ON THE ROAD LEADING OUT OF TOWN:

 

Kimble is hiding in the back of the van behind some boxes. He tenses as he feels the van begin to slow down.

 

Hollis grips the steering wheel as he brakes to a stop. Wiping the sweat from his hands on his pant leg, he sets the gun down on the floor beside the driver's seat and rolls down the window. Relieved, he sees the policeman approaching is someone he knows.

 

“What’s going on, Tom?”

 

“Sorry to hold you up, John, but we’re checking all the traffic leaving town. There’s an escaped murderer on the loose. He’s considered armed and dangerous. We think we have him boxed up in town. I’ll have to search the van.”

 

“Search if you like, but I just packed the back myself.”

 

“This won’t take a minute,” says the policeman, heading for the back of the van.

 

Looking up at the back door of the van, Kimble sees the door is unlocked. Hastily moving around the boxes, he reaches up quickly and pushes the button down. The only sound in the van is his breathing and the pounding of his heart. Hollis watches tensely in the rearview mirror. Kimble crouches low on the floor and holds his breath as he hears the click as the handle on the locked door is tugged and sees the shadow as the officer leans against the window to peer inside. Then he hears footsteps heading back around to the driver’s side.

 

“Door’s locked. Can you give me the keys?”

 

“Oh, sorry,” Hollis responds, clearing his throat. In his nervousness, he fumbles getting the keys out of the ignition. Handing them out the window, he says “I’d appreciate it if you’d make this fast. Terry and I are meeting friends for dinner. I’d hate to be late.”

 

Reaching for the keys, the officer hesitates, then looks at two cars stopped behind the van. “Well, seeing it’s you…”

 

A state trooper walks up behind him. “Did you check the back of this van?” he asks. As the other officer hesitates, he points to the cars behind the van. “Let’s move things along.” The officer grabs the keys and heads for the back of the van as Hollis wonders what to do next. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kimble reaching slowly forward to retrieve the gun and his hands grip the steering wheel harder.

 

Suddenly, the state trooper’s radio crackles alive. “The dogs have tracked Kimble to the old Washburn site. All troopers are to report there immediately.”

 

The officer looks up, eyeing a lengthening line of cars as the state trooper hurriedly tosses the keys to him and runs down the road. Approaching the window, Tom looks at Hollis. “Looks like this may be a waste of time after all.You sure no one could have sneaked into your van when you weren’t looking?” he asks, half-joking.

 

“I packed it myself and locked up right before I got in the van, Tom.”

 

“Well, go along then. But don’t pick up any hitchhikers.”

 

“You can count on it. I hope you catch him soon,” Hollis says, starting the car and putting it in gear. As the car pulls away, he glances down where the gun was sitting, seeing it missing. He looks anxiously in the rear view mirror to see Kimble peering cautiously out the back window, the gun gripped in his hand. Staring at the gun, his face reflects a new fear as he realizes he has a convicted murderer in the back of his van. His hands grip tightly on the wheel as he drives reluctantly away from the safety of the roadblock.

 

Kimble continues peering out the back window, until the car pulls around a bend and the police cars are out of sight. He turns and moves toward the front of the car. His foot catches on an upturned edge of carpet and he trips. Trying to catch his balance, the gun in his hand swings close to Hollis’ head. Alarmed, Hollis slams on the brakes and Kimble falls forward, dropping the gun. Hollis reaches out quickly and grabs it, aiming it at Kimble.

 

“What were you going to do? Kill me and steal the van?” he asks, his voice raised to a higher pitch in fear.

 

Kimble raises himself on his arms and looks at him in shock. “No, I tripped…”

 

Hollis nods at the gun. “Why did you grab the gun back there? To take me hostage if things went wrong?”

 

“No. Your cover story was that I forced you at gunpoint. That wouldn’t have been very believable if you had the gun, would it?”

 

Hollis looks confused. “You have all the answers, don’t you? I should never have helped you. I’ve lied to the police. I’ve helped a murderer escape…Maybe I should just turn you in, right now.” Hollis fumbles with one hand for his cell phone, his eyes fixed on Kimble.

 

Kimble looks at him in stunned silence. “What about your promise to Tim?”

 

“I care about Tim, but not enough to let a murderer go free.”

 

Kimble reacts to the stress of the last few minutes. “I didn’t kill my wife!” he shouts angrily. Then his voice softens. “I loved her.” Battling his emotions, he looks at Hollis.

 

“Believe what you want about me. But one thing is certain. Tim trusted you. If you turn me in, you’ll destroy that trust. You asked me to stay and help him, but I can’t. You can. If he trusts you.”

 

Hollis ponders his words and slowly lowers the gun. “You really care about him, don’t you?” He puts the gun back on the seat, but it slips and drops to the floor.

 

As Kimble flinches, Hollis shakes his head. "It's not loaded. A third-grader found it lying on the couch where his mother’s boy friend left it and brought it to school to show his friends.” Hollis runs his hands through his hair.  “There are a lot of troubled kids in the world, Dr. Kimble. Most of them wind up in my office sooner or later. I do my best to help the ones I can.” Looking thoughtfully at Kimble, he adds “And I think I’ve learned to tell the good from the bad."

 

Hollis looks out the window toward the river. "The train tracks run beside the river. There's a grade here; the trains always slow down. Railriders know its easy to catch a ride here." He looks back at Kimble and adds, "There should be one coming through soon. You better get going if you want to catch it."

 

“Thanks.” Kimble grabs his dufflebag and moves past him to the front seat. Opening the door, he climbs out and looks back. “Watch out for Tim.” 

 

Slamming the door, he turns and wades through the tall grass toward the railroad tracks. Hollis watches him walk away, then climbs into the drivers seat and puts the van in gear. He looks out the window at Kimble’s backward glance and calls softly after him, “Good luck, Dr. Kimble.”

 

 

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