Leave the book or keep it?

If she kept it, she might have something to trade for Charlie’s life. But what if August was right? What if the only reason they were holding any of them hostage was to get the Gutenberg? Holding on to it would only make the situation worse.

How close was he?

April held up her watch, acting like she was reading the time. The reflection showed he was not far behind. And getting closer.

She held the book tightly in her arms. Letting it go seemed like letting Charlie go, like releasing the only power she had to keep him alive. But that probably wasn’t the truth. The truth seemed closer to what August had said. But what if he’d been misled?

It was a horrible decision.

Making the wrong choice could mean death for Charlie.

And Grandma Rose.

Not to mention herself.

April held up her watch again to take a peek at her pursuer. Was he closer? Yes. He was most definitely closer. Was he just following her? Or was he waiting for the right moment to pull her into a side alley and slit her throat?

April saw an alleyway ahead. She would have to cross it. There was no other path but directly across the alleyway.

But before it! Her savior! A bench! A perfect place to set the book and run away! It was a sign.

April kissed the book and placed it on the bench. And ran. She ran harder than she’d ever run in her life, which wasn’t much of an accomplishment. She’d barely ever stepped foot in a gym. Her slender appearance was the result of lucky DNA, not hard work. “Where do you work out?” people would ask. She’d usually tell them the Y, or someplace she remembered reading about in the paper. It was bad, lying to people, but it felt better than telling them the truth: that she did nothing. So while they tried their hardest and still got bigger around the middle, she ate ice-cream sandwiches and napped on her couch and woke up every morning feeling slim.

But now she regretted her laziness. She panicked a little. She was already running out of breath. There was that other part about the gym, wasn’t there? The keeping-in-shape part. She’d forgotten about that. She sucked in more air, but it didn’t seem to help. She ran harder. Her side was killing her. Was this what it was like to be a runner? To endure this kind of pain? She could never do it.

She tried to raise her arm, to peer into the dark reflection of her watch to get a view behind her. But it was jiggling too much. There was no way to know whether he was back there or not.