by Haus, Jean
He tries to push himself up. When he realizes he’s too weak he falls back against the pillows. “Nivi, you need to leave.”
Ignoring his words, I grab the remote from the stand next to his bed. “How about some T.V.?”
“Just go,” he tries to shout but it comes out more of a groan.
I flip through channels. “News? A talk show? That’s about all you’re going to get at this hour in the morning.”
“Nivi,” he hisses while I continue flipping through channels. I watch the news while he fights to keep his angry gaze on me. Soon drowsiness takes over and he’s sleeping.
Though exhausted, I stay up as promised until the sun rises and fills the room with light. I keep my head empty of worries just sit and wait. Once the room is bright, I nudge Ping awake, tell him to keep watch then fall asleep immediately.
After a few hours of sleep—surprisingly no one has told us to leave the room—Ping and I head to the cafeteria. Jai was served breakfast in bed but is sleeping again. Chang’s keeping an eye on him and we’re bringing butthead number two’s breakfast up. On the way to a table, I spot a discarded New York Times and USA Today. I snag the Times. While I flip through it, Ping wolfs down eggs, sausage, and toast. Though I feel like tired old crap, I force myself to eat some cereal as I skim through the paper. When my eyes catch the heading—I truly didn’t think it would be there—my spoon drops to the table with a clang.
“Hey, watch what you’re doing,” Ping says, wiping milk off his arm.
“Sorry,” I say with my focus on the black print before me. The title says, “Former Stock Car Racer’s Body Found in Dumpster.”
My knee shakes as I read the article.
A 67-year-old man whose body was found yesterday in a dumpster off Canal St. in Chinatown died from a gunshot wound to his head, the police said last night.
They say he had been murdered, although the circumstances and motive are unclear. The police identified the man as Thomas Harrison.
Local workers dumping trash at about ten yesterday found his body. There have been no arrests, and the case remained under investigation last night.
Harrison was once a professional stock car driver of medium fame in the late seventies. At the time of his death, he worked as a private chauffeur.
Though under investigation, the police say they have no leads at this time.
The edge of the paper crumples in my hand. How had she moved the body so fast? How had she known? She always seems to be one-step behind us. How is she doing it? My grip loosens and the paper flutters to the floor. The chair scrapes the tile as I stand up. “I’m going to get Jai’s prescription then we need to go.”
That article has me scared Smith or the Tong or even Mali will show up any second. Ping nods and keeps stuffing in food. Instead of going straight to the pharmacy, I head outside. Their constant shadow has to be the GPS. I rip the thing from the top of the dashboard then search for the perfect spot in the parking lot. A truck is parked two spaces away. I’m not sure if they can trace the machine without being on, but I dump it in the truck’s flatbed just in case.
Jai’s prescriptions cost over a hundred dollars for a week’s worth of pills. Money is getting low. I have a little over four hundred left. Yet money is the last thing on my mind. After reading that article, I want to leave and I want to leave now.
I pester the nurses, while Ping and Chang watch TV, to make sure Jai doesn’t need to stay for medical reasons. By mid-afternoon, the issue of his release keeps us at the hospital. I decide to take matters into my own hands. Getting past the nurses’ station, then out of the building before they notice are two major issues, but making Jai walk has me the most worried. However, once I run the idea past him, he’s all for my plan, which also has me scared because he’s so doped up.
Dead boys tell no tales. Mali’s words ring in my head.
We have to go.
The butt head brothers get our stuff from the car. After the nurse checks in, Jai rips the IV from his arm and Ping helps him get dressed. He wears a baseball cap, jeans, and my yellow tinted glasses—thankfully, the sun is out today—to hide some of his bruises. I dress as Mrs. Lee again. A few minutes after Ping leaves, I poke my head into the hallway. All clear except for the pound of my heart. I ignore it.
Jai walks with a slight limp. We pass the nurses’ station undetected and wait for the elevator in less than two minutes. I wrap an arm around his waist when he begins to wobble. Inside, he leans against the wall. I keep close in case his leg can’t handle his weight and watch the digital numbers indicating we’re going down. At the third floor, the door opens and I almost scream.
