For three days, Sydney meandered around the small town. She slept behind stores and ate during busy times when she was less noticeable. Even though she tried to not develop a pattern, in case They were trying to find her, she chose to sleep behind the same shopping center. It was a small strip of stores out of the major shopping sections. The town, Millville, was small but busy and had plenty of private businesses. The strip mall, located on Sydney Avenue, where she made her bed housed several small boutiques, a salon and an electronics repair shop. She felt safe there since it was near an affluent neighborhood. She slept on a piece of cardboard, huddled inside her heavy canvas jacket. And that was how Don found her on her fourth morning in the town.
As Sydney stared up at the old man she could feel her heart stop beating. Oh, god. He’s going to call the cops. “I-I’m sorry,” she sputtered. “I’ll go.”
“I was thinking coffee sounds like a better idea, no? It is getting cold. It will warm you up.”
The old man had a thick accent that Sydney couldn’t place. “What?” she asked him.
“Instead of running you should come in for coffee.”
“I-I can’t. I have to go.” He’s trying to stall me until the cops get here.
“You have been here for three nights. Where do you have to go?”
That caused Syd to pause. He apparently knows I've been staying here. Her confusion must have been obvious because the man spoke again.
“If I wanted to call the police or hurt you, I would have already. You come inside and get warm.” Without waiting for her to respond he turned towards the back door of his shop and went inside.
Chapter Nineteen
Sydney followed Don inside the small shop and into a back room full of metal shelves stacked high with machines in various stages of repair. It looked like an electronics slaughterhouse. She wasn’t entirely sure why she followed him inside. Maybe it was the frosty morning, the rumbling in her stomach, or, maybe it was the sheer loneliness of a life of wandering the streets. Whatever the reason, Sydney lingered near the door while Don shuffled his way deeper into the shop.
Being inside the clean, albeit cluttered, shop made Sydney realize how dirty she was. She could feel her hair matted to her scalp and grimaced at the fuzzy feel of her teeth. She had washed up the best she could in public restrooms, but what she could wash there was limited. She pulled the soiled coat tighter around herself. The man’s voice jerked her out of her self-examination.
“The coffee is ready. I do not know how you like it, but there is sugar and milk if you need it.”
Sydney hesitated before following the man through the doorway. On the other side she was surprised to see a small kitchenette complete with a large sink, fridge, microwave and coffee pot that was wafting the delicious smell of coffee. In the six days she had been alive—as she had come to think of it—she had not tried coffee. She had smelled plenty of it. But it had always been the hurried, paranoid times she was quickly buying a cheap breakfast and had been too distracted to appreciate its earthy, warm scent.
She wrapped her hands around the cup, almost too hot to hold, and avoided the old man’s eyes. The heat radiated into her from the mug and soothed the cold stiffness of her fingers. She cautiously sipped at the liquid but it still scalded her tongue. The burn of the sip was quickly replaced by the bitter taste of the liquid. The old man must have seen the look on her face because he chuckled.
“I think you like it with milk, no? Maybe some sugar too?” He pushed the carton of milk and a canister of sugar towards her.
Sydney poured enough milk in her coffee to turn it from black to a pale beige and sloshed an obscene amount of sugar in after it. She stirred her mug with a spoon and tried another sip. This time the coffee seemed to melt on her tongue and she sighed in contentment. Delicious. When he looked up, the old man was watching her carefully. He was slightly stooped with age, but he was still taller than she was. His hair, of which he had a surprising amount, was a mixture of deep gray and white. When he smiled at her, his rheumy brown eyes wrinkled pleasantly.
“This is better, see?”
She smiled and nodded. “Thank you. I won’t bother you anymore. After this, I’ll get lost.”
“Why would you do that?” he glanced back at her as he cleaned put away the milk and sugar. Sydney didn’t know how to answer, so instead she said nothing. “Have a seat,” the man waved her towards a stool on the other side of the counter. “I have some donuts too. If you like them. They are the powdery kind,” he smiled, laying a package of tiny white donuts in front of her.
Sydney had been lucky enough to have the fifty bucks the farm worker had given her, but she knew that it wasn’t going to last long. Therefore, she had been careful to use as little of it as possible. She had limited herself to one meal a day and her stomach rumbled painfully at the sight of the sugary pastries.
“Go on,” he man smiled at her.
“Thank you,” she whispered before ripping into the package. She shoved a whole donut into her mouth and chewed. As she sighed with pleasure a small poof of powdered sugar wafted from her lips.
The old man chuckled again. “You eat like my son.” At her wary look he held up a hand. “He is not here. He died. A long time ago.”
“Oh,” Sydney muttered around the remains of the donut in her mouth.
“It is ok. Like I said, a long time ago. In the war.”
Which war? Sydney wondered.
“So,” he old man looked at her. “I ask again. Where are you going to go?” Not having an answer, Sydney looked away. “Can I ask, what happened to your face?” Don nodded towards the fading bruises around her eyes and nose. Again, she didn’t have a good answer so she said nothing. “That is OK,” he nodded finally. “You do not have to tell me. But you aren’t going back are you? To whoever did that?”
