The Last Flight

by Julie Clark

  “What you make has a very specific market,” Dex continued. “You will only sell to people referred to you by me. This is how you’ll stay safe.”

  “I’m confused,” Eva had said. “Am I making or selling?”

  Dex folded his hands on top of the table. They’d finished eating, and the server had tucked the check next to Dex’s water glass and then disappeared. “Historically, Fish has struggled to keep good chemists for long. They always think they can do better on their own and then things get complicated. So we’re going to try something different with you,” he’d said. “You will produce three hundred pills a week. As compensation for this work, you will keep half and Fish will let you sell them yourself, keeping one hundred percent of those profits.”

  “Who will I sell them to?” she’d asked, suddenly uncomfortable, imagining herself face-to-face with strung-out addicts. People who might grow violent. People like her mother.

  Dex smiled. “You will provide an important service to a very specific clientele—students, professors, and athletes. Five pills should sell for about two hundred dollars,” Dex had told her. “You can clear $300,000 per year, easy.” He smiled at her stunned expression. “This only works if you follow the rules,” he’d warned. “If we hear you’re branching out, or selling to addicts, you put everything and everyone at risk. Understand?”

  She’d nodded and cast an anxious glance toward the entrance. “What about Fish? I thought he’d be here today.”

  Dex laughed and shook his head. “God, you’re green. I forget you don’t know how any of this works. If you do your job well, you’ll never meet Fish.” She must have looked confused, because he clarified. “Fish keeps things compartmentalized. It’s how he protects himself. If any one person knew too much, they’d become a target—of either a competitor or the police. I’ll be your handler, and I’ll make sure you stay safe.” Dex dropped several twenty-dollar bills onto the table and stood. Their meal was over. “If you do as I tell you, you’ll have a nice life. It’s safe as long as you follow the rules.”

  “Don’t you worry about getting caught?”

  “Despite what you might see on TV, the police only know the ones they catch, and they only catch the dumb ones. But Fish isn’t dumb. He’s not in this for power. He’s a businessman who thinks about long-term gains. And that means growing slowly, being selective about his clients as well as the people who work for him.”

  She’d been eager to get started. It had sounded so simple. And the system worked. The only hard part was being on campus among her peers, having to live alongside the life she’d just lost. Walking past her dorm where the same people still lived. The chemistry building where her classes went on without her. The stadium where Wade continued to shine, and one year later, the graduation ceremony that should have been hers. It was as if she’d stepped through some kind of barrier, where she could watch her old life still unfold, unseen. But as the years passed, the students grew younger and soon campus was populated by all new people. The loss had faded, as all losses did, replaced by something harder. Stronger. She could see now what she couldn’t see then. All choices had consequences. It was what you did with those consequences that mattered.

  * * *

  Eva’s gaze tracked down the small service road that wound its way through the hundreds of acres that comprised Tilden Park. Something about this meeting felt off, and her instincts, finely tuned after so many years, were pinging. She’d give Brittany ten more minutes and then leave. Return to her car and drive home, closing the door and forgetting about this woman. Eva worked hard to stay sharp. To not grow complacent and careless. Despite how mundane the work could sometimes feel—the endless hours in the lab, the quick handoffs with Dex or a client—this job was dangerous.

  Early on—it must have been some time in her first year—Dex had woken her, just before dawn, a quiet knocking on her door. “Come with me,” he’d said, and she’d pulled her coat from the hook, following him across the deserted campus, the pathways still lit by lamps.

  They’d walked west without talking, past the track stadium, restaurants and bars closed and shuttered at that predawn hour. She’d seen the flashing emergency lights from a block away. Police, ambulance, yellow crime-scene tape cordoning off the sidewalk outside a cheap motor court motel, forcing them to cross the street.

  Dex had put his arm around her and pulled her close, as if they were a couple making their way home after a late night out. They’d slowed as they drew near, and Eva could make out a body, a puddle of blood seeping out from under it, a shoeless foot, the white sock practically glowing.

  “Why are we here? Do you know that guy?”

  “Yeah,” he’d said, his voice rough. “Danny. He supplied Fish with harder stuff. Coke. Heroin.”

  Dex pulled her along, and they rounded the corner, the flashing red and blue lights still staining the backs of her eyelids. “What happened to him?”

  “I don’t know,” Dex had told her. “Like you, I only see what I’m allowed to see. But if I had to guess, he was either double-dealing—working for one of Fish’s competitors—or he fucked up somehow, got snagged by police.” He paused. “That’s the thing about Fish. He’s not going to spend a lot of time asking questions. He’s just going to fix the problem.”

  Eva couldn’t erase the image from her mind, the twisted form of the body, the sheer volume of blood, more than she’d ever imagined, a black-red shade that only appeared in nightmares.

  Dex had dropped his arm from around her, and cold morning air chilled the place where it had rested. “Fish is a strong ally, but a ruthless enemy. He will not hesitate to eliminate anyone who betrays him. Maybe it was a mistake to have brought you here, but I needed you to see for yourself what will happen if you cross him.”

