“There it is,” Aaron announced softly.
From their position atop a slight incline, the town of New Lake spread out in front of them. Paved streets lined with little white houses branched out into a maze of exact duplication. They looked at each other and smiled before making their way down into the town.
“How do people know which house is theirs?” Nick glanced from one side of the street to the other as they weaved toward the thundering whoosh of a train.
Aaron pointed to one of the front porches with three steps leading up to the door and a little overhang like every other porch. “They have numbers.”
The little black numerals nailed above doors counted up as she passed—1021, 1022, 1023, 1024. They turned the corner—932, 933, 934. A train rumbled by in little flashes of brown and red between houses.
They came out onto the town’s main street running parallel to the railroad tracks. Two women left a building, labeled Market, with baskets over their arms. A man entered the hardware building and two young girls looked into the window of a dress shop. The cold, quiet train tracks beckoned from across the street and behind a chain-link fence.
Nick looked at the fence and sighed. “Now what?”
Lareina ignored him and continued walking down the street, past a bakery, a flower shop, a bank, and a restaurant until she spotted what she wanted—a one-story building with wood paneling for the front that displayed train departure times in the window. She pulled the door open and walked inside. Nick and Aaron caught up to her as she observed a sleepy-looking man sitting behind the counter.
“Well, I didn’t expect anyone to come in on a miserable, gray day like today,” he grumbled.
Stepping forward, she ignored the negative tone of his voice, and clasped her hands on the counter. “We’d like to buy three tickets to Dallas.”
“Would you now?” The man leaned back in his chair. “It’s always amusing how pretty little girls think they can just get whatever they want handed to them.”
Her hands clenched into fists.
“Hey, how about showing a little respect to your customers.” Aaron stepped forward and stood protectively beside her.
Nick stood at her other elbow.
The man yawned. “I can be respectful, but it won’t help you a bit. We only run one passenger train to Dallas per week, and they’re all booked until December.”
“That can’t be right.” She barely recognized her own faltering voice. They could walk the fifty miles to Dallas in three days if they could avoid the rain, getting lost, and potential setbacks. She wouldn’t wait two months for a train.
“There has to be something else,” Nick demanded. “It’s urgent that we get to Dallas.”
The man chuckled, a greedy, excited laugh. “I’m not entirely unreasonable. I could sneak you into a cargo car, but it’ll cost you.”
“How much?” Aaron asked.
Lareina didn’t want to make a deal with this man. She wanted to walk out, climb the fence, and sneak onto a waiting train from the other side of the tracks. After almost two months of trying, she still couldn’t convince Nick that survival meant breaking the rules, and the best solutions rarely involved spending money or making deals.
“Forty dollars for three tickets.”
“Forty dollars?” Nick’s voice sounded far away.
“If you don’t have enough money, perhaps you have something to trade?” The man’s eyes glanced at each one of them, examining their faces for signs that they held anything of value.
Nick and Aaron shrugged, knowing they had nothing, but they were forgetting about one important asset. An image of Galloway hovered through Lareina’s mind: his cold eyes and shrewd expression. I’ll find you. Wherever you go, I’ll always find you. They were lucky he hadn’t found them again, but the more time they spent walking, the better chance they gave him. Trading with the ticket booth manager would mean wounded pride, but it would only last for a few hours. Being caught by Galloway would be the end of her freedom, possibly forever.
She reached into her bag, slipping her hand under the food and clothes until she felt cool metal—the gun that could protect her, that could save her, that could be worth trading to get to Dallas. “Would you trade for a gun?”
The man smiled and touched all of his fingertips together on top of the counter. “Depends what it looks like.”
She didn’t glance at Nick or Aaron, but took a step forward, slid the gun out of her bag, emptied the magazine, and placed it on the counter. The ticket booth manager picked it up, turned it over in his hands, and nodded.
“Very nice. If you’re willing to leave it behind, I’ll get the three of you on a train.”
Her shoulders sagged as she glanced at her travel companions. Nick nodded and Aaron linked his hands behind his back.
“It’s a deal.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “When do we leave?”
“A cargo train will stop here for loading at seven this evening. I need all of you to be here by six. Until then, enjoy New Lake. There’s a nice coffee shop down the street.”
Would the man be there at six? Would there be a train at seven? She didn’t know if she could trust him, but what other choice did she have? With her eyes on her shoes, she walked through the door and around the building, where she sank to the ground. Her bag felt light and empty as she looked out at desolate railroad tracks. Then Nick and Aaron were there, pulling her to her feet and down the sidewalk with them.
“Thanks, Rochelle,” Nick said. “I know that was a tough trade, but I’m so relieved we don’t have to walk in the rain anymore.”
She nodded, but thoughts of Galloway haunted her as they entered the coffee shop, ordered hot chocolate with their last few dollars, and ate parts of the lunches Cornelia had packed. The shop was warm and quiet with tables that stood so high off the floor even Aaron’s feet dangled above the ground. A fireplace lit one corner, surrounded by chairs covered in blue fabric and shelves of books. On any normal day, Lareina would have gravitated to that corner, but it didn’t give her a good angle to view the door, and she imagined Galloway sneaking in before she had time to escape. Trapped. She would be trapped, but so would Nick and Aaron. Not because they’d done anything to deserve it, but because they were with her. She had implicated them in a dangerous situation, just as Susan had done to her.
