The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn)

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The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn) Page 84

by Cecilia London


  Gabe had booked two sleeper compartments side by side to minimize their exposure to the rest of the passengers. The suites had a shared door with separate bathrooms and sleeping areas. They’d developed plausible cover stories if they were questioned, and practiced them numerous times. Caroline had cross-examined Gabe, Jonesie, and Crunch, testing their stories until they were exhausted. Maybe she hadn’t lost her skills. Too bad none of them could grill her as hard as she grilled them.

  It would take less than a day to get to Chicago if there were no difficulties along the way. Boarding was easy – bustling among others to get to their cabins, nothing more or less than anyone else was doing. No one had given her a second glance. They had yet to spot any soldiers or members of law enforcement. Maybe they could pull this off after all.

  They settled in for the journey and Caroline took a seat by the window. The snow in Washington had melted or been plowed away, but there were patches of white here and there as they rolled out of the station. Toward Rockville. Her old district. She recognized every feature along the route and closed her eyes to try to forget. But she didn’t want to shift away from the window. She might miss something that way. Gabe busied himself with a book in the corner, somehow knowing not to speak to her.

  It got more difficult as they traveled west. The rolling hills of Pennsylvania, the forests, the homes and churches rising up against the peaks and valleys. Her second home. Or third or fourth home. How could she be expected to keep track when she’d lived so many different places?

  Gabe silently read his book while Caroline remained glued to the chair by the window. She pressed her forehead to the glass, wanting to reach through it to touch the snowy grass, the barbed wire fences, the farms and hills. To slip into the fog rolling through then burning away before the sky clouded over. Geographic relics of a life she’d never expected to lead. She wanted to smell the air, kneel down and rub the dirt in her hands, feel human again. Raindrops skittered across the pane as the train rumbled on, her last few glimpses of the cities and towns west of Pittsburgh obscured by the moisture. Caroline closed her eyes. The people of Pennsylvania had embraced her. Until they hadn’t.

  Day faded into night and the landscape filtered into darkness. They were in Ohio now. They’d be in Indiana soon. They’d pass South Bend, pass her beloved Notre Dame. All those places that made her who she was, and she wouldn’t be able to see them. Not from the train. They’d roll into Chicago shortly before noon if all went to plan.

  Chicago. Chicago was her home. Her roots. She was going home. For a little while, anyway. The thought soothed her as she withdrew from the window to attempt to get some sleep.

  “Good to be out and about, right?” Gabe said.

  Caroline settled in next to him on the bed. He’d offered to take the top bunk but she wanted someone close to her, fearful she might have another nightmare even though they were leaving the lights on. Her bad dreams had become more unpredictable and had increased in frequency and intensity, and very little could be done to stop them.

  “Thanks for being here,” she whispered.

  He wrapped one arm around her waist. “No problem.”

  Caroline was always taking more from him than she gave. She felt rotten about it but needed the comfort. Gabe was more than willing to provide it. The rocking of the train on the tracks did nothing to ease her mind and she barely slept. Not an unusual occurrence, but she had hoped she’d be able to rest in a neutral environment. The morning sun started to filter through the windows of the cabin when she was jerked from her unsteady slumber by a pounding on the door.

  “Federal agents!” A stern male voice rang out loud and clear. “Cabin inspection.”

  Gabe stirred behind her. “What’s that?”

  She tried not to let panic creep into her voice. “The feds,” she said softly. “What do they want?”

  “Stay here,” he whispered, climbing over her and covering her with a blanket. “You’ve got motion sickness, all right? Too rough to move or you’ll get sick.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure how that would work but it was worth a try. If they were going to get caught, it may as well be before they got too far. Caroline heard Gabe unlock the door. She kept her eyes closed and her body tucked under the blanket. Would moaning be too much? Probably. She stayed quiet.

  “Good morning,” Gabe said.

  A gruff voice responded. “Papers.”

  “I’m sorry?” he asked.

