I just wanted to go home.
About a block from where my lungs gave out, I saw a bus stop through the rain. I staggered up to it and sat, wet and alone, waiting for the bus to come. That was when I broke down crying.
Everything I’d spent the past few years working towards at MMHA was gone. Part of me had hoped the volunteer work would lead somewhere bigger, but if it didn’t I was okay with that. All I’d wanted was to do something good and make a difference.
Even that had turned into a disaster.
Fifteen minutes later, my tears were somewhat under control. The bus finally came. Unfortunately, it was the wrong bus line, so I ended up riding it much longer than I expected to. Lucky for me, my phone was fully charged. I dragged a pair of earbuds from my backpack and tried to drown out the thoughts in my brain with the loudest, angriest music I could find.
It didn’t work, but at least I’d be home soon, where I could crawl into bed and hide from the world. Hell, maybe I’d even call in sick tomorrow at AJ’s. I didn’t care anymore. All I wanted to do was sleep. After way too long riding around on unfamiliar buses, I finally caught the right one and made it to my stop.
I was soaked, but the rain suited my state of mind. Thanks to the overcast skies, it was far darker than it should have been at midday. That, too, suited my state of mind.
I got off the bus a couple of blocks from my house. When I turned toward my street, I saw a bunch of flashing red and blue lights in my neighborhood. My overworked heart started hammering again, wondering what the hell was happening now. Had there been a fire? Had one of my neighbors called an ambulance? As I reached the corner, it hit me.
It wasn’t the fire service or an ambulance—it was the police. Lots of them. And they weren’t just near my house. They were surrounding it.
I started to panic. Any other day, I would have assumed that it was just some stupid misunderstanding. I would have approached the police cars and asked what was going on. But today? No. This wasn’t a coincidence.
It wasn’t paranoia when they really were out to get you. And whoever this Werther guy was, he was out for blood. Mine.
I remembered my dream—the one about Mom. Her death. How all these years, I’d suspected it wasn’t an accident. Now, I was more certain than ever. Something was wrong in the world. Terribly, terribly wrong.
I could feel it in the ache of my bones. The frantic beat of my heart. Werther wanted me, and I needed to run far and fast. I thought about the creeping sensation of dread he engendered in me, and knew that I couldn’t let him catch me. Something deep inside me was screaming that letting him catch me would mean death, or worse.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled the fallen hood of my raincoat over my head and kept walking. Past the corner, past my street, past the police cars waiting for me. One step at a time, I walked like I didn’t have a care in the world. The rain beat down harder—a fitting accompaniment to my life being washed away in the space of a single morning. I was soaked—a drowned rat scurrying for safety—but at least I was still free.
At least I wasn’t in Werther’s hands.
About a mile away from my house stood a convenience store with a small deli attached. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing no indication anyone was following me. In the pit of my stomach, though, I knew they’d be looking soon. Coming after me.
As I got closer to my temporary destination, my mind spun with worry. I’d watched enough police procedural shows to know all the ways they could track a person these days. Was there any way to hide from this, if Werther really wanted to find me? Especially if he had the cops in his pocket somehow?
Finally, I reached the entrance to the little sandwich shop. Breathless from exhaustion and panic, I scanned the interior for anybody suspicious. Not that I’d know what suspicious looked like under these circumstances, but everything seemed normal. Nothing set off my internal radar. It wasn’t a particularly busy day, and only two other people were inside eating.
I grabbed a cheap plastic booth in the corner and buried my head in my arms. I tried holding in the fresh round of tears, but I couldn’t do it. I was tired. Wet. Alone. I didn’t know what to do. Who to call. Who to trust.
When I could breathe again, I lifted my head. The kid at the counter was eyeing me warily, but thankfully she didn’t seem inclined to come over and talk to me. I wiped my face with a napkin and tried to take stock. A quick rummage through my backpack unearthed a twenty-dollar bill, my Metro pass, and a credit card that was about a hundred dollars from being maxed out.
I cast about for anyone I could call. Vonnie was a no-go because of the MMHA connection. I thought she’d seemed okay when I’d rushed past her while making my escape. But if Daisy could be turned into a pod person, Vonnie could be, too.
My breath caught as an idea surfaced. Len. I could call Len. He’d given me his number yesterday, and for some reason he seemed to give a damn about me. When another nervous glance at my surroundings showed nothing suspicious, I pulled out my cell and scrolled to his number, then hit call and waited.
It rang a few times before Len finally answered. “Who’s this?” he asked, and I realized he’d have no way to recognize my number.
I swallowed hard. “Len? It’s Zorah. I… I’m in trouble.”
There was a slight pause. “Oh, my god. What the hell is going on?” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Zorah, the cops are here at the restaurant, and they’re asking about you.”
I had to suppress a moan of near-despair. “I didn’t do anything, Len,” I said, desperate to make him believe me. “They’re at my house, too. I don’t know what the hell is happening!”
Another pause. I held my breath. When Len spoke again, his voice held a faint tremor. “Okay. Okay, Zorah. Whatever you do, don’t come here. Look… they’re coming back to the kitchen. I can’t talk now. I’ll try to call you in a few minutes. Be safe.”
