Home > Survive the Night

Survive the Night
Author: Riley Sager

 

CONTENTS


  Cover

  Also by Riley Sager

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Nine P.M.

      Int. Dorm Room—Day

   Int. Dorm Room—Night

   Ext. Dorm Building—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

 

  Ten P.M.

      Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Rest Stop Bathroom—Night

   Int. Rest Stop Bathroom—Night

   Ext. Rest Stop Parking Lot—Night

 

  Eleven P.M.

      Int. Rest Stop Building—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Diner—Night

   Ext. Diner—Night

   Int. Robbie’s Apartment—Night

   Int. Diner—Night

   Int. Diner—Night

   Int. Diner Bathroom—Night

   Int. Diner Bathroom—Night

 

  Midnight

      Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Ext. Diner Parking Lot—Night

 

  One A.M.

      Int. Dorm Room—Day

   Int. Diner—Night

   Ext. Diner Parking Lot—Night

   Int. Volvo—Night

   Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Cadillac—Night

   Int. Lodge Lobby—Night

 

  Two A.M.

      Int. Grand Am—Night

   Int. Lodge Lobby—Night

   Ext. Lodge—Night

   Int. Lodge Lobby—Night

   Int. Lodge—Night

   Int. Ballroom—Night

   Ext. Alley—Night

   Ext. Lodge Veranda—Night

 

  Three A.M.

      Ext. Lodge—Night

   Int. Volvo—Night

   Int. Volvo—Night

   Int. Volvo—Night

   Int. Volvo—Night

   Int. Volvo—Night

 

  Morning

      Int. Hospital—Day

   Int. Hospital Room—Day

   Ext. Lodge—Day

 

  End Credits

  About the Author

 

 

Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.

    —All About Eve

 

 

Fade in.

   Parking lot.

   The middle of night.

   The middle of nowhere.

   Beginning at the end, like a great film noir. Bill Holden dead in the swimming pool. Fred MacMurray giving his last confession.

   Going full circle. Like a noose.

   There’s a car, a diner, a neon sign in the parking lot fading to streaks in the rearview mirror as the car speeds away. Inside are two people—a young woman in the passenger seat and a man behind the wheel. Both stare through the windshield to the road ahead, uncertain.

   About who they are.

   About where they’re going.

   About how they got here, to this precise moment in time. Just before midnight. The final seconds of Tuesday, November 19, 1991.

   But Charlie knows what brought them to the cusp of this uncertain new day. As the situation unfolds frame by frame, like film through a projector, she knows exactly how it all happened.

   She knows because this isn’t a movie.

   It’s the here and now.

   She’s the girl in the car.

   The man behind the wheel is a killer.

   And Charlie understands, with the certainty of someone who’s seen this kind of movie a hundred times before, that only one of them will live to see the dawn.

 

 

      NINE P.M.

 

 

INT. DORM ROOM—DAY

   Staying isn’t an option.

   That’s why Charlie has agreed to get into a car with a perfect stranger.

   She’s promised Robbie—promised herself as well—that she’ll bolt if anything about the situation strikes her as shady. One can’t be too careful. Not these days.

   Not after what happened to Maddy.

   Charlie has already steeled herself for flight, mentally listing all the scenarios in which she should run. If the car looks battered and/or has tinted windows. If someone else is inside, no matter the excuse. If he seems too eager to depart or, on the flip side, not hurried enough. She’s sworn—to Robbie, to herself, to Maddy, whom she still sometimes talks to even though she’s now two months in the grave—that a single shiver of apprehension will send her running back to the dorm.

   She doubts it will come to that. Because he seems nice. Friendly. Definitely not the type of guy who’d do the things that had been done to Maddy and the others.

   Besides, he’s not a stranger. Not completely. They’d met once before, in front of the ride board in the campus commons, dwarfed by that wall of flyers from students desperate to get home and those eager to drive them there in exchange for gas money. Charlie had just put up her own flyer—carefully printed, her phone number placed on each meticulously cut tab—when he appeared at her side.

   “You’re going to Youngstown?” he said, his gaze flicking from her to the flyer and back again.

   Charlie hesitated before responding. A post-Maddy habit. She never willingly engaged with people she didn’t know. Not until she had a grasp on their intentions. He could have been making small talk. Or trying to pick her up. Unlikely, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility. It was how she met Robbie, after all. She’d been pretty once, before guilt and grief had sunk their claws into her.

   “Yeah,” she eventually said, after his gaze returned to the ride board, making her decide he was there for the same reason she was. “That where you’re heading?”

   “Akron,” he said.

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