“No.” Sydney knew it was wrong to let him think it was a boyfriend, or father, who hurt her. But, hell, maybe it was for all she knew.
“You can stay here.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. I have a cot you can sleep on. I have stayed here before. When the roads are too bad to get home. You stay,” he smiled at her.
Sydney debated her options. Where else was she going to go? Her money was going to run out quick. And it was getting colder by the day. “I-I can clean or something? Help around the shop. Earn my keep.”
“Good. I can use an extra set of hands. And do not worry. Where I am from...I have had to hide refugees before. Whatever your secret it. It is safe with me.”
***
“And you lived there, in the shop, for the whole month?” Xander asked her.
“Give or take a day or two—but yeah. The guy’s name was Don. He was a great old man.”
“Was?”
“...yeah.”
“What happened?”
Sydney sighed. She could feel Xander glance over at her but she didn’t return the look. Instead, she watch the fields next to the highway as they swept past. “Working with Don was how I figured out I was good with computers. Don was amazing at computers, which was pretty surprising for someone his age.” Sydney decided if she was going to tell the whole story, she should tell it in order. “He was from some Eastern European country. I didn’t ask where and he didn’t pry too much into my life. Eventually, though, I broke down and told him about my memory problems. Unfortunately, he got curious. Started searching for articles about missing people online. I didn’t realize what he was doing.”
Her stomach soured. “Don was great. He was what I imagine a grandfather would be like. He was kind. Brought me clothes and food. Way more than I earned cleaning up and helping out around the shop. He said they were left by his daughter when she moved to California with her husband. I don’t know. They fit awfully perfectly though,” Sydney smiled.
She didn’t realize she had gone silent, remembering the kind old man, until Xander’s voice startled her. “What happened?” he asked again.
&
nbsp; She took a deep breath. “Sometimes I ran errands for Don. Once my face healed and I had clothes that fit, no one paid any attention to me. I didn’t have a driver’s license that I knew of, but, turns out, I did know how to drive. So, I borrowed Don’s car. We figured if I got pulled over for some reason I would just tell them I lost my driver’s license. It was risky, but in such a small town we didn’t think we had too much to worry about. I went out to drop off a printer we had fixed, and when I got back…”
Sydney took another deep breath—this one shuddered and felt thin. “When I got back...I found Don. He was in the back of the shop. Dead.”
“Shit. But how do you know it wasn’t just a robbery?”
“Nothing was missing. The place was exactly the same as when I left. Plus, robbers don’t usually cut people’s head off.”
“What?”
“Yeah. He was beheaded. And the cut was clean, one swipe. And his head was gone.”
“Fuck…”
“Right. So—and I’m not proud of this—I took what cash he had in the safe. More clues it wasn’t burglars. The safe was open and there was a lot of cash there. About a thousand dollars. Don didn’t trust banks. So he dealt in cash. All of it was there. I just took it and ran. And the rest, as they say, is history. Shay took me in. I work for her. Against my better judgment, I made friends. And now their—your—lives are at risk, because of me.”
Chapter Twenty
Xander and Sydney were quiet for a while, both of them processing her story. The sun was starting to set and Syd watched the sky shrink into darkness. She couldn’t believe how things had turned out. Yesterday she had been prepared to run. To leave everything she had found to be comforting and safe for the hope that her friends would be OK once she was gone. But, that plan was shot to hell now. She glanced at Xander and was, again, surprised by how calm he seemed. He had killed a man twenty-four hours ago and now he was driving off to Vegas with someone he barely knew. A someone that had an insane story.
Trying to be inconspicuous Sydney kept watching him. His eyes were narrowed in concentration but his jaw was relaxed and his left hand was wrapped over the steering wheel casually. When the corner of his mouth quirked she realized that he knew she was watching him. Feeling stupid, she turned away. “So,” she began. “What’s your story?”
“Meaning?” He glanced towards her, the sunset reflecting off his sunglasses.
“You told me you were adopted by Shay’s family. But what about after that?”
His mouth stretched into a half smile. “You mean Shay didn’t tell you all about me?”
“Not really. Why would she?”
Xander suppressed a smile. “You never know,” he said mysteriously. “She’s an open book. But, I just...have stuff I don’t advertise.”
“Like jail?”
“Ah, so Shay did talk then?”
“Well...she hinted. But didn’t tell the whole story.”
“And you didn’t ask?” he smirked again.
“I make a habit of not asking questions. It discourages people from asking me questions.”
“I see.” Xander rubbed his chin. “Yeah. I did some time,” he said soberly.
Sydney hesitated to ask more. “For what?”
Before he could answer, and he was taking a long time to speak, Sydney’s phone rang. She jumped before realizing what the sound was and dug through her purse for her phone. When she found it she saw that it was Shay and groaned.
“Who is it?” Xander asked.
“Shay,” she sighed. She pushed the button to answer and held the phone to her ear for a moment trying to decide what to say. “Hello.”
