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“Goldilocks? Dear?”
“What?” She blinked at him dazedly.
“Just shut up and enjoy the ride.”
“Hogwarts,” she said. “Cotton . . . candy.” This time when her eyes closed, the lids stayed down.
She began to snore lightly. It was a breezy sound, sort of pleasant. Crow didn’t think she was
shamming, but he continued to hold the hypo next to the geezer’s leg just to be sure. As Gollum had
once said about Frodo Baggins, it was tricksy, precious. It was very tricksy.
12
Abra didn’t go under completely; she still heard the truck’s motor, but it was far away. It seemed to
be above her. It made her remember when she and her parents went to Lake Winnipesaukee on hot
summer afternoons, and how you could hear the distant drone of the motorboats if you ducked your
head underwater. She knew she was being kidnapped, and she knew this should concern her, but she
felt serene, content to float between sleep and waking. The dryness in her mouth and throat was
horrible, though. Her tongue felt like a strip of dusty carpet.
I have to do something. He’s taking me to the hat woman and I have to do something. If I don’t, they’ll kill
me like they killed the baseball boy. Or something even worse.
She would do something. After she got something to drink. And after she slept a little more . . .
The engine sound had faded from a drone to a distant hum when light penetrated her closed
eyelids. Then the sound stopped completely and the Crow was poking her in the leg. Easy at first, then
harder. Hard enough to hurt.
“Wake up, Goldilocks. You can go back to sleep later.”
She struggled her eyes open, wincing at the brightness. They were parked beside some gas pumps.
There were fluorescents over them. She shielded her eyes from the glare. Now she had a headache to go
with her thirst. It was like . . .
“What’s funny, Goldilocks?”
“Huh?”
“You’re smiling.”
“I just figured out what’s wrong with me. I’m hungover.”
Crow considered this, and grinned. “I suppose you are at that, and you didn’t even get to prance
around with a lampshade on your head. Are you awake enough to understand me?”
“Yes.” At least she thought she was. Oh, but the thudding in her head. Awful.
“Take this.”
He was holding something in front of her face, reaching across his body with his left hand to do it.
His right one still held the hypodermic, the needle resting next to Mr. Freeman’s leg.
She squinted. It was a credit card. She reached up with a hand that felt too heavy and took it. Her
eyes started to close and he slapped her face. Her eyes flew open, wide and shocked. She had never been
hit in her life, not by an adult, anyway. Of course she had never been kidnapped, either.
“Ow! Ow!”
“Get out of the truck. Follow the instructions on the pump—you’re a bright kid, I’m sure you can
do that—and fill the tank. Then replace the nozzle and get back in. If you do all that like a good little
Goldilocks, we’ll drive over to yonder Coke machine.” He pointed to the far corner of the store. “You
can get a nice big twenty-ounce soda. Or a water, if that’s what you want; I spy with my little eye that
they have Dasani. If you’re a bad little Goldilocks, I’ll kill the old man, then go into the store and kill