Smith stands outside waiting.
Instinctively, copying Jai’s trick at the restaurant, I whip myself over and place my open mouth on his lips. After the first frozen second, his hands clench my waist and he kisses me back. What the? Thunder roars in my ears. Firm lips slant across mine. He deepens the kiss and my heart threatens to pound out of my chest. I blame the sensation on fear, but I know it’s a mix of fear and the kiss. His hand caresses the small of my back and my spine turns into jelly. Somehow, I manage to pull an inch away and say in a sultry tone, “Mmm, I can’t wait to get home.” I trace a red nail along his jaw line while hoping Smith doesn’t recognize my voice. With it deep and breathless, it’s a definite possibility.
His other hand wraps around me and he pulls me back near his lips. “Car’s backseat folds down,” he says with a laugh. I giggle and pretend to nip his ear so he can observe Smith, and so I can catch my breath. His lips trail the side of my neck. “Let’s steam up them windows.” I let out a ragged breath and giggle again. I’m floating on a strange, twisted plane of fear and desire.
The elevator stops.
Jai kisses the spot where shoulder meets neck with a suck.
Whoa. Jelly liquefied.
The doors open.
His lips slowly let go of my skin. “He’s gone.”
Gasping for several reasons, I stumble back. “How did he find us so fast?” My hands claw the side of the elevator and I answer my own question. “That GPS,” I snap to myself.
He grips my elbow. “We’ve got to move.”
Funny—not really— he’s injured and has to lead me out.
As we pass the receptionist’s desk, we can hear Smith complaining about sending him to the wrong room. I’m still in a fear and kissed induced fog, but Jai’s pushing me faster toward the entrance. Inches from the door, a voice shouts out, “Hey, we haven’t released him.”
All eyes in the lobby turn toward us, including Smith’s.
Shit.
The nurse waves papers. “Hold it right there.”
I freeze.
Smith springs away from the desk.
Jai tugs on my coat and we rush through the open glass doors.
Outside, the cold air snaps me out of shock. We sprint to the waiting car and jump inside. Luckily, Jai’s moving like he’s not even hurt. Thank you painkillers. I pull away just as Smith gets to the curb. Smiling, I wave good-bye to him with my middle finger.
Chapter 36~Snow
I run and run. The snow under my feet is the only illumination in the darkness, the crunch of ice crystals, the only sound. No matter how fast I run, she’s always behind me. I can’t see her, but I can feel her presence. Tendrils of evil stretching towards me, creating rivers of ice down my back. My feet slide. The snow below has become ice as slick as a mirror. Stumbling, I glance below and a scream tears out of my lungs. My reflection has become hers.
“Nivi!” Tap. Tap. Tap. “Nivi!”
I jolt forward at the sound of Ping’s voice and smash into the steering wheel. Snow covers the windshield. I let go of a deep breath. Sleeping, I’ve been sleeping. After six hours of driving in a snowstorm, I needed rest or toothpicks to prop my eyes open to keep going.
I lift a hand and wave Ping away.
Sleep, eat, drive.
I don’t know how long I can handle this routine, but the soon
er we are on the road, the better. Going thirty miles an hour or less in four-wheel drive hasn’t put much distance between Smith and us. And I want to be as far from him as possible.
Another tap and Ping’s face—one black eye and one normal one—is smashed against the frosty window. I hit unlock.
He opens the door a crack. “It’s been an hour.”
I rub my face to remove the dream. The icy air helps wake me, helps the dream dissipate. Ping opens the door wider. “We ordered you a Coke and a cheeseburger.”
I throw the coats—mine and Jai’s—off me. Snowflakes cover me as I step out. The snowstorm still hasn’t let up. Chang waves from the icy diner window. Jai’s head rests against the glass, which is good. I’ve had a hard time meeting his gaze since that kiss and my reaction to it. Drugged up, I’m not sure he wasn’t acting, but I’m quite sure I wasn’t.