  “Identifying papers,” the man said.

  “Oh.” Gabe laughed. “Sorry, it’s kind of early. Hold on.”

  She heard him rustling through his bag.

  “Who’s that?” the man asked. Caroline didn’t move.

  “My girlfriend,” Gabe said smoothly. “Doesn’t like to travel. Gets sick if she moves around. Can’t even get on a damn plane so we had to take a train to get her to Chicago. She’s pretty doped up so if you could keep it quiet I’d appreciate it.”

  She could hear the man rifling through papers. Their tickets? If Gabe was smart, he would have only handed over their driver’s licenses. Passports would invite intrusive questions.

  “Let me see those.” A second voice broke through.

  “Nah,” the first man said. “They’re fine. Nothing to see here. You all seen anything unusual going on while you’ve been on the train?”

  “Like what?” Gabe asked.

  “You know,” the second man said. “Suspicious activity, questionable travelers, that sort of thing.”

  Gabe laughed again. “I’ve been stuck in this cabin with pukey pants over there. I haven’t seen anything.”

  “Well,” the first man said. “Everything appears to be in order. Enjoy your trip to Chicago.”

  Caroline could hear Gabe walking with them back toward the door.

  “Sure,” he said. “Thanks.”

  Gabe locked the door again and came back over to the bed, putting his hand on her shoulder. Caroline opened her eyes.

  “Shit,” he said. “That was close. I think the only reason they didn’t talk to you was the puke comment. They both took a step back when I said that.”

  “Do you think they suspected anything?”

  “They looked at our IDs really hard. I mean really hard. That first guy even scanned them with something. I think they pass the smell test.”

  Caroline decided to take that as a sign that everything was going to be all right. That the agents had been fooled and wouldn’t return. They had a few hours before they got to Chicago. “Good.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chicago

  The train rolled into Union Station a few minutes ahead of schedule. Somewhat of a surprise. Caroline had always supported subsidized rail routes but had never once known the trains to run on time. Strange since so much of their funding had been cut. She wasn’t going to complain. After the scare in their compartment she’d stayed buried under the covers until she got up to see the Indiana countryside as the train rounded past South Bend. She couldn’t contain herself. She knew they’d be there soon. Shooting past Gary, crossing the state line. No matter where she laid her head, no matter what she’d been through, Illinois was her home. And Chicago had her heart. Even if she was outed and even if their plan failed, she got to suck in the smells of her hometown one final time.

  She found herself grinning as they shuffled off the train and headed toward the food court. The four of them were starving and Caroline promised she’d find a place that served some decent if mildly touristy fare. They ended up scarfing down some Chicago style hot dogs that weren’t totally authentic but were as close as they were going to get. Caroline teased Jones relentlessly when he slathered his in ketchup. Gabe and Crunch put mustard on theirs, which wasn’t much better but wasn’t worthy of nearly as much hassling. She’d stopped worrying about being spotted. This was her turf. She knew this town well. And she knew Union Station like the back of her hand.

  When they walked into the Great Hall after lunch she was tripped up by t
he stupidest, most random memory – of the time she and a group of friends had to run to the tracks because they’d gotten caught up in Christmas shopping and were about to miss the last Metra train of the night. That was the only night she hadn’t been able to stop and take in the view. This time she intended to enjoy every minute. Since Gig was late Caroline was able to stretch out on one of the wooden benches and memorize every window.

  Gig showed up twenty minutes after he was scheduled to arrive and didn’t look too thrilled to see them. An older man compared to Caroline’s fellow travelers. Maybe late thirties or early forties. Wearing a Henley with the sleeves pulled up despite the cold, he was stocky with big forearms that were covered in tattoos. He let his eyes drift over them one by one, assessing them based on looks alone. When he got to Caroline his gaze paused at the bridge of her nose and it took all her effort not to blush. She didn’t need a fucking reminder every time someone looked at her. Fuck that. She didn’t like this guy. The expression on his face was as sour as hers, so he likely felt the same way.

