Chapter Nineteen
London
By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, Kevin was convinced that Len was the most talkative person he’d ever met. He now had working knowledge of how to raise a raven from an egg, how to mix a really “sound” alcoholic drink and how to pick the right dog in a greyhound race.
What he didn’t know was what they were supposed to do once they got to London.
“Where exactly are we going?” he asked.
“London,” Len said, like he was talking to a half-wit.
“Right, but to a hotel, or where?”
Len straightened his shoulders, and Kevin got another glimpse of the tattoo on the back of his neck. The stylistic curlicues coming out from under Len’s ponytail looked a bit like wings.
“Fact is,” Len said, “I don’t want to know where you end up. It’s best if I can’t answer, were the police to ask.”
“Where’s the jail?” Lizbeth asked.
Len produced a raspy laugh. “Don’t go there. Caitlin won’t be detained long, you can be sure of that. Find yourselves a safe hideaway and wait for her. She’ll find you.”
Ten minutes later, he dropped them off on the corner of a busy street.
“Stay off the radar,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”
“Thank you,” Lizbeth said. They waved as he drove off.
For a moment, they all stood there, looking around at the shops, the people and the noisy vehicles driving by. It was business as usual here, as if the recent disasters both close to home and far away had never happened.
Zach broke the silence. “Who’s got money? We need to eat and find a place to sleep.”
Kevin pulled the change from his pocket. “I’ve got about three American dollars in coins.”
Lizbeth shook her head. “I’m broke. Granma told me I wouldn’t need any money.”
Zach displayed a debit card. “My mom said she was transferring some to my account, but Simon told us not to use it.”
“I’m not sleeping on the street,” Lizbeth said with a little wobble in her voice. “My mom and I spent weeks in a shelter after Katrina, and I’d rather sleep with the skunks at the zoo.”
“If I don’t get a shower soon, you’ll get your wish,” Zach said, with a smile. Kevin thought he noticed something unsaid pass between Zach and Lizbeth, and he felt a twinge of what? Jealousy? Sure, Lizbeth was cute, but now wasn’t the time to think about romance. He tried to shake the feeling off.
“Alright, people,” he said. “Ideas?”
Zach’s face was blank, but Lizbeth’s went through a quick gamut of emotions; first worry, then upset, then determination.
“I’ll take care of it,” she said. A moment later, she slipped into the crowd.
“Um…is she coming back or are we supposed to follow her?” Zach asked.
Kevin watched Lizbeth’s slim form weave through and around people. Normally graceful, she seemed to bump into just about every other person she passed, flashing her bright smile in apology.
“Hang on. Remember on the plane she said she could do stuff? I think she’s doing it right now.”
Zach frowned. “You think she’s robbing people?”
A woman pushing a baby carriage looked up. Kevin elbowed Zach in the ribs and hissed, “Shut up. You want the world to know?”
Zach lowered his voice. “Is that what she’s doing? Because getting arrested isn’t a very good way to lie low.”
Kevin spotted Lizbeth on her way back up the street. She looked calm and unconcerned, and didn’t bump a soul. “I don’t think she’s going to get caught.”
When she joined them, her first words were, “Get moving.” Kevin and Zach turned and walked alongside her. After three blocks, she led them to a small park in between two skyscrapers and they sat on a bench. She pulled three men’s wallets from her pocket and quickly removed the bills.
“Anyone know how much this is?”
Kevin took the cash and counted it. “It’s enough to feed us and get a room, assuming we can find a decent one that won’t ask for a credit card.”
Zach stood, shoved his hands in his pockets and faced Lizbeth. “You do this all the time? Are you some kind of professional pick-pocket?”
She surprised Kevin with the ferocity of her response, leaping up with a pugnacious look and pushing at Zach, who didn’t move. “No, I don’t do this all the time! I never do it. It’s wrong and I know it, and I feel like crap about it, but what else was I supposed to do? We’re supposed to save the friggin’ world, remember? A little hard to do without Caitlin.”