Len hung up and I tapped the end button, feeling the finality as the call disconnected. I sat in the booth, staring out the window—watching the rain fall to earth.
Nowhere to go. No one to trust.
Alone.
NINE
NUMBNESS WAS STARTING TO creep in around the fear, and I welcomed it. The girl at the counter was still giving me the side-eye. No surprise since I hadn’t ordered anything, and had basically come in and started crying all over her freshly wiped table. I was also starting to get unwanted attention from the other patrons. Under the circumstances, having attention on me felt dangerous.
I’d managed to blot my tears and was trying to think through my options logically when Len called back. I nearly fumbled the phone in my haste to take the call.
“Len?” I asked breathlessly.
“Zorah, what the fuck happened today?” Len asked, his voice quiet. “Tell me quick—the cops are out talking to the manager right now.”
I took a deep breath, trying to organize my rampaging thoughts. “Okay. Remember that stalker guy last night? Well, long story short—he claims to be a state auditor. I volunteer downtown at a non-profit and help with keeping their books. Ponytail Guy showed up this morning claiming I embezzled money from the organization and committed tax fraud to hide it. My boss fired me on the spot and when I went home, there were a bunch of cops surrounding my house. But I swear, Len—I swear to you—I didn’t do anything. You know me… would I be riding the bus and stressing over my busted transmission if I’d been skimming tens of thousands of dollars from someone? None of it makes any sense!”
There was a short pause. “I believe you, Zorah.” I released my breath, taken by surprise at how much it affected me to hear someone say that. He continued, “Look, if you didn’t do anything… maybe you should just give yourself up. I mean, I’m not any huge fan of the cops or the legal system, but these things usually have a way of working themselves out if you’re innocent.”
I shook my head even though he couldn’t see it. “No, there’s way more to this. I’m telling you, the stuff he asked me yesterday at th
e restaurant was all really personal. It had nothing to do with the non-profit or my work. And honestly, Len, the guy gives me the major creeps. It’s not just the normal ‘guys suck’ thing, but like… he’s dangerous. Seriously fucking dangerous. I know, it sounds stupid. But whenever I’m around him, I want to crawl out of my own skin and run away.”
Another pause. “I saw how freaked out you were with him. And that was after seeing how freaked out you weren’t, when Jake was being an asshole before your shift. I just… want you to keep your options open, when it comes to the police, okay? Other than that, are you safe?”
“Yeah,” I said unthinkingly. “I think so. I’m at the—”
He cut me off. “No, stop. Don’t tell me where you are. It’s safer that way. In case the police… you know.”
Jesus. He was right. And I wasn’t used to having to think like this. Like a fugitive. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good. Hey, I’ve got to go. They’re coming back into the kitchen again. Stay safe, girl.”
The phone went silent. He’d hung up.
I was alone again. I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I was alone whether Len was on the phone with me or not. What did I expect him to do for me right now?
Cops were at AJ’s looking for me. They were at my house. Who the hell knew where else they were, but they were obviously dead serious about finding me. I tried to think. I’d never been so much as fingerprinted before. I wasn’t in any registry that I knew of, so they couldn’t really know what I looked like unless they looked up my driver’s license, right?
Even so, I wasn’t at all sure of my ability to evade the cops on my own. If they wanted to find me badly enough, they would—eventually. But maybe I could stay out of the net long enough to get some legal help lined up, at the very least. Right now, if I disappeared, who would notice?
I didn’t know if I could trust Vonnie, or if Werther might have gotten to her somehow. My supervisor at the restaurant would assume the cops had caught up with me. Len would know something was wrong, but it was a stretch to expect him to stick his neck out any further for me than he already had. I was growing to like him, but the reality was, we barely knew each other. It was a sobering thought.
I sat for a while longer, thinking about what I had with me. Twenty bucks and a credit card. Maybe I could find a cheap motel somewhere, but the cops could probably track me based on my credit card use. I really didn’t know much about that stuff, beyond the fact that with technology today, if somebody wanted to find me, they would.
The more I thought about how to get out of this, the angrier I got. I was completely alone. No close friends, no family worth a damn. How the hell had my life come to this? I was not going to become some statistic… some kind of bullshit Illuminati conspiracy victim. This was America. People weren’t supposed to be hauled away by the police on trumped-up charges to face god-knew-what at the hands of creepy government officials. I refused to lie down for this.
The counter girl was beginning to look decidedly twitchy. I figured it would be a good idea to relocate before she started to think about calling her manager or asking me to leave. There was a grocery store a few blocks away that would be much busier. I figured crowds would be my friend right now. Anonymity was what I needed.
Taking a deep breath, I stood and gathered my things, then left the deli. As I glanced around the area, there didn’t seem to be anybody looking for me. Still, I didn’t want to take any chances. I put my hood up as I started walking down the cracked sidewalk.
It was a busy street, so nobody would pay much mind to me… I hoped. But I kept my head down just in case. After a couple of blocks, I reached the grocery store and went inside. The pharmacy was beside the restrooms, and there were benches in the hallway outside. Sitting here, I would look like any other customer waiting for a prescription to be filled. The noise of tinny Muzak and people talking would cover the details of a quiet phone conversation, as long as no one decided to plop down on the same bench as me.