“Hi!” Shay’s voice was shrill with excitement and curiosity.
“Hi,” Sydney responded.
“Oh shut up! Spill the beans! Where are you? Are you still at Xander’s? What are you guys doing? Wait! Not too many details though. He’s my brother,” she giggled, finally taking a breath.
Syd couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Nothing is happening.” Apparently, Shay had been yelling loud enough for Xander to hear her because he gave Sydney a quick annoyed glance that she ignored.
“Yeah, right!” Shay snorted. “My brother doesn’t do ‘nothing.’”
“I don’t even want to know what that means.”
“Well are you guys still at his place?”
“No,”
“Where are you?”
Sydney hesitated and finally decided to go with a half-truth. “We’re taking a bit of a road trip. Sorry to leave you in bad spot with covering the store.”
“Oh. My. God! First, don’t apologize. Zak is helping so I’m fine. Two, road trip?! As in you two stuck in the truck for hours? Hotel rooms?! Nothing my ass!”
Sydney rolled her eyes and ignored Xander’s grinning. “He’s just helping me out with something.”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“Shut up,” Sydney clenched her teeth to stop from smiling at Shay’s teasing. “Listen. Seriously though. I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” Shay responded going still at the heavy tone of Sydney’s voice.
“If anyone comes looking for me...tell them the truth. That I left town for a trip. OK?”
Shay was quiet for a minute. “OK...but who would be looking for you?” She wasn’t one to pry, but she was human. Everyone had their limits.
“I-I’m not sure.”
“The police?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Dangerous people?”
“Yes.”
“Why the hell would I tell them what you were doing then?”
“To protect yourself.”
“That’s bullshit. I’m not putting you—and my brother—in danger just to save my own skin.”
“I’m serious, Shay! We will be fine. But just stay out of my mess as much as you can. Just tell them the truth. I ran off with your brother and you don’t know where or when I’ll be back.”
“What is your mess? And when will you be back?”
“I’ll explain everything as soon as I can. Just please, do as I ask. And I really don’t know when I’ll be back. I’m so sorry to drag you and your family into this,” she glanced at Xander and he just rolled his eyes at her, dismissing her apology.
“You’d better tell me everything. And soon.”
“I will. I promise.”
“OK,” Shay sighed. “I love you guys.”
“We love you too,” Sydney croaked around a tight throat. She hung up the phone and returned it to her purse. She kept her eyes wide, determined not to cry. When Xander’s hand folded around hers she returned the grip against her better judgment. The rough, warmness of his fingers entwined with hers offered comfort and did wonders for easing her guilt.
Abruptly, Xander let go over her hand. “Give me your phone,” he said.
“Why?” she asked hesitantly handing it over.
He rolled the window down and tossed her phone out into the night. She stared at him with her mouth hanging open. “They might be able to track you through your phone.”
“How? It’s a pre-paid phone!”
“You just talked to Shay. They could be watching her phone.”
“Shit. What about your phone though.”
“I only have the one with me. And I’ve never called or texted Shay on it.”
“Oh.”
“So…” Xander glanced at her.
“What?
“What are we going to do once we get to Vegas?”
Sydney realized he was procrastinating telling her about his time in jail, but she let him have his reprieve. He deserved it. “Find Pandaren87. See what he knows. See if we can piece some of this together.”
“None of the others seem to have memory loss, right?”
“As far as I know.”
“I wonder why you are different.”
Syd sighed. “If I even am. There could be others with no memory and we just don’t know about it.”
“Hell if I know.”
“Why do you think someone would do this to you, and the others?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we have to figure out what we all have in common.”
“Are you going to try to get Pandaren to bring others in?”
“Not right away, that’s for sure.” Xander nodded in agreement. “Right now I want to keep thing as simple and easy to control as possible. I’m still not sure this isn’t some kind of trap,” she looked at him pointedly.
“I know,” he nodded.
Syd hoped he truly realized what he was getting into. It was bad enough she had involved him this much. The only reason she could pull up her big girl panties and let him come along for the ride was because it was as if he had already jumped out of the plane when he killed Short Man. There didn’t seem to be any going back, no matter how much she wanted him to try.
A few silent hours later, Sydney felt herself nodding off, her head wobbling comically. She jerked awake and looked to Xander to see if he noticed. She doubted he did considering he was rubbing at his eyes and opening them wide and blinking hard. “Are you OK?” she croaked.
“Ah, just getting tired. How about you?”
“I’m exhausted, but I’ve had more sleep than you.”
“But are you OK to drive?”
“Sure,” she yawned and sat straighter in the seat.
“Yeah, right,” Xander snorted. “There’s a rest stop coming up. Let’s pull over there and sleep a few hours.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” she muttered stifling another yawn.
They pulled into the darkened rest area and she climbed out of the truck, groaning as she stretched. It was colder than she expected. “Where are we?” she asked, shivering.
“Somewhere in Colorado. I’ve kind of been on autopilot for a while.”
She shook her head, “It’s a good thing we pulled over then.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to go pee.”
“Me too. Want a snack?”
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