Kevin heard the break in her voice when she said Caitlin’s name. She turned away and her shoulders slumped. He started to get up, but Zach waved him off and tentatively put his arm around her shoulders. Kevin heard him murmur something, but he couldn’t make it out and didn’t want to. The whole scene seemed too intimate suddenly and he shifted uncomfortably on the bench. He was so discomfited, in fact, that it almost felt like that old “something’s wrong” sensation.
He looked around. A group of teens sat on a grassy landscaped hill. A man walked by with five well-mannered dogs on leashes, each a different breed. On the main sidewalk, the woman who’d been pushing her baby stood talking to a uniformed police officer. She pointed at Lizbeth and the officer turned.
“Um, guys,” Kevin said. “Heads up. We’re in trouble.”
Chapter Twenty
London
At Kevin’s warning, Lizbeth took a seemingly casual step back from Zach. The residual scent of his deodorant had been vastly overpowered by the pungency of his body odor. She’d gamely ignored it while he offered her comfort, mostly because of the unexpected feelings she experienced in his loose embrace. Now was not the time to examine those feelings, however.
She raised an arm and casually flipped her hair, surreptitiously taking in the police officer and the woman, who were both looking their way. The three stolen wallets were quickly tucked away in the satchel she used as a purse. She swung it to the ground next to the jumble of their luggage.
“It’s nothing to worry about. She wasn’t one of my marks.”
“Yes, but she heard Big Mouth here,” Kevin tilted his head towards Zach, “say that you were off robbing people.”
Lizbeth tossed Zach an irritated look, but then produced a careless, tinkling laugh. She stepped in front of Kevin and with her arms behind her back, waved at him to hide the money, which he still held in a limp grasp on his lap.
“You guys are so funny,” she said loud enough for the approaching police officer to hear. “Let’s find our hotel so we have time to see the Changing of the Guard.”
“I’m afraid you’ve missed it, Miss,” the police officer said by way of greeting.
Lizbeth gave the young officer her most disarming smile. “Have we? What time does it usually occur?”
“It’s best to get there by eleven in the morning if you want a good spot. You’re American. Is that what you lot are doing – sightseeing?”
“Mm-hm.” Trying to react as normally as possible, she allowed her enthusiastic façade to fade as the officer dropped his eyes and examined their luggage. Kevin and Zach didn’t seem eager to contribute, and Lizbeth had no idea what to say if the officer probed any deeper.
Her brows lifted in quizzical innocence. “Is something wrong?”
“May I see your identification?” the officer asked.
Lizbeth blanched, but tried to cover it with a cough. She lifted her satchel and rummaged inside, keeping the opening away from the officer’s prying eyes. There were now four wallets inside the cluttered denim bag, and she squelched a burst of panic as her hand encountered one after the other before finally settling on her own, larger wallet. She produced it with a flourish and murmured something inane about Mary Poppins’ bottomless bag. Thankfully, the officer laughed.
She handed him her driver’s license, confidence returning. This was a routine exchange. That woman may have overheard Zach say som
ething gallingly stupid, but Lizbeth doubted the officer had cause to search them further. Assuming things worked here abroad as they worked on American television, that is.
The officer looked at the license. Something about the way his face froze and his eyes flicked up to her face made her unease rush back.
“Excuse me,” the officer said. His steps were crisply militaristic, all business, and they took him far enough away that she didn’t hear what he said into his radio.
Lizbeth wished she had Caitlin’s knack of seemingly reading minds, because it sure would come in handy right now. Why had her license caused the officer to call in? Not the license, she thought in sudden comprehension. My name. If Caitlin was under arrest for terrorism, the authorities surely knew who she’d traveled with.
“This is not good,” Kevin said quietly.
Zach replied without moving his mouth. “If he asks for our I.D.’s, too, I want you both to run. I’ll take care of him.”
