Shattered Highways

by Tara N Hathcock

  “Bad things happen. And are going to keep happening. You can let them change you into something better or something worse. I chose better. It’s not a big deal.”

  But it was. And it did explain why he felt so strongly about helping her and all of these other people out there that he didn’t know. He knew what tragedy looked like. He had been rescued from his by the kindness of a high school football coach and his wife. Logan was the kind of man who could hardly do different.

  Logan must have taken her silence for exhaustion because he tugged a blanket off the back of the chair her feet were propped up on and leaned over to tuck it around her legs.

  “We still have a couple of hours before the train pulls into the next depot. Why don’t you see if you can get some more sleep. I wouldn’t mind some myself.”

  She looked around the compartment skeptically. Where exactly did he think he was going to find that kind of space?

  He shrugged off the look she gave him with, “I’ve slept in worse places than this floor. I’ll be fine.”

  “Scoot?” she offered painfully, not quite sure how she would accomplish it but willing to try. He just shook his head.

  “No need. I really am fine down here.” He tucked a pillow under his head and spread his coat over his chest. “Wake me up if you need anything.”

  He closed his eyes and dropped off to sleep almost immediately. She realized he had probably been awake the whole time she was out, keeping watch. After the fight with the Colonel, he had to be exhausted and sore. She had noticed he seemed stiff and his shoulder looked to be hurting him some. The floor certainly wasn’t going to help matters. But he did seem comfy enough. She felt the tug of sleep against her own eyes and knew enough not to fight it, letting them close and wondering what came next.

  Chapter 70

  Logan

  The train whistle blew, waking Logan up from a deeper sleep than he’d had in awhile, despite being on the floor. He reached for his phone out of habit, checking the time and making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Huh. He must have been more tired than he thought if he’d slept a full six hours. He dropped his phone onto his chest and ran both hands over his face, trying to wake up. Despite the deep sleep, he was going to feel it when he got up - the sad reality of a 35-year old man sleeping on the floor after a brutal fight, no matter what he’d said to Quincy.

  Speaking of, he glanced over at her, glad to see she was still asleep. He winced at the bruising and the burns, obvious signs of his failure to keep her safe. They had to hurt more than she was letting on; she could barely move after all, but she hadn’t complained. And despite the pain, she looked like she was sleeping pretty well herself. Once she recovered from being almost strangled to death, he knew she’d probably never sleep so soundly again. She was still propped up against the pillows where he’d left her but she had wadded the blanket up and was holding it tight against her chest like a pillow with her left arm, her right tucked up under her cheek. If he could ignore the angry red welts wrapping around her neck, he’d say she almost looked serene.

  Logan closed his eyes, replaying that moment when he’d seen what was happening but had been too far away to prevent it. It was terrifying, how close he’d come to losing her. He had realized long ago that Quincy was more than just a mission to him, so it came as no surprise. He just hadn’t realize how very much he cared. She’d worked her way in deep and now she was stuck with him. He hoped she would take him up on his offer to stay with him and Dr. Garrison. Dave had a pretty sweet set-up on the outskirts of Boulder right now. He had partnered with a medical school inside the city proper and ran a clinic that serviced the homeless and underserved populations in the greater metropolitan area. The clinic was staffed by medical and nursing school students and included full imaging suites. A general practice was a huge waste of Dr. Garrison’s knowledge and expertise but if Dave thought it beneath him, he never showed it. He had thrown himself into the clinic with such enthusiasm, even Logan wouldn’t have known it was only a fraction of his work if he didn’t have the inside track.

  The clinic was an excellent cover for the medical equipment and research facilities Dave needed in order to continue researching and finding patients with RNB. There was a fully finished basement underneath the clinic, which they used as both base of operations and home. Dave’s office doubled as a bedroom and they’d put up a couple of dividers to form a makeshift living/kitchenette area and a place where Logan had thrown a mattress and a tv. It had been easy enough to build false walls around the inside of the clinic rooms that had openings to the basement so they could come and go without being seen by the staff. The setup was perfect for their needs and one of the reasons Logan had tried to keep Dave from coming to meet them at their next stop. They needed to keep the clinic location off the company’s radar. And they needed to keep Dave’s location off the radar as well. Logan frowned, uncomfortable with the thought that Dave was a high-priority target too. The company wanted the patients he had identified so it would make sense that they wanted him too. He was the leading, well, only, expert on RNB and the company would want him to continue his research so that they could...what had Quincy said? Weaponize it. That wasn’t something either of them were going to allow in their lifetimes so their base of operations was sacred. Quincy wasn’t the only one who needed a safe place. Every victim they managed to find could be treated at the clinic. Dave had been slowly stocking up on the different testing and treatment equipment he thought they would need and, combined with the fully-stocked clinic above them, they were well on their way. Now that they had Quincy and she was maybe on board, he felt confident this might actually work.

  Logan exhaled loudly, trying to work up the nerve to roll over and heave his sore body off the floor. He really needed to call Dave and tell him about the Colonel. With their bloodhound gone, there was really no reason he couldn’t meet the train at one of their stops. The poor man. Logan rarely let him out of the clinic. Out of sight and all that. But he never complained. They had developed a strong friendship over the last four years and Dave trusted Logan as much as Logan trusted him. With the Colonel out of the way, it was probably safe for Dave to venture out. Logan knew he was worried about both of them and would only relax once he checked them over himself. It would do him good to get out.