I walk toward the diner and glimpse my reflection in the glass. The end of the dream hits me again. Her face pictured in the ice. A chill travels my spine. I try to shake it off along with the snowflakes on my shoulders as we step inside. I can’t forget the fear. Ping leads me to the booth while the thought, I had been her, echoes in my brain. I tell myself, it was just a dream. But the tingle of terror remains, reminding me we need to get moving. Soon.
Chang points at me. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, you’ve got a bed head. It’s totally flat in back.”
Ignoring him and the state of my hair, I slide into the booth in front of the burger and fries and next to Jai’s foot. With his leg stretched out, I’m sitting on the edge. I’m not about to ask him to move. He watches me chug Coke with half-opened eyes. His stare is unguarded and full of something I’ve never seen before. Something like longing. Confused by his dark gaze, I have to look away. Across the table, Ping sits next to Chang. A piece of apple pie waits for him. Done eating they’ve ordered dessert. Except for Jai, he has coffee.
Jai pushes the ketchup bottle at me. Luckily for my tired brain, his gaze looks normal again. “Chang forgot to substitute the fries for a salad.”
I shrug. Although I attempt to temper my junk food habit with something green, my dream leaves me indifferent. I squirt a blob of ketchup on my plate and pop a fry in my mouth. The fry perks me up a bit. Diner fries are the best.
Chang loudly slurps chocolate malt off his spoon. I wrinkle my nose at him and reach for my burger. He laughs. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the car.”
Jai sits up and adjusts his leg. “I think we need to split up.”
“Okay,” Chang cries, slapping his spoon down. The people in booths surrounding us stare. “I’ll stop slurping.”
“Stop yelling,” I hiss. “He’s kidding.”
Once the people turn around Jai says, “I’m not kidding.” He leans forward while Ping and Chang stare at him with wide eyes. “We’re,” he glances at me, “just putting you two in danger. You two could hole up somewhere.”
Ping points a fork covered in whip cream. “Yeah, but you’re hurt.”
“So you shouldn’t be safe?” Jai takes a sip of coffee.
I drop a fry in the pool of ketchup. Jai’s taken my attention away from the fries. “He’s right. If we get caught, they’re not going to keep looking for you.” Ping raises an eyebrow, but keeps shoveling in pie. “Too bad,” I say, thinking aloud and wincing at their bruised faces. “You two can’t go back to New York and find something more on Mali because the way things are going we’re just running.” I take a bite of my burger. Slightly greasy and totally good.
Jai leans back again. “Maybe they can. Feng Lu could help.”
Chang drops his spoon again. His eyes shift from me to Jai. “You’re serious.”
“I am,” Jai says. “Things have probably cooled down back in New York, besides you don’t have to stay in Chinatown.”
Ping thrusts his empty plate away. “How would we get back?”
“What’s the next major city?” Jai asks me.
The burger pauses in mid-air while I think. “Pittsburg.”
Jai leans his head against the glass. “They should have a bus station.”
Ping and Chang gape at me. “I think it’s a good idea,” I say before taking another bite. Jai nods. “If there’s no bus out tonight,” he says, “we’ll find somewhere to stay and you two can leave in the morning.”
Ping and Chang just stare at us with wide eyes.
A lump of cheeseburger sticks in my throat. I don’t want to stop. I want to drive forever. Stopping usually means trouble. We need somewhere safe to hide for a couple of days at least, so Jai’s leg can heal. Somewhere remote. The perfect place pops in my head. A place I promised myself I’d never return. Yet this place is so perfect and that decision had been made before I was running for my life. I finish my burger in contemplation. The cabin should be less than three hours from Pittsburg. It really is the perfect place to hide.
As I swallow the last bite, the waitress drops off the bill.
I lift my drink. “Could I get another one of these to go?”
Chapter 37~Snow
“Why are you stopping here?” Jai asks. His eyes are heavy lidded, his speech slow.
