by R. R. Banks
“I thought you were supposed to be sleeping.” I say as I crush out my cigarette.
“Can't really sleep,” she replies with a shrug. “Too much going on.”
I nod. “Yeah, it's understandable.”
We sit in a companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the cars on the freeway go zipping by. Dawn is beginning to break and the sky overhead is starting to lighten.
“What are we going to do?” she asks.
“Well, before we do anything, I need to wrap up my business here.”
She looks over at me. “You have business here?”
“You didn't think I came to Fort Collins because it's a booming tourist mecca, did you?”
“No, I suppose not.”
She laughs and it's a high-pitched, sweet sound. Her smile really transforms her face. Makes it even more beautiful than it already is. Her long dark hair frames a smooth face so fair, it looks like it was created out of alabaster. Her eyes are darker than midnight and she has plump, full lips. She's got an incredible hourglass figure and round, full breasts. She's not the usual sort of woman I find myself attracted to, but she's gorgeous all the same.
Of course, that's not really why I'm attracted to her. To be perfectly honest, I don't know why I'm attracted to her. I actually don't even know with any certainty that I'm attracted to her at all. Ever since I first saw her sitting in that diner with that scared, lost look on her face, I felt inexorably drawn to her for reasons I still haven't figured out.
All I know is that I felt compelled to step in and help her. Still feel that way despite the fact that the cowboys are out here hunting us. I can't – and won't – leave her out here on her own. Won't let her suffer at Raymond's hands anymore than she already has.
For reasons, I can't even pretend to understand, I feel protective of Calee. Like she's my responsibility and needs me to look out for her. It's all strange and I don't get any of it. But it's how I feel all the same. And honestly, it makes me feel good.
She makes me feel a lot of things, honestly. And most of those things I don't understand. But until I'm in a spot where I can sit down and analyze it all, I can't be bothered to think about them. I need to compartmentalize. Keep it all locked away.
And maybe – just maybe – once we're out of harm's way and are safe, I can sit down with those feelings for a while and see if I can figure out what they are and what they mean. All I know with any certainty is that Calee makes me feel more alive than I've felt in a long time. As crazy as it sounds, there's an electricity running through my body that I haven't had in forever. Maybe it's just the high of being in danger again, I don't know. But the feeling is there. It's real and I can't deny it. And that's what I'm thankful to her for. She doesn't really know it, but she's given me a purpose again. A mission. And that mission feels like it's brought me back to life.
I think back to the conversation I had with Lara – and her belief that there's a missing piece inside of me. I'm not saying Calee is that missing piece. But she's certainly starting to fill something inside of me. Something I didn't really believe was missing in the first place. Apparently though, I was wrong.
“I'm out here because I came to see an old friend,” I say. “He's dying. Doesn't have much time left.”
Her face falls and she looks absolutely mortified. “Oh, God,” she says, her voice soft. “I'm so sorry, Eric. This is the last thing you needed.”
I shrug and give her a rueful smile. “Hey, you managed to make Fort Collins a little more exciting for me.”
Her dark eyes are wide and I see a blend of sympathy and guilt in them.
“What did I tell you about beating yourself up?”
“But what about your friend?” she asks. “If not for me, you would get to spend –”
“I was planning on leaving today anyway,” I say. “Steve isn't really conscious and coherent that much anymore, so my time with him is limited anyway. I just came to pay my respects and say my goodbyes, really.”
She sighs and looks down at the ground, but she doesn't argue anymore. I can tell that she's still kicking herself though. And I know that no matter what I say, she'll keep doing it – she's got a bad guilt complex.
“Okay,” she finally says. “After that, do you have a plan? Maybe you can loan me enough money to put me on a bus somewhere? And once I'm settled, I can try to pay you back?”
I look at her and roll my eyes dramatically. “No, that's not going to happen.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“What's going to happen is that once I say goodbye to my friend, we're going to pack up and get the hell out of Fort Collins,” I say. “We're going to put Raymond and his goons behind us.”
She cocks her head and looks at me, her face filled with curiosity. “And where are we going?”
“I'm taking you back to California with me,” I say. “I'm taking you home.”
“California?” she asks, her voice soft. “Eric, I can't ask you to take me to your home.”
“You're not asking,” I say. “I'm telling you that this is what's going to happen. At least there, I'll be able to keep you safe.”
She sighs and looks at the ground again. “I honestly don't know if anywhere is safe,” she says. “You've already put yourself in enough danger because of me –”
I hold up my hand to cut her off again. “This isn't a debate,” I say. “You have nowhere to go. I can't leave you here because you're not safe. And I'm not leaving you knowing you're not safe. The only place I can take you where I know you'll be safe is back to San Diego with me.”
Calee eyes glimmer with tears and she gives me a small smile. “Thank you, Eric. For everything.”
I reach out and give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You're welcome.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Calee
I sit on a chair to the side, trying to keep myself as unobtrusive and out of the way as possible. The last thing I want to do is intrude on Eric's time with his friend. I look at the man lying in the bed and feel a pain in my heart. He looks so small. So weak and fragile. I can tell it hurts him to even breathe.
