The man whirled around and stormed off, leaving a trail of furious words behind him.

“He’s got another set of keys! Stop fumbling with that thing and get us out of here!”

“I’m trying, but I can’t see . . .”

She grabbed the key from him, lined it up as she saw it must go, and slid it into the hole. Without a second thought, she twisted the key as their instructor had shown them earlier.

The Chevy roared and she jerked back.

Music boomed, louder than she could bear. Not just any music, but the sound of a man screaming, as if the musician was trapped in the motor and was protesting in no uncertain terms.

“Turn it off!” She jabbed at the buttons and controls on the dash. “Stop it!”

Her knuckle must have hit something right, because the music halted as abruptly as it had begun.

Johnis sat frozen. Both hands hovering over the steering wheel, enraptured or terrified or both.

“Here he comes!” The man was running back toward them with a key dangling from his right hand.

Johnis dropped his right hand onto the shift lever and jerked it back. The Chevy started to roll.

He gripped the leather wheel, knuckles white, staring ahead like a shocked monkey.

“Faster!” she cried, seeing the man close on them, sprinting now. “Careful, careful!” She jabbed her finger at the building to the right. “Watch the stable. Don’t run into the hill! Watch—”

“Silence!” Johnis shouted. “I’m trying to drive the Chevy!”

The man was on top of them, banging his palm on the window, cursing obscenely in words that made no sense to Silvie—but she understood the language of his red face clearly enough.

He used the shotgun again, jolting them both.

“Faster, faster!” They were going no faster to escape this monster than if they’d taken a leisurely stroll.

“Okay, okay!” Johnis leaned back, took a quick look at the levers on the floor, then pressed one with his foot.

The Chevy stopped abruptly.

“The other one!”

The car surged forward, effectively silencing them both. Like a rock flung from a slingshot, they sped across the ground and past the stables, heading directly for the sharp incline behind the station.

It was dark, but the moon was full, and Silvie could see clearly enough the metal fencing between them and the hill.

“Stop, stop; turn, turn!”

But Johnis did not stop. He’d frozen, like a boy on his first rope swing, swaying beneath the tall trees near Middle.

“Johnis!” Silvie grabbed the wheel and jerked it hard.

The Chevy spun wildly to the right. Its wheels squealed in protest. They narrowly missed a head-on collision with the fencing and were now racing beside it.

“Let go; I have it!” Johnis cried. Another fence cut across their path ahead, and seeing it, he yanked the wheel as Silvie had done.