The front left headlight had been smashed out, and even though I’d traveled the road to Maggie Pond a thousand times, in the darkness we almost missed the turn to my parents’ place. She yanked the wheel, and the Corvette slued through its own smoke. We thudded down a steep gravel incline and swung in front of the house.

It was a two-story white cottage with green shutters and a big screened-in front porch. A single stone stoop led up to the screen door. Safety was eight feet away, on the far side of the porch, through the front door. They couldn’t get us inside. I was pretty sure.

No sooner had we stopped than the horses surrounded the car, circling us, tails twitching, shoulders bumping the Corvette. Their hooves threw up dust and obscured our view of the porch.

Now that we were stopped, I could hear the thin, whistling wheeze Geri made each time she drew breath. She hunched forward, her brow touching the steering wheel, her hand to her breastbone.

“What do we do?” I asked. One of the horses swiped the car hard enough to send it jouncing up and down on its springs.

“Is it because we stole his money?” Geri asked, and drew another thin sip of air. “Or is it because I cut one of the horses?”

“Don’t think about it. Let’s think about how to get past them into the house.”

She went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “Or is it just because we needed killing? Is it because there’s something wrong with us, Paul? Oh. Oh, my chest.”

“Maybe we could turn around, try to get back to the highway,” I said, although already I doubted we were going anywhere. Now that we were stopped, I wasn’t sure we could get going again. The front end of the car looked like it had met a tree at high speed. The hood was mashed out of shape, and something under the crumpled lid was hissing steadily.

“I’ve got another idea,” she said, and looked at me from behind tangles of her own hair. Her eyes were rueful and bright. “How about I get out of the car and run for the lake? That’ll draw them away, and you can get into the house.”

“What? No. Geri, no. The house is right here. No one else needs to die. The house is right here. There’s no fucking way you’re going to pull some kind of movie bullshit and try to lead them—”

“Maybe they don’t want you, Paul,” she said. Her chest heaved slowly and steadily, her T-shirt plastered red and wet to her skin. “You didn’t do anything. We did. Maybe they’d let you go.”

“What did Nancy do?” I cried.