But he's tough. He's strong. And he's doing everything he can to put on a brave face and enjoy his time with Eric.
“Don't you dare tell your wife,” Eric says with a small laugh.
He looks at the door as if to make sure she's not standing there watching before he reaches into the paper bag he brought and pulls out the sandwich he'd picked up. He carefully unwraps it and sets it on the bed next to his friend. Steve's eyes light up and a genuine smile crosses his face.
“You've always been a good man,” he says, his voice low and raspy. “I take back all those white boy jokes I made.”
Eric cocks his head. “You never made any white boy jokes to me.”
Steve shrugs. “Not to your face, no.”
Eric laughs and cuts a small piece of the sandwich before handing it to Steve. The man takes a bite and his eyes roll back into his head and he makes a sound that borders on the obscene as he chews.
“My God, I forgot how good these things are,” Steve says.
I watch as they banter back and forth while Eric feeds his friend. I have to admit that it's an interesting and endearing side to him. Ever since we met, I've really only seen him in commander general mode as he gives the orders and tells me how things are going to be. Not that I blame him. In a situation like this – one I'm poorly equipped to deal with – I'm glad to have somebody with a calm head who knows how to take charge. I'm grateful to him for that.
But seeing him with Steve, seeing this sweet, almost nurturing side to him – it's not something I expected from him.
“Calee?”
I shake my head and pull myself out of my thoughts when I hear Eric calling me. I look at him, confused for a moment and realize I'd missed just about everything they were saying.
“Sorry,” I say. “I was sort of caught up in my head.”
“I can tell,” he replies.
I feel the heat in my cheeks as my face flushes again. “Sorry.”
“I was just telling Steve about how we met and everything that's gone on,” Eric says.
Steve nods. “Sounds like you’ve gone through hell.”
I nod and give him a small smile. “It was – difficult.”
Steve looks at his Eric and nods. “Tough girl.”
“Told you.”
I feel myself blushing harder and I fight to keep the awkward smile off my face.
“Anyway,” Eric says. “I was telling him about them finding us at the hotel and how it doesn't make sense. Are those the clothes you wore out at the compound?”
I look down at what I'm wearing and shake my head. “No, Danny had the jeans and shirt for me,” I say. “The jacket was his too.”
“How about them boots?” Steve asks, pointing with a long, skeletal finger at my feet.
“Yeah, these are my boots from the compound,” I say. “Why?”
They exchange a look and something passes between them that I don't understand. Eric turns back to me, a grim expression on his face.
“Give me your boots,” he says.
“My boots?”
He nods. “Yeah. I need to check them.”
“Okay,” I say slowly.
I do as I'm told though and take my boots off, handing them over to Eric. I feel a little strange standing there in just my socks. I watch Eric handling my boots, inspecting every inch of them. There doesn't seem to be anything remarkable about them to me. They're plain, black work boots. Functional rather than fashionable. Standard issue out on the Ark.
Eric slides his hand inside the first one and frowns. I see him feeling something down inside of it and his frown deepens.
“What is it?” Steve asks, his voice starting to fade.
“I think there's something in here,” he says. “I can feel it – barely. But it feels like there's something underneath the inside lining.
I watch as Eric starts tugging at the inside of the boot. I hear the sound of fabric ripping and he pulls the whole lining out. And when he looks inside, I see alarm spread across his face. He reaches in and pulls something out that's round and metallic and has a couple of wires protruding from it. Eric looks from it to Steve and back again, his face growing even more concerned.
“What is that?” I ask, a sense of foreboding settling down over me.
“It's a tracking chip,” Steve says weakly. “It's how they've been finding you.”
Eric abruptly gets to his feet and tosses my boots back to me. “Put those back on, we need to go.”
The tension in his voice makes me spring into action. I drop back down in the chair and put my boots on as he stands there holding the device he'd pulled out of my boot.
“Brother, I'm so sorry,” Eric says. “I didn't mean to bring any trouble to your door.”
He shrugs. “They ain't at my door yet,” he says. “Besides, what are they gonna do, kill me? I think they're a little late for that.”
Steve laugh turns into a dry, raspy hacking cough. He grabs Eric by the hand and looks at him, his eyes intense.
“You take care of that girl, Captain,” he says and looks at me. “That's your mission, brother. Your only mission.”
Eric looks at me and gives me an enigmatic little smile. “Yes, it is,” he says. “I'm not planning on letting these assholes get their hands on her again.”
“Good man,” Steve says. “Now, go on and get out of here.”
Eric hesitates and I know it's because he realizes it's going to be the last time he sees his friend. He reaches down and takes Steve's hand, holding it tightly.
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Eric says and I see his eyes shimmering with tears. “For everything. You're the best man I've ever known. And I wouldn't be here if not for you.”
Steve looks at him and gives him a nod, his eyes shining with tears also, but too proud to let them fall. The two men stand like that, hands and eyes locked together, for a long moment. Steve finally pats Eric on the arm and gives him a nod.