  “Steven Gigowski,” he said to them, not offering a hand. “Call me Gig. Let’s go.”

  “Seems nice,” Crunch muttered.

  “Gonna be fucking awesome,” Jones whispered back. “Gabe here’s got some real nice friends.”

  The guys were kind enough to let Caroline sit in the front. Gig drove a small SUV. She wondered if that would be what they’d take to Oklahoma. It was a little tight but they could make it work. If the mood wasn’t so ice cold.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, fastening her seat belt.

  Gig pulled out into traffic. “Wrigleyville.”

  Huh. That wasn’t too far. “Can we take Lake Shore Drive?”

  “That’s kind of out of the way,” he said. “And we don’t need to be wasting time.”

  He’d said a compound sentence. Yay for him. Lack of sleep coupled with a bit of hometown arrogance brought out Caroline’s snippy side. “No, it’s not. What kind of crack are you on?”

  Gabe patted the back of Gig’s headrest. “Take Lake Shore Drive, buddy.”

  Gig shot his friend an angry look in the rearview mirror. “Why the hell should I listen to her?”

  “Just do it,” Gabe said.

  Gig muttered an obscenity under his breath. “Driving down Wacker is going to suck.”

  “Give me a break,” Caroline said. “It’s the middle of the week. Not even rush hour. There’s hardly any traffic. Once you get by the lake you’ll be fine.”

  “My route would be easier.”

  Jones started laughing. “Man, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen to the lady. Once she digs her heels in, she ain’t giving up. You should have heard her freaking out when I put ketchup on my hot dog.”

  Gig turned to him as they pulled up to a stoplight. “You put fucking ketchup on your fucking hot dog?”

  Jones grinned. “Damn right. We ain’t all weird like you Chicago people. Some of us enjoy our food normally.”

  Gig spun back around as the light turned green. “Maybe you’re all right,” he said to Caroline. “As opposed to the communist in the back seat.”

  She made eye contact with him briefly before looking back out the window. Had she scored points with him already? “Thank you for driving by the lake.”

  It all seemed so familiar. Like she’d been there the day before. The light posts, the views of the Loop, the random people walking along even in the dead of winter. Hardly any traffic at all, just like she’d said. She wondered if Gig had noticed.

  “Can we stop at Montrose Beach?” she asked.

  Gig sighed. “Now that’s completely out of the way. Too far north.”

  Funny how the other men didn’t say a word. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought she and Gig were in the car alone. She turned to look him in the eye. “Please.”

  Maybe it was the expression on her face. Maybe it was something else. But he switched lanes and continued driving past the final northern boundary of Wrigleyville. Gig pulled into the almost deserted parking lot by the beach and didn’t say anything.

  Caroline unfastened her seat belt, turning to her friends. “I just – I’d like to spend a couple of minutes here, if that’s okay.”

  “Fine with me,” Crunch said.

  “No issues,” said Jones.

  Gabe shrugged. “Don’t stay out there too long. It’s cold.”

  “I won’t,” she said, and went trudging into the snowy sand.

  * * * * *

  Gig glared at Gabe after she’d left. “What the fuck was that?”

  Gabe leaned toward the center console. “Beats me. You’re the one who listened to her.”

  “That’s because you were kicking the hell out of the back of my seat. What the fuck is this dog and pony show you’re running? Is this how it’s going to be the entire trip to California? Whatever she wants, she gets, no questions asked?”

  “Calm down,” Gabe said. “She grew up here.”

  “Oh,” Gig said. “I didn’t know that. I feel like I should have.”

  “Haven’t told you much. That’s my fault.”

  “Who is she?”

  Gabe shook his head back and forth. He’d purposely kept Caroline’s identity a secret from Gig. Didn’t want to take any chances until they were in the same room. “That’s for her to tell, if she wants.”

  Gig scowled. “Talking to you is like pulling fucking teeth.”

