Behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.
My Jane was that pale horse? Not in a million years. She was everything frail and true left in the world. The temptation to run over the man was intense, but I pressed on, glaring at him as I made my way through the crowd. Still, my foot itched to press the pedal.
When I got home, the TV was worse. The news of Jane’s upcoming trial consumed everyone’s programing. I couldn’t even escape it at home. Throngs of women wearing white gowns camped out in front of city hall, their heads shaved smooth. They called themselves Jane’s Angels. A strange Asian woman was interviewed, claiming to be Jane’s mother. She was treated with all the respect her story allowed. Even though the woman was old enough to play the part, Jane was definitely not Asian, and nothing about her looked like this woman at all. The newscaster catered to the obviously crazy woman but eventually panned away to someone else. The thing that struck me was the woman’s conviction. She was serious. She really believed Jane was hers. There didn’t seem to be any motive other than that of a mother.
My thoughts about that stalled as I caught movement in the background of the news piece. There was a large crowd around the newscaster, but away in the fringes, just on the edge of the crowd was a face I knew. Well, I didn’t know him specifically, but I knew the markings, and I knew the look.
He was bald but wore a sweatshirt, the hooded part over his head. Those eyes on him were the eyes of the vulture, the scavenger, the hyena. They were the eyes of the villains my Abuela would tell us about in old stories. Across his forehead were the words that almost always labeled his kind for everyone to see.
GREED
“Flesh dealer.”
The word sent a chill of fear down my spine. After I said it, I picked up the phone and asked my manager if I could start pulling triple shifts in solitary.
It was a long day right before Jane’s trial was to begin. I had been up all night and was scheduled to work all day. Officer Marks was supposed to relieve me then, so I could sleep, but I demanded to be on Jane’s security detail the next morning on the way to the trial. As per usual, I opened the door of solitary to escort the lawyer. Most things were becoming habits and involuntary motions for me. The world moved around me the way it did with the sleep deprived, like a boring play I couldn’t help but participate in even though I had died years ago. What snapped me out of it was when he grabbed my shoulder.
“Officer Cruz, can I have a word with you?”
I was taken aback. The man looked just as haggard as I did, but in his eyes sat an intensity that told me to go along with it to see what was bothering him so much. I nodded, and we made our way out into the little rectangle of yard the solitary inmates were allowed to use once a week for exercise.
“What’s going on?”
“She’s not going to win.”
“What?”
“There is nothing I can do. The cards are stacked against her. Higher-ups don’t want her free. They want her gone, one way or another. Her presence brings up a lot of questions. This is an impossible case to win.”
My mouth hung open. Words refused to form.
“I need your help,” he said, quieter than before. “I need you to help me get her out of here. We can’t let her make it to trial.”
“I’m sorry. What are you asking me?”
“I’m asking you to help me make sure Jane is gone from here before her trial. If she goes to trial, there’s no way she will win.”
“Are you asking me to help you break out your client from prison?”
A shadow passed over his face, as if he suddenly realized he might be betting on the wrong horse. With a deep breath, he placed his bet anyway.
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”
My glower lasted a long while. He twitched under my scrutiny. For the first time, I noticed his tie was lopsided, and the circles under his eyes were about as deep as mine. The long nights worrying about Jane hadn’t been mine alone. I thought about her and the flitty cape she put on my shoulders.
“All right, Mr. Mansel. What did you have in mind?”
He smiled despite how exhausted he looked, and laid out our plan.
The next day was the trial. I buzzed open Jane’s cell door exactly at eight in the morning. She stood looking very thin in the orange jumpsuit that fit her the way a tent might fit a flagpole. When her eyes met mine, they were relieved. She ran to me and hugged me around the neck.
“I’m so glad you’re the one taking me.”
I hugged her back. There was a slight sour smell in the air, as if she’d been sick.
“Nervous?” I asked.
“Yes. My stomach won’t settle. I’m so afraid.”
“Don’t worry. I’m here, and Mr. Mansel is waiting outside for us.”
She brightened, which said a world of compliments for the lawyer.
I cuffed her hands together in front of her and chained them around her waist as loosely as I could. A silly precaution for someone like Jane, but it was part of the rules, and appearances needed to be considered for the time being. We walked to the front in anticipatory silence.
When I opened the doors, a cavalcade of voices flowed in as well. A din swelled around us, threatening to swallow us whole. Jane cringed next to me. I thought she might faint at any minute, but Mr. Mansel was next to us in a flash. He threaded one arm through the crook of her elbow and steadied her on her feet. I walked a little ahead, with one hand positioned on my gun. My hackles were up and my senses peaked.
We had been forced to erect a temporary fence along the path from the front gate to the parking lot where the shuttles were. All types of people crowded against it, pressing themselves into the chain link to get a better look. They shouted praises, questions, and curses at us as we made our way along the protected pathway.
“Jane! Jane! Is that your real name?”
“Do you worship God?”
“What sort of abomination are you?”
“The Devil! The Devil lives in her skin!”
“Praise be to Jane!”