“Top drawer of my nightstand,” Steve says. “Take it.”
A curious expression on his face, Eric opens the drawer and takes out a small cloth bundle. He seems to know what's in it and he simply nods.
“You sure?”
Steve grins. “Gonna do you a lot better than it's gonna do me.”
“Thank you.”
“Go on,” he says. “I'm tired. Need some sleep.”
“I'll see you on the other side, man,” Eric says.
“You bet your ass you will.”
With one last look at his friend, Eric turns and gives me a nod and I follow him out the door. He's still carrying the metal disc he pulled out of my boot and after we say our goodbyes to Steve's wife, we walk back out to the car.
As I get in, I don't know what to say. About anything. So much had happened in such a short period of time that I'm having trouble even processing it all. Eric looks up and down the residential street, eyeing every car parked on the side of the road. He slips behind the wheel and starts the engine, his face tight.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Two men in a car parked a few houses down,” he says. “Might be friends of yours.”
I turn and look but can't see anything. Sitting back in my seat, I feel my pulse quickening.
“What are we going to do?” I ask.
“Get them away from Steve's house for one,” he says. “After that, we'll have to play it by ear.”
I nod. “What was in that cloth he gave you?”
He sets it down in my lap as he puts the car in gear and pulls away from the curb. I unfold the cloth and stare down at a gun. My hand is trembling as I touch it, surprised at how cool the metal is. It's solid black except for the green four-leaf clover engraved into the handle of the gun.
“He always had it with him back in the Shit. Never went anywhere without it. Not even the latrine,” he says and chuckles. “Said it was his good luck charm. Kept him safe, so who am I to argue?”
I see him checking the rear-view mirror constantly as we drive down the street. He nods to himself as he speeds up a little.
“They're following us,” he says. “I don't know if they know I spotted them or not, so play it cool.”
I resist the urge to turn around and look for myself. In that moment, the most important thing is to get them away from Steve and his wife. They don't need to be caught up in this mess too.
“The good news for us is that these clowns aren't going to want to draw attention to themselves. They won't want to take the risk,” Eric says. “Which means that as long as we stick to populated areas, we'll be okay for a little while.”
“Do you think you're going to need this?” I ask, motioning to the gun in my lap.
“I sure hope not,” I say. “I've never been that great with them.”
I wrap the gun back up and slip it under the seat. My head is spinning with a thousand different thoughts and emotions. But at the moment, the overriding emotion is fear.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eric
Driving around all day isn't much of a plan. But at least, I got them away from Steve's house. The man has been through enough. But I know I need to come up with something. I see the fear on Calee's face as plain as day and I want to do something to erase that. I don't ever want her to have to feel fear like this again. Like Steve, she's been through enough.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods. “I'm fine. You?”
“I'm good.”
There's a tension in the car and the unmistakable stink of fear and uncertainty. There's a big part of me that wants to stop the car and shoot it out with them right here and now. But I know that will do way more harm than good. The cops tend to frown upon shootouts in residential neighborhoods.
My first thought is to get us to the airport and book us on the first flight out. My return ticket is open-ended, so I can go anytime I want. But then I remember that
Calee doesn't have an ID and won't be able to get on the plane.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“What is it?”
“We're going to have to drive all the way back to California.”
She looks at me, confused. “Why?”
“You need an ID to fly,” I say. “And there's no getting around it.”
“I'm sorry,” she says meekly.
“Calee, it's not your fault,” I say gently. “Stop saying you're sorry about everything. Please?”
“I'm sor –”
I cut her off with a look and an arched eyebrow. She looks back at me for a long moment and then we start to laugh. It's a long, loud laugh – and definitely out of proportion with the reason we're laughing. But it feels good to actually laugh. It breaks the tension in the car – which is very welcome.
Slowly, our laughter fades away and silence descends between us once more. At least the tension in the car is gone though.
“Okay, so we drive,” I say. “Not a big deal. But I think we need to lose our escort before we hit the open road.”
She looks at me and smiles. “I think it would be a good idea.”
“Which brings me to my next question,” I say. “And that is, how are we going to accomplish that?”
Calee looks at me and gives me a small shrug of her shoulders. I didn't expect her to have the answer. Not really. Sometimes though, it helps me come up with an idea when I just talk things out. As we drive by an outdoor mall, an idea starts to form in my head. As I look at the crowd of people milling about, the idea starts to solidify. But, it's an idea that isn't without risk and one that will put Calee in a little bit of danger.
“I think I've got it,” I say.
Calee looks at me. “Got a plan?”
“I think so,” I say. “But you might not like it.”
There's a momentary flash of fear in her eyes but she stuffs it back down almost immediately. Locking eyes with me, she nods.
“Let's hear it,” she says.
I check the mirror again and see the same car back there – with one car kept between us as a buffer so they don't look so obvious. I lay out my plan to Calee and highlight the risk she'll be taking if she agrees to it.