“What?” Lizbeth whispered frantically. “You can’t assault a cop! And where are we supposed to run to? What about our luggage?”
Zach’s face was expressionless. “Just do it.”
She knew he was right. Len had assured them that Caitlin wouldn’t be in jail for long. Lizbeth had gotten the distinct impression that her freedom would not be facilitated by a lawyer. She doubted Caitlin would be in a position to help if the three of them got arrested, too. With shaking hands, she lifted the strap of her satchel over her head, pulled it across her chest and adjusted the bag in the small of her back. Luckily, she had her runners on. She bounced unconsciously on the balls of her feet.
The officer fastened his radio back on his belt. Before he got within earshot, Kevin said, “Back the way we came, behind the movie theater.” Zach nodded.
“Here you are, Miss,” the officer said. He held out her license. She tucked it into the pocket of her jeans.
“Alright then. Go about your business.” The officer nodded and walked away. Lizbeth let her breath out in a rush of air. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding it.
“Does anyone else sense there’s more to it than that?” Kevin asked.
Lizbeth grasped the handle of her rolling suitcase and tilted it for an easy getaway. “Let’s make ourselves scarce.”
Zach put his arms through the straps of his backpack and picked up one of her bags. She noticed a wry twist of his lips and suspected he was disappointed that there hadn’t been a fight.
“Where to?” she asked, looking down the sidewalk. People were slightly thinner on the ground now and she figured the lunch crowd was making its way back to work. Two men in uniform just rounding the corner caught her eye. They were walking and talking casually, but she said, “Guys?”
“I see them,” Zach said.
Kevin relaxed his grip on the suitcase he’d been about to pick up. “Two more coming from the opposite way.”
Lizbeth swung around and met the eyes of the officer who’d stopped them. He stood maybe twenty yards away with his hand on his belt.
“The little weasel was calling reinforcements,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-one
London
Zach set Lizbeth’s bag down and unzipped it. He selected the first item of clothing that came to hand, a white cotton button-down shirt.
“What are you doing?” Lizbeth snapped.
“When I say ‘now,’ run into that building,” he replied, nodding to the closer of the two high rises. “Do not stop running. They won’t shoot with all these people around, even if they say they’re going to. Head for the back entrance. I’ll be right behind you.”
Lizbeth had been right to remind him what a bad idea it would be to assault a police officer. They were in trouble, but as long as Zach did nothing to compound it, the authorities would have to let them go once they realized they weren’t terrorists. Assuming they got caught. The furthest officers could potentially be avoided, but the one who’d radioed in was too close. Zach needed to slow him down – nonviolently.
He held the shirt against his chest and quickly folded it in a specific sequence until he held a tight wad of material in his right hand. The other officers were closing in, and the first one, thank goodness he was young and clearly inexperienced, seemed to gain confidence from their proximity. Zach watched him straighten his shoulders and start towards them.
“Now!”
Lizbeth immediately outpaced Kevin as they sprinted for the high rise. Two strides into his own flight, Zach took aim and hurled his missile, the folded shirt, at the first officer. The shirt flew straight into the officer’s face and when it hit, it burst open and covered his head and shoulders. Zach raced past. Behind them, the officers shouted “Stop!” Ahead, Lizbeth opened the mirrored glass door and held it for Kevin. Just before Zach reached her, she ducked in. Zach bolted through the narrow opening before the door closed.
Inside, the high-ceilinged lobby had a great, curved information desk with a lone occupant standing open-mouthed behind it. There were only two choices, right or left, and Kevin had gone right. As soon as Zach rounded the corner, sneakers squeaking on the marble floors, he realized it was the wrong choice. Ahead of them was a bank of elevators on one side and a door with the universal symbols for a unisex bathroom on the other, but nothing else. No back door.