“Rochelle, are you okay?” Aaron sat across the table from her, but she barely noticed him. “Don’t you want some of your hot chocolate?”
She took a sip from the large blue mug. “I’m just tired.”
It had to end. She had to separate herself from Nick and Aaron before Galloway killed one of them. Too often she thought of Nick’s narrow escape from Galloway and imagined him bleeding out on the ground like Susan. They wouldn’t be so lucky the next time and she knew there would be a next time. Nick and Aaron didn’t deserve to die because they chose the wrong travel companion. Protecting the pendant was her responsibility, and as much as she yearned to remain a part of this group, the pendant sentenced her to a life of isolation.
Nick looked up from the notecard in his hand, eyes bright. “It seems too good to be true. This time we’re actually going to Dallas. I’m going to see Ava again.”
Nothing had been easy since Susan told her about the pendant, and she couldn’t believe that after months of struggles everything would suddenly work in her favor. Galloway had to be lurking around New Lake. Over and over she surveyed the coffee shop and every face of every customer. He could be on the train. He could be waiting in Dallas, or on the other end of the phone with the ticket booth manager. Aaron’s eyes met hers and his eyebrows slid toward his forehead.
“Can you stop worrying so much?” Aaron leaned back in his chair. “We made it. We’re going to Dallas and everything will be great.”
“Of course it will.” She smiled and tossed her untouched sandwich back into her bag. “I’m going for a walk. Sitting still is just making me nervous.”
Nick jumped up. “Ca
n I come with you?”
“Do whatever you want.”
They left Aaron at the coffee shop and walked through a maze of streets in the foggy afternoon. For a long time, neither of them spoke, and Lareina distracted herself by looking for slight differences among the identical houses. One had chipped paint around the windows. One had a window box, ready for summer flowers. One had a blue rock on the front porch.
“Rochelle, do you think Ava will be happy to see me?” Nick’s voice sounded so small in the quiet street.
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“Because I haven’t seen her for two years. What if she doesn’t even recognize me?”
“Then you’ll either take the time to catch up or you’ll move on.”
He stopped walking. “Move on to what?”
Linking her arm through his, she pulled him along beside her. “To whatever comes next. Don’t worry about it right now. I’m sure she’ll be flattered when she hears about all you’ve been through to find her.”
Verbalizing her own fears didn’t come so easily. Once again they walked in silence. Back at the coffee shop, they waited with Aaron for the hands of the clock to divide its face in half. Then they returned to the oppressive little ticket sales building.
“Sit on this bench and don’t look suspicious,” the ticket booth manager ordered. “When the car is loaded and the loaders are all busy with the next one, I’ll signal. You’ll all get in the car. The door will stay open, so stay hidden in the back and don’t let anyone see you or I’ll lose my job over this.”
The three of them sat and silently watched men dressed in brown pants and blue shirts carry and cart boxes into each boxcar. She kept her eyes on the end of the train. Soon, no one swarmed in or out and the loading process moved away from them. The ticket booth manager stepped out of the shadows and waved.
“There he is.” She looked up and down the loading dock, but there was no one there to see them. “Let’s go.”
They scrambled across the open area and snuck into their designated freight car. Large containers piled with glass bottles and scraps of metal surrounded them.
“Over here,” Aaron whispered.
Lareina and Nick followed his voice deeper into thick darkness. Between a stack of boxes and the wall of the car remained a gap big enough for three people to squeeze into.
“Perfect.” She slid into the gap and sat down next to Aaron. Her shoulder pressed against his and her knees brushed her chin.
Nick sank down beside her. “Now what?”
“Now we wait,” Aaron whispered.
Raindrops drummed above, voices shouted outside, and Lareina’s foot fell asleep. The train didn’t move.
“Why do we have to be in here with all of the trash?” Nick tried to stretch his legs, but his toes caught on the box in front of him before his feet slid two inches.
Aaron leaned forward so he could see Nick. “Because they aren’t worried about anyone robbing this car, which means they won’t pay any attention to it.”
A gust of wind gently lurched the train from side to side. Rain pounded harder against the roof. Still, they didn’t move.
“At least we’re out of the rain.” She put her backpack on her knees and rested her forehead against it.
Nick squirmed and folded his legs under him. “I bet it’s really cold out there.”
“Freezing, but there’s room to move out there,” Aaron grumbled.
The train groaned and lurched, shifting all of the boxes. Slowly they slid forward, bumping along the tracks and picking up speed, the rumbling becoming so loud they didn’t try to talk. Nick crawled over to the corner and stretched out his legs. Lareina moved over to give Aaron more room and closed her eyes, but couldn’t find a way to prevent her head from bouncing against some part of the train. After fifteen minutes of trying to get comfortable, she realized Aaron and Nick had both, somehow, fallen asleep. She crawled to the door where a knee-high panel stood as a barrier to anything sliding out. Silvery stars blurred against the sky as she sped beneath them. The train slowed for a small town, sped up, slowed down again. Considering her options, she slid the pendant out of hiding, lifted it close to her face, then twirled it between her fingers. Could she tell Nick and Aaron about it? No. Were they in danger even without knowing? Definitely. Would she continue to expose them to such risks?