She tried to shrink into the lawyer, and he covered her as much as he could with his jacket.
“My client has no comment other than she is completely innocent.”
“Jane! Jane! Jane!”
“Angel Jane, save us from ourselves!”
“Kill her now while we still can!”
I flipped the latch that held my gun in place in my holster, ready to draw it if needed. When we reached the edge of the cacophony, I looked around for the shuttle bus. It wasn’t there. The receiving area was deserted. Instead, a tinted black Town Car pulled up to the opening in the fence. The windows were so dark I couldn’t make out the driver. Mansel hadn’t told me about a Town Car. I turned to the lawyer with a questioning glance as they caught up with me.
“This is our ride,” he said. “Trust me.”
We opened the back door and piled into the peculiar chariot. The slam of the car door was followed by a quick spinning of tires and the car’s acceleration. A thick black screen partition separated us and the driver, a blindness that made me nervous. When the car left the prison’s gravel drive and turned onto the nearest road, the wheels spun and squealed a bit underneath us again. Terror filled me. I braced my whole body for action. The lawyer just pounded his fist against the partition and yelled.
“Damn it, Dakota! I said drive casual!”
The black partition rolled down with that automatic hum, and a woman peered back at us with an excited smile. Her short, green hair stood out in a strange pattern from underneath a chauffeur’s hat. One side was shaved.
“Sorry about that. I haven’t driven a car like this in years.”
“Dakota!” Jane practically squealed when she saw the green-haired woman. Her eyes lit up, and she made to try to hug her but didn’t get very far in the crowded back seat.
I felt the tiniest pang of jealousy somewhere inside my chest.
“Give me your hands,” I told Jane.
She did so, and I unlocked her cuffs. Then I unwound the chain from around her waist while the lawyer dug a parcel from under the car seat. He produced a set of clothing, and Jane changed inside the car with us.
“You mean, we aren’t going to trial?” asked Jane.
“No way. You weren’t going to make it through a trial. We have to get you out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“Dakota is driving like we are going to the courthouse to not draw suspicion, but we are going to switch out cars. The parking garage downtown is near a lot of other parking garages. There’s a van in one of them with clothes and provisions. You, me, and Dakota are going to run away somewhere. Camp or something. Get out of town. We have to hide you away from people.”
I looked at him, flummoxed. He had told me about the other car and about the other driver, but not beyond that. The story was to say they overpowered me and stole my gun, but where would they go? He never told me. Why had I not thought to ask?
“You are leaving with her?”
The lawyer gave me a level look. “What would your solution be? To keep her in solitary?”
“No, but...”
“We don’t have time to discuss it. Hiding Jane is the primary goal.”
Dakota took a right turn a little rough. Buildings seemed to surround us suddenly. A gauntlet of skyscrapers, like glass mountains, rose so high around us it was hard to see the summit from the ground. We were approaching downtown.
“Dakota, take it easy,” he barked at her.
“I’m nervous,” she snapped.
“Look, Cruz, you just tell them we pulled a gun on you and give us a good fifteen-minute head start. That’s all we need, and you can go back to your life.”
“And you are going to just abandon your life here to go into hiding with Jane?”
It was a real question, and he took it seriously. That heavy look he’d been carrying fell over his eyes again, but he didn’t answer immediately. When he did, it was a whisper. “Yes.”
I turned to the driver and nodded at her. “You too? You ready to give up everything to hide this girl?”
“Yes,” she said, looking back at us in the reflection of the rear-view mirror.
The word pride bobbed up and down on her forehead as she did. I looked back at Elliot Mansel, Mr. Big Shot Attorney.
“Why?”
He sighed deeply, glancing at Jane before meeting my gaze again. “Because it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever done in my miserable life.”
A smile threatened to invade my face. I knew exactly what he meant.
“Okay. Me too then,” I said.
“What? Why?” he asked.
“Because I have the fucking gun. That’s why.”
Everyone fell silent, and Jane giggled beneath her hands.
“But camping is a no go, chief. We can’t hide in the woods forever. We need another plan,” I said.
“Says the woman with the gun?”
“Says the woman who really hates freakin’ spiders and shitting in the woods and desires a practical future. Tents are not a practical future.”
“Any suggestions, then?” he asked, more than a little annoyed.
“No, not really...”
An oppressive silence infected the luxury car. No one seemed to know a good way to say this plan was doomed.
“Four Points,” said Dakota from the driver seat.
She had pulled into a parking spot inside a garage and slammed the car into park. We were in the shade. The only sound was the muffled rumble of cars driving on other levels. When she turned around to meet our faces, she was smiling like a lunatic.
“Four Points?”
“Yes, Four Points.”
“Start making sense, Dakota,” said the lawyer.
“My family in Louisiana. They own a fish camp down on Four Points. I went fishing there all the time in the summer. It’s huge, with like five bedrooms. No one goes out there anymore. It’s in the middle of nowhere. We could live away from people, in hiding. The closest town is Dulac. It’s tiny Cajun country. We’d be invisible.”
Our party of four contemplated that for a moment. Well, I contemplated it, and hoped the others were leaning toward the direction that didn’t include spiders.