Several people waiting for the elevator swiveled their heads as the three of them charged up and were stopped cold. Zach heard the officers shouting again, presumably asking the information desk clerk which way they’d gone. The elevator dinged and Lizbeth looked like she was going to shove her way onto it, but Zach herded them into the bathroom instead. Luckily, the open room, with its one handicapped-friendly toilet, was unoccupied, and it had a lock.
“Oh, great!” Lizbeth burst out. “This is your big plan? To lock ourselves into the bathroom until they find the key and capture us?”
Zach inspected the room. There were two white plastic grates in the ceiling, both too small for a human body. The floor was covered with black and white tiles slanting slightly to a drain in the middle. The walls were painted glossy white. He tapped the back wall and smiled grimly. Wallboard.
The door handle rattled as someone from the outside attempted to open it. A moment later, a man’s voice shouted, “Come out with your hands in the air!”
“That’s not going to happen,” Zach muttered as he eyed the back wall. Extending his arms, he relaxed his body and mind into a calm state as he focused his concentration on the target. His arms crossed briefly before coming in as fists and he stepped forward onto his left leg. Swift and sure, he performed a basic side-kick, feeling his internal power flow freely through his leg and out his right foot as it connected with the wall. Six kicks produced a good-sized hole in the first layer of wallboard between two studs. Six more kicks opened the far side.
Light from the room next to them shone through a cloud of white dust. Lizbeth didn’t wait for an invitation. She ducked through the hole. Zach gestured that Kevin go next and then he followed suit.
The room was large, with a long conference table occupied by about twenty business people with surprised faces.
“I say…” began a white-haired man standing authoritatively at the foot of the table. He waved the pointer he held in a vague circle.
“Pardon us,” Lizbeth said, scooting past the nearest chairs and heading for the wall of windows. The door onto a terraced patio opened easily and they exited. There were no police in sight, but they ran down a set of concrete stairs and kept going, through alleys and around buildings until Zach deemed it safe enough to slow down. He knew that three people running hell-bent through London would attract more attention than three people walking as if they had a destination and a deadline.
“Where to now?” he asked, brushing at a coating of wallboard dust on his shirt.
The street they were on now was no less busy with people and traffic than the ones before. Lizbeth stepped into the street, raised her hand and pierced the background no
ise with a long, sharp whistle. A black taxi responded by changing lanes and stopping abruptly before them.
They piled into the back seat and the cabbie turned with a smile and asked, “’Ave you got an address for me?”
Zach’s mind was blank. He turned to Lizbeth, whose face had the beginnings of a panicked look on it.
Then Kevin spoke up, in a perfect imitation of an English accent, “That’s a bit tricky. We’ve been separated from our party. Supposed to have met up at the cruise terminal.”
“Oh, Tilbury, is it?” the cabbie asked.
“Yes,” Kevin said.
Zach took his backpack off and sat back against the seat as the taxi merged into traffic. He had no idea where they were going, but it seemed Kevin did. They couldn’t very well discuss it in front of the cabbie, so he closed his eyes and hoped Kevin’s plan was a good one.
Chapter Twenty-two
London
Kevin hadn’t had time to play tourist the last time he’d been here, but he knew about the international cruise port, and when the cabbie had asked where they were going, it was the only destination that popped into his head. After sitting next to the malodorous Zach for the last twenty minutes, however, he changed his mind.
“Sir?” he asked in his borrowed accent. “Isn’t there a shopping center near the cruise terminal?”
“There is.”
“Would you drop us there instead?”
“Anything you say, mate. Mind if I turn on the radio? Last I heard, the Chunnel’s been closed. Leaks, you know, from all these blasted little earthquakes popping up in strange places, now that the whole world’s gone anti-clockwise.”
“Sure,” Kevin said, wondering what a ‘chunnel’ was.
The cabbie turned on his radio and tuned it to a news station. Len had mentioned something about volcanoes, and now Kevin and the others were treated to a sobering account of just how bad it really was.
The Gossamer Crown: Book One of The Gossamer Sphere Page 8