  “She’s working through some shit,” Gabe said. “She wouldn’t have asked to stop if it wasn’t important. Not when she knows how much is at stake.”

  Jones laughed. “‘Working through some shit.’ That’s an understatement. Girl has some demons, you hear?”

  Gig frowned. “How bad was it?”

  Gabe shuddered. “You don’t want to know. She’s real lucky to be alive.”

  “Has she talked about it?”

  Crunch rubbed his eyes. “Not much. She won’t tell us anything.”

  “Maybe that’s for the best,” Gig said.

  “What do you mean?” Gabe asked.

  “Maybe you don’t want to know.”

  Gabe frowned. “That makes no sense. How can you help people if you don’t know what they need?”

  “We’ve all heard the rumors. If she was in some government facility, she’s probably seen all sorts of stuff that no civilized person should ever know exists. Maybe she’s not ready to talk about it yet. She may never be.”

  “That doesn’t seem particularly healthy,” Gabe said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Gig said. “I don’t know her but she’ll talk when she wants to talk. Don’t push it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Jones told Gig. “She hasn’t gone off on you yet.”

  “Huh?”

  Gabe had told Gig about her known triggers so he’d know how to tailor his behavior. But he didn’t want to go into detail about anything else. “She’s had some issues with her temper. Like, not normal stuff.”

  Gig grinned. “Maybe that’s because all of you are assholes.”

  Crunch laughed. “Like must cater to like, then.”

  Gig turned around and glared at him, then broke into a smile. “Tricked your asses into thinking I was a jagoff, didn’t I?”

  Gabe clapped his back. He’d been worried for a minute. “Knew you were faking.”

  “The fuck you did.”

  Gabe looked out the fogged up window. “I hope she’s okay out there.”

  Gig pulled his sleeves down, turning up the heat. “Go check on her, then.”

  “No,” Gabe said. “Let’s catch up some more. Give Jonesie and Crunch good reasons to know your brushoff was an act. I’ll get her in a few minutes.”

  * * * * *

  Caroline sat down on the sand. It was cold. There wasn’t much snow on the ground but it was freezing. She knew the snow would melt and wreck her jeans, but she didn’t care. She’d picked a spot close to where the sand met the oddly beautiful frozen bi
ts of the lake. There were chunks of broken ice as far as the eye could see. It had been a cold winter. Colder than the previous one. It wasn’t quite February but it felt like it.

  She looked toward the lake. There was a lighthouse just beyond the horizon, almost too small to be seen. She felt the tears start to fall and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to do this now. But she’d asked them to stop. There was a very good chance she’d never be able to come back here ever again. She had to take advantage of the few openings that presented themselves.

  Caroline closed her eyes and remembered.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Past

  It was a bright, sunny day in late August. Caroline and her daughters had just finished museum hopping and were about to head over to Lou Malnati’s for some pizza. She insisted they stop at the beach along Lake Shore Drive first.

  They’d gotten to the city ahead of time. The Democratic National Convention was set to start in a few days but she wanted to show her daughters all the things she loved growing up. At times she regretted not taking them to Chicago more often but their lives had gotten complicated and her parents had been more than happy to visit them in Maryland. Caroline hadn’t wanted to admit how much she ached for home. The extra time in the city made her significantly less apprehensive about giving her keynote address to a national audience in a few days.

  “I’m glad we came here early,” Marguerite said, kicking her way down the sand.

  “Yeah,” Sophie exclaimed. “This is really cool.”

  “I’m glad too,” Caroline said. “Do you like having your own room at The Drake?”

  “I have to share with Mo,” she grumbled.

  “That’s still pretty cool, right? It’s almost like you’re totally unsupervised.”

  “You’re next door to us, mom,” Marguerite pointed out.

  Sophie giggled. “The TV is huge. Did you know there’s free soda in the fridge?”

  “Don’t drink it,” Caroline said quickly. “It costs like twenty dollars a bottle.”

 

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