  Except for Brandon. Logan shut his eyes, mentally cursing himself. He had been so relieved to lose the Colonel that he hadn’t even thought about Brandon. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about him. He’d slept for six hours with that guy still on the loose. Surely if he was on the train, he would have made a move by now. Logan tried to relax the muscles in his back that had tensed up at the thought. With his boss dead, maybe he would just disappear. Logan felt a pang at the thought, knowing he had been responsible for the man’s death, but that it couldn’t have been helped. He was a threat to Quincy. Actively in the process of trying to kill her when they fought and he fell. As a soldier, Logan had become accustomed to violence but he had never quite shaken the responsibility he felt when he had to take a life, no matter how justified.

  “You look troubled, Soldier.”

  Logan opened his eyes and found Quincy looking at him from atop her pillow mountain. “Care to share?”

  “You know, you’ve kind of got this gravelly, sultry Greta Garbo thing going on,” he remarked, hiding the relief he felt that she could talk at all.

  She rolled her eyes but wasn’t deterred. “Boys are so weird. So what’s up?”

  He sighed. “Nothing. I hope. I just realized I was so focused on shaking the Colonel that I forgot he had a lap dog.”

  Quincy frowned. “You mean Brandon?”

  Her voice really did sound a little better, even if her neck and eyes looked even angrier than before. And it didn’t seem to hurt her to speak like it did yesterday.

  “I can’t believe I just brushed him off,” he berated himself. “I mean, he was the first to find us, after all. Could be, he found us again but the Colonel decided to take t
he lead and sent him on to the next stop.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” she said after a moment’s pause.

  Logan turned over onto his side facing Quincy and propped his arm up under his head. “What makes you say that?” he asked curiously.

  She shrugged gingerly. “I don’t really remember what happened with the Colonel, but I keep getting flashes. Just bits and pieces, you know? And when you mentioned Brandon, I remembered something the Colonel said. It was kind of in the middle of all this, I think,” she said dryly, motioning towards her neck, “but I’m pretty sure Brandon isn’t around anymore. Like, anywhere.”

  “You mean…?” he slid a finger across his throat.

  “He sleeps with the fishes,” she agreed.

  “We’re joking about murder,” Logan remarked.

  “We are. It’s a healthy and appropriate coping mechanism,” she assured him

  “Sure,” Logan said. “Very healthy. Let’s move on.”

  “So what’s the plan, army man?”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Lauren Bacall. Dynamite.”

  She smiled back. “Without the talent, the money, or the body.” He started to correct her on two of the three but she went on. “Seriously. What are we doing?”

  Logan mentally shifted gears, thinking through what was coming next. “We’ll get off in Green Valley this afternoon. Dave was hoping to be able to pick us up and take us home. I nixed that idea when I was afraid we might still have a tail but I guess with the Colonel and Brandon both gone, there’s no reason why he couldn’t.”

  “Will that put him in danger? I guess the company would be after him too, wouldn’t they?”

  “I don’t know if he’s a primary target but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind having him back. If they’re planning to weaponize RNB, he would be key to making that happen.”

  “Where exactly is home?” Quincy asked.

  “I guess it’s probably safe enough to tell you now. We moved around a lot at first, bouncing between cheap motels and even cheaper office spaces before we settled down around Boulder.”

  “Why Boulder?” she asked curiously.

  “Why not?” Logan answered with a shrug. “It’s a big enough city to get lost in but quiet enough to lay low. The place is perfect. We just lucked into it, really. Dave runs a low-income clinic connected with one of the medical schools in the city so he has access to equipment and supplies and the building has a huge basement underneath where we set up shop.”

  “Your Dr. Garrison is quite the do-gooder, isn’t he?” Quincy remarked offhandedly.

  “Why do you say that?” Logan asked curiously.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Because he runs a low-income medical clinic while on the run from some super secret organization that wants to take his research and do who-knows-what with it, all after giving up a prestigious medical practice, fame, and fortune to diagnose a disease no one else even believes in.” She blew out her breath. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Yeah,” Logan agreed. “When you put it like that, I guess it does seem like a lot.” He finally heaved himself up off the floor, trying to keep the manly groans and creaks inside. “I’m going to go call Dave and maybe rustle up some breakfast. Need anything before I go?”

  “I don’t think so,” Quincy said. “I’m going to see if I can get myself up and take a shower. Maybe once I do, I’ll feel more human.”

  “Want a hand?” he asked.

  “With what? Getting up or taking a shower?” she shot back.

  Logan blushed, mortified, and tried to backpedal but Quincy just smiled. “I think I can do it. Bring back some coffee,” she said, “and hold the breakfast. When I’m done, we’ll hit the food compartment together. We probably need to be seen.”

  Logan saw the wisdom in what she said. “It wouldn’t hurt Albert to see you up and about after yesterday.”

  “Albert?”

