“Well, I hope you enjoy it,” Evan said. “You and I don’t cross paths very often. You’re usually busy with other stuff. So while I wouldn’t hang your photo in my locker, I can’t say I hate you. Mostly I just pity you.”
“Why? Because I’m a drunk?”
“No, because you’re special,” Evan replied. “You are special, Theo, even among us freaks. You’re only scratching the surface of your weirdness now. When you find out what you can truly do, man oh man, your life will change. Everyone will want a piece of you. Your friends. The Pelletiers. The U.S. government, eventually. And Peter Pendergen. He’ll be the worst of all.”
Evan laughed. “I love the way he says your name. He’s got an Irish brogue, so to him you’re not Theo Maranan, you’re T’eo Maernin. And he’ll say your name a lot. Oh yes. He’s got plans for you, my friend. To him, you’re Jesus, Neo, and Frodo rolled up in one tortilla. The minute you get to Brooklyn, he’ll set you on a great and impossible task. You’ll spend the rest of your life trying, and you’ll die knowing you failed. There’s your future, Mr. Self-Punishment.”
He leaned over and tapped the tattoo on Theo’s wrist.
“There’s your karma.”
While Theo reeled over all the new information, Evan stood up and let out a stretching groan.
“Well, it’s been fun chatting, T’eo, but it’s way past my bedtime. So I bid . . .” He suddenly slapped his forehead. “Oh crap! I totally forgot the whole reason I came here. Jesus.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Deps,” Evan said, while checking his watch. “They’re hitting your motel in fifty-two minutes. Your friends are going bye-bye unless you get them out now.”
Theo shook his head. “Bullshit . . .”
“Come on. You already sort of knew they were coming, just like you sort of knew that Rebel’s people were coming. You gotta start listening to that inner voice, man.”
He wasn’t wrong. Theo could hear the panicked chatter in his head right now. Run run run from the people with guns. People with guns. People with guns and badges.
“Why would you warn me? What do you get out of helping us?”
Evan walked backward down the street, flashing a droll smile.
“What can I say? I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all. But I do have a hobby. And if you guys got arrested then, gosh, I’d have to learn macrame. Who wants that?”
He turned around and kept ambling. “Oh, and tell Booberella to check her damn pockets already. I can’t do everything for her.”
As he watched Evan leave, Theo suddenly felt the weight of Rebel’s handgun in his knapsack. A cool voice in his head, neither devil nor angel, calmly demanded that he use the weapon to end Evan right now. It insisted that it would be an act of mercy, a one-time chance to prevent future tears, future misery, the future deaths of some very good people.
You’ll look back on this night, the voice told him. You’ll wish you had done it. And so will Hannah.
—
The night clerk at the Aurora Motel nearly dropped her soup when two young police officers entered the lobby. She was a forty-year-old bachelorette, and was highly unused to encountering quality men at her wretched job. When they asked her if any multiple room purchases had been made with cash today, she didn’t hesitate to look through the registry. Yes, indeed. Rooms 115 and 116 were purchased with cash at 2:56 p.m., about six hours before my shift began. This isn’t my career. I’m actually a . . . Oh, what’s this? She looked at the photos of six young people, only one of whom looked familiar. Yes, sir. I did see a fellow of Oriental persuasion pass by my window earlier. I’m pretty sure it was him. He seemed to be in an awful hurry, both times.
At 3:41 A.M., a cadre of policemen and Deps assembled outside the motel. On Cahill’s signal, they made a simultaneous seige of the two rooms.
Both of them were empty.
Five minutes later, Cahill found Melissa sitting at the desk in Room 116. He dropped an empty box of hair dye in front of her.
“Found it in the bin. Guess the redhead’s not a redhead anymore. Nice of her to let us know.”
Melissa shook her head in bother. “Amateurs. They’re all amateurs at this.”
“You seem disappointed.”
“It makes no sense. If they’re such amateurs, how did they know we were coming?”
“They didn’t. They just got a lucky head start.”
Melissa slid the stationery pad across the desk. The top page was graced with Theo’s sloppy handwriting.
We didn’t kill the physicists.
Slack-jawed, Cahill sat down on the bed. “Well, screw me.”
Melissa launched her dark gaze out the window. Cahill was retiring soon. If these outlaws had an honest-to-God augur among them, then she was the one who was screwed.
—
Winded and sweaty, the Silvers perched atop a dark hill and looked back. Beyond the tempic gates of the impound lot, they could see the reflected glow of emergency lights from the motel.
Hannah looked to Theo in flushed confusion. “You going to tell us how you knew?”