Not today, though. My head’s completely empty as I toss the match into the car I’ve been driving the past three weeks. I never keep a car too long—normally three or four months at most—but this particular vehicle has outlived its usefulness a little early. Charlie’s guys will be on the look out for a car with the same plates, which means they’ll be on the look out for me, and I can’t afford that.
I mourn a little as I watch the Chrysler go up in flames, eaten by smoke and the hungry teeth of the fire. It was a damn good car. Such a fucking waste. In the distance, the sun is setting over the city below me and at my back the world is growing darker by the second. It will take me a good two hours to walk from the secluded, forested area where I decided to dump the car back to the outskirts of the city. However, better a long walk than the police finding the burning vehicle too soon and putting out the blaze. Maybe lifting a print or two from inside. That would be a dire situation indeed. Besides, there’s no one out here to see the act. No one out here to see the smoke. No one out here to call emergency services and screw up my meticulously laid plans.
I watch for a while, making sure the fire’s well established, hungry and capable of destroying everything in its path, and then I turn my back on it and start walking. If I called Zeth, he would come get me, but he’d also want to know why I was out in the fucking boonies, blowing up a perfectly good car. I feel bad about deceiving him, but it can’t be helped. And anyway, a long walk is just what I need to clear my head. I’m fourteen miles away from Zeth’s city apartment, still winding my way down narrow mountain roads, when I get a text from the man himself.
Taking Lacey to the Warehouse. Got a job to do. Can you stay with her? She freaks out on her own.
Perfect. That adds an extra seven miles onto my trip. Won’t matter when I make it back to suburbia, though. I can ‘borrow’ a car I surveyed earlier and be over there by nine at latest. I text Zee back an ETA, and then I keep on walking. I get another text from Sara asking why I ran out of there so early this morning, but I don’t reply.
I don’t have time. I never see cars up here, ever—precisely why I chose the spot—and yet the low rumble of an engine is approaching behind me. It would be easy enough to slip into the shadows and become invisible, and no doubt that’s exactly what I should do, but then I change my mind. I’m no longer dressed in Cameron’s old sweats, back in my suit and jacket, and I’m looking like a respectable human being again. No reason why someone wouldn’t stop and pick me up at the side of the road in the dark. Aside from the fact that I’m half black, of course.
Still.
As the car sweeps around the bend, coming down from the pass I’ve just left behind, I stand where I’m sure to be seen and stick my thumb out. Fucker better not hit me. Whoever’s driving isn’t traveling very fast, but they don’t appear to be slowing down, either. I think they’re going to fly right past me but at the last second the car screeches to a halt and comes to a complete stop a couple of feet away. The car reverses, and then I can see shadowy movement inside the wood-paneled, ancient beater, and a guy in his late fifties is leaning over to manually wind down the window on the other side of the car. He pushes his glasses up his nose as he squints out at me into the dark.
“Nearly didn’t see you there, friend. What on earth are you doing out here, stranded in the wilds?” He has a wholesome, clean-cut look to him that makes me think he might be a salesman of some kind. But perhaps not. There’s a small, zipped up leather case on the seat next to him—the kind you’d recognize anywhere if you grew up in a state like Alabama, surrounded by church going folk who carry their scriptures around with them everywhere they go. He’s not a salesman. He’s just Christian.
“Car broke down back there.” I wave my cell phone at him, hoping the damn thing doesn’t light up at the wrong moment. “And of course my battery decided to die, and that was my night ruined. I was supposed to be meeting my girlfriend for dinner.” I give him a rueful smile with just enough tired frustration mixed in to make my story believable. He gives me an aww shucks look and frowns at me some more.
“That’s a real shame. Where do you need to be?”
“Anywhere in the city is good with me. I can catch a cab once I find myself back in civilization.”
“Well, I’m headed to work at St. Peter’s of Mercy. I can drop you there if you like?”
“That would be amazing. Thank you.”
The guy opens the door for me, and I get in. Holding his hand out for me to shake, he says, “My name’s Al. Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise. You live out here, Al?”