  “Our porter. Remember? He saw me carry you back here, I told him you had had a bit too much to drink…”

  He watched her as he talked but she just looked quizzically back at him. “Nothing, huh? I guess you were still pretty out of if when we talked yesterday. Let’s just say it might not be a bad thing to prove you’re up and about.”

  “Okay then,” she said. “Get out so I can get going.”

  He snapped off a quick salute before turning for the door. “Yes ma’am.”

  Chapter 71

  Quincy

  The moment the door snapped shut behind Logan, the smile dropped from Quincy’s face. She had been burning since she woke up, the need to escape practically clawing its way out of her. She tried to distract herself by focusing on Logan, all cramped and out of sorts on the floor, but that only made it worse. Logan already had everything all worked out, tied up in a neat little bow. They were going to skip off this train, hand in hand, and group hug all the way back to Dr. Garrison’s super secret public medical clinic, where they would fight bad guys and be bestest friends forever. But Quincy wasn’t born yesterday. She actually wasn’t sure when she was born, come to think of it, but she did know it wasn’t yesterday. Things were never going to be that easy. Maybe for Logan but not for her.

  Logan was the kind of guy that things just happened for. Whether it was his sunny personality, his optimistic disposition, or the sheer force of his determination, things just seemed to bend to his will. She was a prime example of that. But that wasn’t her way. Things didn’t happen for her. They happened to her. A life-altering head injury, eight missing years after, all the years missing before. Running, hiding, lying...pain, exhaustion, loneliness. No, settling down with a brand new, ready-made family wasn’t going to be simple for her and Logan’s exuberance was a little overwhelming. He was inexhaustible, hammering at her over and over until she finally caved. It’s what had happened when they first met and it was going to keep happening. Because Logan didn’t know how else to be.

  He had said she could go anywhere she wanted, but did he really mean it? She had the feeling he would be devastated if she chose to leave. It wasn’t really about her, she knew that. Logan had lost someone very close to him. Someone he had tried so hard to help and he carried that burden with him wherever he went. Logically he knew Jones’s death wasn’t his fault, but knowing and believing were two different things and he was still working to convince himself. In order to correct what he saw as a past mistake, he had exchanged Quincy for Jones and the pressure was crushing her.

  Quincy shoved herself up off the pillows and gasped as fire swept down her neck and chest. She balanced precariously on the edge of the bed, gripping one of the pillows to her chest to ease the pain and breathed as deeply and slowly as she could, knowing the dizziness would eventually pass. How was she supposed to fight a battle on so many fronts? If Logan had his way, she would train with him and Dr. Garrison, learning to use her abilities to rescue others like her. It would give her a purpose, a reason to soldier on. She wanted that, right? Because who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t want to hide and run and fight and lose, in a cycle that looped over and over until it claimed everyone around her? But Logan, with his big, puppy dog eyes and his earnest soul, would never stop fighting. And it was exhausting her.

  Quincy finally staggered to her feet, gripping the back of the chair Logan had sat in the night before to make sure she had her balance, then lurched forward into the tiny shower stall. At least in here, she was completely alone. He couldn’t talk to her, or prod her, or turn the power of his persuasion in her direction. It was just her and the hot water. And as it ran down her face and touched the burns around her throat, she was reminded again of the price Logan’s road was going to cost her.

  Quincy forced herself to stay under the water, letting it hit and irritate the already angry skin around her throat in the hopes it would also ease the bruised and knotted muscles of her neck and shoulders. The steam built around her, loosening the tightness in her chest and helping her breath a little easier. What if she
just stayed right here in this shower forever? She had already decided she was going to have to live, for Logan if for no other reason. But could she actually do it? Now that she was aware of the cycle of sleeplessness and pain, she could feel the toll it was taking on her. The thoughts she had before, about just stopping, letting go, were undoubtedly influenced by exhaustion. Jones had taken his own life. It was completely possible RNB played into those thoughts as well. So the question was, would she even have any control over it? Or would thoughts of ending it all continue, poking and prodding, finding her weaknesses and pushing until she finally gave in. How long could someone fight that kind of finality?

  Quincy closed her eyes and sank to the floor, pulling her legs into her chest and leaning her head back against the wall, water and tears streaming down her face.

  Chapter 72

  Logan

  The shower was still running when Logan got back to the room, steam billowing out from under the door. He smiled. She was so stubborn. She’d almost been killed, yet again, but God forbid she ask for help getting up.

  He set Quincy’s coffee on the bedside table and plopped back down in the same chair he’d been glued to the night before, relieved to be so close to home. When he’d left Quincy in their compartment, he’d decided to call Dr. Garrison before grabbing the coffee. He knew Dave would be worried about them after what had happened last night. Logan grimaced as he took a drink of his own coffee, the action pulling against his shoulder wound. He was glad Quincy had been too out of it yesterday to realize some of the blood had been from him. He set his cup down and gingerly pulled his sleeve up so he could peel back the gauze he’d taped haphazardly in place.

  The Colonel had gotten lucky with his knife, catching Logan right below his left bicep. The wound was jagged and long, curving down his arm and wrapping inside his elbow, but it wasn’t deep. He had mentioned it to Dave though, and the doctor had taken it hard.