“Not a bad idea,” said the lawyer. “And if it doesn’t work, we’ll work from there.”
“Good. Now, let’s get out of here. Where is the van?” I asked.
“One block over. Let’s go.”
We extricated ourselves from the Town Car and made our way to the stairwell. The goal was to get to the ground floor undetected by the throngs of people camped only a block away in front of the courthouse. The only sounds we made were our footsteps on the stairs and the panting breath of the lawyer as we ran down four flights.
By the time we hit the ground floor, it was already too late. A bright light nearly blinded all of us as the constant prattle of a reporter pelted our ears. I shielded my eyes from the light and saw the plucky blond anchor from the Channel Eight newsroom blocking our path with a handheld recording device in her left hand. The device had a bright light on it, and she was using it to illuminate Jane.
“Miss Sparrow, what are you doing here? Are you not supposed to be going to the courthouse right now for your trial? Does this mean you are pleading innocent? Guilty? Are you escaping custody, Miss Sparrow?”
Jane starred into the light, terrified and confused. The white light seemed to make her skin glow. Stunned and silent, Jane shone like an angel or an alien or a ghost. She looked over to me for help.
My hand was on my gun, and I was ready to pull it on this woman. Another second, and perhaps the scenario would’ve played out that way. I might have had a chance to forever stain my soul with her blood. That all might have happened, except a small Asian woman and a tall black boy shoved the reporter from behind and knocked her down. The boy grabbed the portable recorder while the woman pulled a pocket canister of bear mace out and blasted the reporter in the eyes with it.
We all backed away. The smell of the mace filled the air, and we covered our faces when the stinging hit our eyes. The reporter writhed and wriggled in pain, but the woman just kept the spray going until there wasn’t any more left. Then, she flung the empty canister and hit the reporter on the head with it. In that instant, the only sound in the air was the yipping of a little poodle dog dancing around the woman’s feet.
This would have been hilarious under any other circumstances. Right then, it was all about survival. I looked at the kid who was checking out the recorder.
“Was it a live feed?” I asked him.
“No,” he said. “No, looks like she was just recording. I’ll erase the video.”
He did so and threw the machine on the ground. A few hard stomps and the device was in pieces. We were breathed a collective sigh of relief. The news anchor got to her hands and knees, vomited her breakfast on the pavement, and struggled to crawl away from us. Her eyes were swollen shut under a stunned, red face. It wouldn’t do to have her crawl away, asking for help, so I rendered her unconscious with one good knock to the head. Guilt filled my gut when I saw her go down. She would probably have a concussion, but there was no time. The din of the crowd nearby reassured me she wouldn’t be lying here long. Someone would surely find her soon, and they would find us too if we didn’t move.
When I turned around, Jane was hugging the young, black guy. His hair was cut short and he wore scrubs like a nurse or doctor might. Jane’s face was full of happiness. She obviously knew him from somewhere and was glad to see him. Next came the woman. She began to cry as she collapsed into an embrace with Jane. Relief poured from her with every sob into Jane’s shoulder. The poodle thing pranced around her feet, wanting desperately to be held.
“My darling, my darling. My little Janie. Mama’s missed you so.”
Somethi
ng clicked in my brain. The Asian woman looked exactly like the woman I had seen on the TV. She was the one claiming Jane was her daughter. The others seemed just as skeptical and confused as I was.
“This is your mother?” asked the lawyer.
Over the woman’s shoulder, Jane shook her head ever so slightly. She hugged the woman tighter, despite the negative answer.
“Of course she is my daughter,” said the woman, pulling away from Jane. “I’ve been searching for her for years. Finally, you’ve come home, darling. I found your young man too. He was waiting at the courthouse, trying to see you.”
“Thank you both so much,” said Jane.
“Well, this is a touching reunion, but we’ve got to go,” said Dakota, looking around anxiously. “This won’t be the only plucky reporter trying to get the story.”
“She’s right. Let’s go,” said Elliot.
“We are coming too,” said the boy.
“Yes. We go where Janie goes,” said the woman.
“What is this? A fucking field trip?” asked Elliot.
They both looked silently resolute. The din a few blocks away got suddenly louder, and we all flinched, ready to bolt at any minute. Time was running out.
“Oh fine. I don’t have time for this. Follow me before we all get caught,” said Elliot.
These strangers were ready to follow Mansel as long as he was headed where Jane was going. I could understand this thinking for only one reason. I was ready to do the same thing. Something about this girl, this fragile little thing, inspired the truest form of people. For all of us, it was the call to protect. We were her knights in shining armor, her super heroes in flitty capes. There was no point arguing the fact. This motley band of strangers was bound together because for better or for worse; we were the good guys.
Chapter Three: Elliot
She may or may not have been a hooker. Her dress was high class enough to be a professional woman letting her hair down for the evening, or she could be a rather expensive call girl. The dress was green and slinky, and clung to those perfects breasts of hers for dear life, the way I wanted to. Her ass was narrower than I normal went for, but hey, I wasn’t picky.
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