  Eva had swallowed hard. Up until that point, she’d fooled herself into believing this job had been no different from any other—mostly routine, maybe a little dangerous in some abstract way. But Dex had insulated her from the worst of it. Until that morning.

  “Full transparency,” Dex had warned, as they walked back up her street, the night sky finally shifting to a pale gray. He deposited her on the porch and disappeared, making her wonder if she’d dreamt it all.

  * * *

  Eva was just about to hop off the picnic table and head back to her car when a Mercedes SUV pulled up at the curb, a polished woman behind the wheel. In the back, Eva could make out a child’s car seat, thankfully empty. The license plate read FUNMOM1. Her lingering unease intensified, and she took a deep breath, reminding herself she was in control of the situation and could walk away at any time.

  She watched as the woman got out of the car. “Thanks for meeting me!” she called. Her clothes were expensive casual. Chanel sunglasses tipped up on her head. Knee-high UGG boots, worn over designer jeans. This was not Eva’s typical ramen-fed student.

  Up close, Eva could see the woman’s red-rimmed eyes, how her skin looked tired and stretched, though her makeup was flawless, and another tingle of apprehension zipped through her.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had to wait for the sitter to show up.” She held out her hand for Eva to shake. “I’m Brittany.”

  Eva let it hang there, keeping her own hands in her pockets, and Brittany finally let it fall to her side as she began digging through her purse as if she’d just remembered why she’d come. “I was hoping I could buy more than what we’d talked about. I know I asked for five pills, but I really need ten.” She pulled a wad of cash out of her purse and held it out to Eva. “That’s four hundred instead of two.”

  “I only brought five with me,” Eva said, not taking the money.

  Brittany shook her head, as if that were a minor detail. “I’d be happy to meet you again tomorrow. Same place, if that suits you.”

  The marine layer from over the bay finally rolled in, skirting over the sun, casting gray shadows and dimming the ligh
t. Wind kicked up, causing Eva to pull her coat tighter. Brittany looked over her shoulder and then lowered her voice, although they were the only ones around. “We’re leaving on Saturday for a trip,” she continued. “We won’t be back until next month. I just want to make sure I’m not caught short.”

  Eva’s body tensed. This woman drove a fancy car, wore expensive clothes, and had a big diamond on her finger. It was one thing to need the pills to push through a difficult task. This woman seemed to need pharmaceutical help to navigate her daily life. But Eva’s resistance felt more personal, bubbling up from her darkest corners, surprising her with its heat. This was a woman like her mother.

  “I don’t think I can help you,” Eva said.

  “At least let me buy what you brought,” Brittany said, her words loud, tearing through the empty clearing. “Please.”

  Eva’s gaze snagged on several scabs dotting the backs of Brittany’s hands, picked red and raw by nervous fingers. Brittany thrummed with manic energy, and Eva only wanted to leave.

  “We’re done here,” Eva said.

  “Wait,” Brittany said, reaching out for Eva’s arm. “Tell me what I can do to change your mind.”

  Eva yanked her arm back and turned to walk away.

  “Come on,” Brittany cajoled from behind her. “It’s why we’re here. You make the sale and get your money. I get what I need, and we both win.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eva called over her shoulder. “You must have me confused with someone else.” Then she strode toward the hiking trail that wound through the trees and down the hill to the lot where she parked her car.

  As she passed the SUV, she looked in the window. The back seat was littered with Cheerios, an empty sippy cup, and a pink hair ribbon. Eva slowed for a moment, wondering what that child’s life was like, living with a mother who begged for enough pills to be strung out for weeks. She wondered if her own mother had been like Brittany, buying drugs in a deserted park while Eva was stuck at home with a sitter. Beneath it all, she hated herself for the fleeting whisper of jealousy that this little girl still got to know her mother while Eva had not.

  As she moved into the woods, Eva heard Brittany yelling obscenities after her. Then she heard the slam of a car door and the engine rev, before tires squealed away from the curb. She looked over her shoulder and saw the car swerve, skidding against the curb as it careened around a bend in the road. Eva held her breath, bracing for the sound of impact that didn’t come, then hurried back to her own car.

  * * *

  Eva saw her again, at the gas station directly across from the park exit, as she waited at a red light. That same SUV, and Brittany leaning out of her open window, talking to a man who stood next to a low sedan with tinted windows and government plates. Brittany handed the man a slip of paper, which he tucked into the pocket of his sport coat.

  The light turned green, and still Eva stared, her unease from earlier crashing back into her, quickly morphing into a dark panic. Behind her, someone honked, jolting her attention back to the road, forcing her to drive forward. As she drew nearer, she tried to capture as many details as she could. The man’s short brown hair and mirrored sunglasses. The outline of a holster beneath his sport coat. And as she drove away, she wondered what Brittany had just put into play.

  * * *

  At home, Eva pulled her car into the small garage at the side of the house and closed the door, locking it with the padlock. She was desperate to get inside and call Dex, but her new neighbor was sitting on the front step, as if she was waiting for her. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath.

  Relief spread across the woman’s face when she saw Eva. “I fell,” she said. “Missed that last stair and took a tumble. I think my ankle is sprained. Could you help me inside?”