To discourage that, I set my bag down next to me, taking up way more space than I really needed. Still full of my earlier determination to do whatever it took to get out of this, I pulled my phone out, took a deep breath, and called my dad.
I could predict with reasonable certainty how this conversation was going to go. But the fact remained, he was the only resource I hadn’t tried to use yet. Realistically, at this point, he was the only resource I had left.
After a few rings, he answered.
“Dad?” My hands were shaking just holding my cell.
“Zorah? Is that you? I’m working, what do you want?” Short. To the point. Exactly what I’d expected.
“Yeah, sorry. Listen, I really need you, Dad. Something’s happened.”
The phone went silent for a long moment. I seemed to be having that effect on people a lot today. Then, “Are you okay? What is it?”
Holy crap. Was that concern in his voice?
“No. I’m not okay, Dad. I need help.” I couldn’t lie, as much as I wanted to. As much as I wanted to pretend I was strong, and that I had my shit together, I really, really didn’t right now. “Something real bad is going on, and I don’t know what to do. Last night at AJ’s, this creepy guy came in and harassed me for my entire shift—start to finish. He kept asking me things like if I lived in town, and how old I was. He even asked if you and Mom were alive.”
My voice trembled on the last sentence. I took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
“Then today, I went to MMHA and the same guy was there, claiming to be an auditor for the state. He was saying that I embezzled money and committed fraud, which I swear to you I didn’t. I had the supporting documents all ready to prove that I hadn’t done anything wrong, but he wouldn’t even let me defend myself. My supervisor fired me on the spot, and this guy threatened me on my way out. When I went home, there were cop cars surrounding the house, and a guy at AJ’s told me over the phone that cops were there, too, looking for me. I’m so sorry to dump this on you, Dad… but I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know who else to call. I’m afraid. Really fucking afraid. What do I do?”
Finally, I ran out of breath and the tumbling words fell silent. I knew what came next, and tried to brace for it. You’ve always been trouble. I told you something like this would happen eventually.
When he spoke, I had to replay the words in my head to make sure I’d heard them properly.
“Find the nearest Western Union location to wherever you are right now. I’ll wire you money anonymously so you can buy a bus ticket to Chicago.”
Wait, what?
Stunned, I scrambled to phrase a reply. My father was organizing an escape plan… for me? This wasn’t how our relationship worked. I’d hoped for, well, honestly I wasn’t sure what I’d hoped for. Some kind of advice on finding a lawyer. Maybe an insight into how the Department of Revenue and the state auditor’s office processed things like this.
Not… real help. Not support.
Damn it, I was going to burst into tears again. “Thank you,” I breathed, my body feeling shaky.
He wasn’t interested in heartfelt exchanges, though. “Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone who you are. Don’t use credit cards, or ID. You won’t need an ID to claim the money. They’ll let you use a ten-digit code and a password in lieu of identification documents. I’ll run down the street and get it set up on my end, then text the code to you.”
I was still in shock. “Okay,” I said faintly.
“Afterward, you should head straight to the bus station downtown. Buy a ticket from St. Louis to Chicago with cash, and I’ll meet you at the station when you get here.”
This was so completely out of character for my dad, I couldn’t help but freak out a little. Why was he helping me? Was he only a distant, passive-aggressive asshole when things were normal? But when shit got real, he suddenly turned into Super Dad, flying to the rescue? I was having real trouble wrapping my mind around the concept.
“Dad—” I began, unsur
e how the sentence would continue.
“I’ll contact you from the Western Union store in a few minutes.” And just like that, he hung up.
I stared at the phone. Did that really just happen? Did my dad just pull a solid to protect me? My dad? The man who’d emotionally checked out of our stunted, two-person family almost two decades ago?
I sat there staring around me at the bustling grocery store in the city I’d lived in all my life. A city I was about to leave, maybe never to return. Still fighting shock over this whole thing, I grabbed my backpack. There was a Western Union desk right at the customer service counter of the store. I’d walked past it a hundred times over the years, though I’d never had cause to use it before. I wondered if the store had a cheap prepaid phone I could buy, as well. It seemed like I should probably ditch mine as soon as possible, just to be safe.
As I walked from the pharmacy to the customer service desk, I wondered anew at my dad’s actions. For twenty years, he’d played the part of a man who’d lost everything he cared about and just… given up. But maybe he still had something left to lose after all.
Me.
TEN
WAITING WAS SLOW TORTURE. I imagined a hundred ways this could go wrong while I stood in line at the Western Union desk. The top of the list was Dad coming to his senses and changing his mind—refusing to answer his phone. Leaving me hanging. With only two people ahead of me, I picked up my cell and called him.
He picked up on the second ring. “Zorah? I’m at the place now. Give me a minute to get the transfer set up.”
“Okay,” I breathed, relief washing through me. He hadn’t abandoned me. I waited, foot jittering as I listened to the indistinct sound of people talking over the tinny connection, too far away from the microphone for the sense of the words to come through. The last person in front of me finished their transaction and I stepped up to the desk.
The Last Vampire Box Set Page 7