelope creep along the floor and then roll right next to the wall underneath the window. They try to lie still and breathe silently. They can hear that the man has reached the kitchen window, can hear his hands touch the windowsill. They realize hes peering inside.
In the reflection of the window in the oven door, Penelope can see him look from side to side. If he stares at the oven, she thinks, hell see them too.