  Eva glanced down the street, thinking again of the man at the gas station, of the piece of paper he slipped into his coat. She didn’t have time for this. But she couldn’t leave the woman on the porch. “Sure,” she said.

  Eva helped the woman stand and was surprised at how tiny she was. Barely five feet tall and easily into her sixties, she was wiry but strong. She gripped the railing and pulled herself up the steps as Eva supported her, hopping on one foot until she got to the top. Eva gave her a moment to catch her breath, and together they made it to the door and into her apartment.

  Warm-colored rugs covered the floor, contrasting with a cream-colored couch. One wall in the dining room had been painted a deep red, and half-emptied shipping boxes cluttered the corners. Eva helped her to a chair, and the woman sat.

  “Do you want some ice?” Eva asked, impatient to move things along. She needed to contact Dex, to figure out what was going on and what she should do, not play nursemaid to her neighbor.

  “Let’s start with names,” she said. “I’m Liz.”

  Eva fought back a growing panic, feeling the minutes slipping away, caught in some kind of a small-talk time warp with her chatty neighbor. But she smiled anyways and said, “My name is Eva.”

  “Nice to finally meet you, Eva. Yes, I would love some ice. Straight through there, if you don’t mind.”

  Dismissed, Eva entered the kitchen, which was bare except for a few plates and glasses on the counter by the sink. In the freezer, Liz had a tray of ice cubes that Eva broke apart and piled into a dishtowel, winding the top closed. She grabbed a glass from the dish rack next to the sink and filled it with water, noticing how her hands trembled as she carried them both back to the living room and handed them to Liz. She was about to make her excuses and leave when Liz said, “Have a seat. Keep me company.”

  With another quick glance toward the window and the empty street beyond, she lowered herself onto a chair that allowed her to keep an eye on things outside.

  Liz’s smile grew wider. “I don’t know very many people here yet,” she said. “I’m a visiting professor from Princeton, teaching two classes this semester.”

  Eva smiled politely, only half-listening as Liz talked about how much she was looking forward to a California winter, and ran through the encounter with Brittany again. What she’d said. The way her hands shook. How desperate she’d been to make the deal. Any deal. Gradually, Eva’s mind began to slow, the panic subsiding. She’d been in tight spots before, and she reminded herself that she hadn’t done anything illegal. She was safe for now in Liz’s living room, with a clear view of the street, listening to Liz explain why she preferred to rent an apartment rather than subject herself to the politics of faculty housing. She could practically feel her blood pressure lowering.

  “Now tell me,” Liz said. “What do you do? Where are you from?”

  Eva tore her gaze from the window and delivered her standard reply. “I grew up in San Francisco. I’m a server at DuPree’s in downtown Berkeley.” And then she swung the conversation back to Liz. “So you’re a professor? What do you teach?”

  Liz reached for her water and took a drink. “Political economics,” she said. “Economic theory and the accompanying political economic systems.” She laughed. “I promise you, it’s a fascinating subject.”

  She pulled the ice off, and Eva watched as she studied her ankle, turning it cautiously. Liz looked up and grinned. “Not a sprain. Which is a relief, because launching a new semester on crutches would have been a challenge.”

  There was something about Liz’s voice, deep and resonant despite her small size, that calmed Eva. It vibrated inside of her, causing her to breathe deeper. To listen harder. Eva imagined her at the front of a large lecture hall, her voice carrying into the very farthest corners. The scratch of pens on paper or the quick tapping on laptops, students eagerly recording everything she said.

  From her position on Liz’s couch, Eva saw the government sedan glide down the street and slow to a stop at the curb. The same man who’d been talking to Brittany at the gas station got out and walked up their front path.r />
  Her mind began connecting dots she hadn’t even known were there, passing over the question of how he’d found her house to its inevitable answer—there must have been someone else following her. Someone she hadn’t seen.

  Eva stood suddenly and moved toward Liz. Away from the window. “Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”

  Liz put the ice back on her ankle and said, “I’ll tell you what I need. I need you to dump out this crappy tap water and fill my glass with vodka. Get one for yourself too. It’s in the freezer.” The faint sound of knocking from next door caught Liz’s attention. “I think someone’s knocking on your door,” she said.

  Eva peeked through the blinds and saw the man slide something into her mail slot. Every nerve in her body tingled with fear, urging her to run. She glanced through the doorway and into Liz’s kitchen, imagining herself tearing out the back door, through the back gate and down the alley, sprinting all the way to Dex’s, demanding answers.

  But she took a deep breath, reminding herself that all she’d done was talk to a woman in the park. She hadn’t sold her anything, or even showed her anything. Play through. Advice Dex used to give her in the early days when she’d get scared. Only guilty people run. That’s exactly what they’re waiting for you to do. So don’t do it.

  “I’ve seen this guy before,” Eva lied. “He’s selling subscriptions to an alarm company. You have to pretend like you’re not home, otherwise he’ll talk your ear off.”

  “I hate door-to-door salesmen,” Liz said. If she thought it odd he didn’t come to her door next, she didn’t mention it.