“No,” she whispered out loud. The train slowed slightly, and guilt continued to plague her.
Turning away from the dark landscape blurring by outside, she observed Aaron slumped sideways, half hidden behind the boxes, and Nick sleeping peacefully curled up in the corner. They would be better off without her. She had to run alone or she would never escape. Despite the aching behind her eyes, the feeling of sandpaper in her throat, and the weight of dread in her legs, she stood.
The clack between each bump increased with every second. Unsteadily, she approached the doorway’s edge with her backpack in one hand.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered without turning around.
With a quick fling of her arm, she swung her backpack out into the grass beside the tracks. Then, without hesitation, she sprang forward, catapulting herself away from shelter, safety, and the two people who had almost been her family.
Chapter 15
Her shoulder slammed against the ground first and she somersaulted twice to displace the force. Tangled weeds and matted grass didn’t offer as much cushioning as she had convinced herself they would. Sitting up slowly, a little stunned, she assessed her condition: no broken bones, perhaps a few scratches and bruises, but nothing serious. The train clacked away, unaffected by Lareina’s departure. Aaron and Nick would wake up far too late to narrow down her location. They had their own goals to pursue anyway.
She stood up, dusted off her clothes, and walked along the track until she located her backpack. Out in the open, she found herself exposed to a bone-chilling wind that lifted her hair off her neck and swept her open jacket away from her body. Zipping her jacket, she picked her way through the waist high grass, away from the train tracks. Light from a town ahead should have drawn her like a moth to a porch light, but fear of Galloway on her trail steered her clear of civilization. Instead of walking toward safety and warmth, one step at a time, she traipsed deeper into the frigid darkness.
She distracted her mind from the discomfort of walking by counting her footsteps. Counting was easier than thinking about Galloway, or Susan, or the pendant like frost against her skin. There was nothing to see but grass—no trees, no houses, not even a bush. Under normal circumstances that wouldn’t be a problem, but lightning flashed on the horizon. A low rumble of thunder announced the storm’s close proximity.
Shivering, she shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. The temperature continued to drop and her jacket proved insufficient to protect her from the icy wind. Although her feet ached and she wanted to sleep, she couldn’t stop until she found shelter. A bright streak of lightning flashed through the darkness. She dropped to the ground, and clasped her hands over her head, sure that it struck the ground right in front of her. Only seconds later, a crash of thunder shook the ground. Lareina scrambled to her feet and ran. Logic told her outrunning the storm would be impossible, but her animal brain urged her on. Her numb feet slapped against the ground and every breath tore through her lungs like razor-edged snowflakes.
Tangled grass caught at her feet as a cold raindrop splashed against her face. Then one splattered her hand and another collided with her forehead. Raindrops thudded all around her, and she forced her feet forward. Individual drops of moisture became a wind-driven wall of water. She staggered forward, lost her footing, and plummeted into swampy grass. Soaked, shivering, and out of breath, shaky arms pushed her body upward until she once again stood against the storm.
One step, two steps, three . . . Another step closer to home, shelter, anything with a roof. She tried to forget her numb fingers, throbbing ears, uncontrollable shivering, and chattering teeth. Don’t think, just walk, s
he told herself.
The diminishing storm offered little comfort; it had already done its damage. She forced her feet forward and extended her hands to the gentle mist that had replaced the punishing rain. Absolute silence fell over the soaked landscape. Any leftover drizzle ceased. Lareina raised her face to the sky, but before she could enjoy the moment of peace, a sharp, hard object fell from above, striking just below her left eye. The force of it dropped her to her knees.
No one, human or animal, heard her cry out in pain. Eyes blurring with tears, she reached toward the stinging injury then pulled her hand away, stained with warm, sticky blood. Something white glimmered against the dark ground in front of her. She picked up the jagged, golf ball–sized chunk of ice and turned it over in her hands. An arrhythmic thud . . . thud, thud . . . thud echoed around her.
Water splashed out of puddles, displaced by the oversized, frozen raindrops hurtling down from the sky. The intensity increased from a random thud here and there to a constant drumming. Another chunk of ice splashed mud onto her hand, breaking her daze, and motivating her to get on her feet again. With no other options, she sprinted through the ambush of hail.
She scanned the horizon for a tree, a bush, anything that could offer a little shelter, but knee-high grass stretched out around her for miles. As a last resort to protect herself, she pulled her backpack off and held it over her head as ice pellets carpeted the ground, creating a slippery, crunchy barrier for her to navigate. Ignoring the burning in her lungs, she ran blindly with no destination in sight. Her aching feet begged her to stop, but she couldn’t stand out in the middle of a hailstorm.
Her foot caught on something and she fell forward, her elbows crashing against a hard surface that banged with her impact. With each burst of lightning, she examined the slightly slanted, rough surface beneath her. It consisted of two panels attached to a metal handle.
Hope for the Best Page 13