We’d spent the night in a rat hole in Pittsburg. Each of us including Jai—he refused our pleas for him just to sleep—took a watch shift. Although sirens, yelling, and bumps sounded through the night, the snowstorm must have been our lucky charm because nothing happened. Chang and Ping caught a six a.m. bus back to New York. Jai and I took off as soon as the bus pulled away. We’re almost to the cabin, but driving by several signs advertising antiques, I recall the pictures of Mali’s mirrors in his phone that I took at the apartment.
“Mali collects antiques, antique mirrors to be precise. I want to know more about her collection.” Though the small historical downtown is lined with antique shops, I parked in front of the largest one. The store hours read in the window: open daily 9-3. The clock reads 8:57. “Is it okay? You can wait in the car.”
“No, I’ll go with you, but how this will be helpful is beyond me.” He rubs his face. “I can sleep later while you drive.”
We’ll be at the cabin within the hour, but I don’t argue. I hand him the sunglasses for his bruised face and I wait at the curb for him. After offering to help once, I’m aware treating him like an invalid annoys him. Jai plods across the sidewalk. It takes him the three minutes until opening to get around the car. The air stings my cheeks while I wait. Now in the mountains of West Virginia, the temperature is even colder. Looking around the small town—antique itself—while I wait for Jai a faint memory stirs within in me. I think my mother and I took a day trip here once. The taste of mint ice cream, the shimmer of the sun, and the smell of dusty furniture hover in my mind until I push the memory out. I really don’t have time to be sucked in that depressing hole at the moment.
The bell above the door chimes as we walk into the warmth. The smell of old and musty hits my nose right away. Before us lies a maze of furniture, shelves, and knickknacks. An old man with gray hair slicked back comes around the counter.
“Good morning,” he says while his narrowed eyes shift from me to Jai. “How can I help you?”
I smile invitingly. “We’re looking for antique mirrors.” I would prefer just to show him the pictures. I just can’t be sure he’ll help without an incentive. I’ll have to do a little shopping first. “My stepmother collects them and her birthday is next month.” Right, like I’d ever buy Mali a gift. Even before she tried to kill me, presents were out of the question.
The suspicion disappears from his features. “Do you know what she collects in particular?”
I shake my head. “I think anything over seventy years old will do. She has mirrors in all sizes and shapes.” I point to the Mercedes parked outside and say, “As long as it will fit in the back of the car.”
Seeing the car, a gleam enters his eye. Luckily, the dented driver’s door, cracked glass and smashed headlight are on the other side. “Hmmm…I have several that may work. Ple
ase follow me.”
As he slowly leads us through rows of dusty furniture, Jai’s brow raises in question over the rim of the glasses. I lift my hands, communicating for him to wait. He scowls. I scowl back. The old antique dealer stops and we almost run into him.
“Ah, here’s one. Edwardian style, which would be from the early twentieth century,” he says with pride.
I wonder if he was alive or something then. Jai and I stare at the mirror in fake contemplation. Edged with dark wood, the mirror hangs on the back of a shelf.
“It’s kind of plain,” I say. “However, I don’t know about these things.”
Jai helps by saying, “She does like them fancy.”
He sounds brainless—them fancy—but like the idiot boyfriend he’s probably assumed to be. I nod in agreement. “Do you have any with a bit more… bling?”
Moving at a turtle’s pace, the owner shows us several more mirrors. I find something disagreeable with each of them, but continue to pretend to shop. The last mirror he shows us is a Baroque—that’s what he tells us anyway—with gold leaves and carvings coming off its sides like vomit. The price tag dangling from the bottom says thirteen thousand dollars.
“Oh, I think she’d like that,” I say and step back pretending to study the ugly thing. “I’m not sure. Maybe you could look at some pictures,” I hold up my phone, “and tell me what they are to help me decide.”
Although the screen is under his nose, he says, “Those pictures are too small for my old eyes.” Damn. I’ve just wasted half an hour for nothing. The antique dealer adjusts his glasses. “Maybe you could send them to my computer up front.”
I grin. Thirteen thousand dollars is quite an incentive. “Of course, what’s your email?” He tells me his email and walking back to the front desk, I send the pictures. Jai and I wait on the other side of the counter while he takes forever to upload the pictures.