“Remember the net I told you about? If they located a signal from the phone in Kineta, then it's logical that they'd put up blockades along the interstate that runs past it.” At the red light, he idled with impatient glances at the cross traffic and his mirrors.
“Is there another way to get around them to reach the coast you want to set off from?” The light seemed to be taking forever to change.
“Shit. Shit.” The light was still red but Rhett punched the gas; tires barked and smoke spewed up from the friction of rubber on asphalt.
Evelyn screamed when a semi coming from her right hit the brakes, sending the huge truck skidding and sliding right for them. She jammed her hands out against the door and the dashboard, bracing for impact. The car jerked forward just as the bumper of the truck made contact. Rhett recovered control of the fishtailing Eclipse and rocketed them through the intersection.
This was the second close call in a car she'd had with Rhett. Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs and she shot a look behind them to see what had made him take such extreme, evasive action. The semi flipped over onto its side and, metal screeching like nails on chalkboard, crashed into a corner store. Through the smoke and the chaos, she saw two of the SUVs coming straight on, veering around other cars sitting at haphazard angles after stopping for the accident.
“How did they know this was us?” Disbelief made her voice pitch high.
“Because we pulled out of line and turned around. But we had no choice. They've got our photos. We would have been marked immediately and detained.” He took a hard turn at the next left.
“Where are we going to go? They're probably on the radios already.”
“Shh. Just hang on. We won't go down easy.”
***
“Dracht?”
“Yes, Alex?”
“I need to pee.”
He barked a laugh despite the dire circumstances of their situation. “Can you hold it another fifteen minutes?”
She exhaled elaborately, like she just wasn't sure she could do that. “I guess so. But if I tell ya to pull over, just do it and don't ask questions.”
“How good can you aim?”
Alex brushed a long piece of dark hair over her shoulder and eyed Dracht suspiciously. “I'm a girl, you do realize that, right?”
His lips twitched at the corners. “I remember. There's an old coffee can behind the seat. If I find a secluded enough spot, you can use that in the absence of a restroom.”
The truck, a broken down piece of junk if Alex had ever seen one, had a decent running engine going for it and a slew of crap behind the seat belonging to the former owner. Dracht hadn't wasted time trying to negotiate at that hour of the morning; the truck had been the best shot at a different vehicle and Dracht showed his prowess in hot wiring when he decided to take it. Tacked to the tree in the yard where the truck had been parked, Dracht had left an envelope with several thousand dollars in it to cover the loss. Alex thought that was pretty generous considering she wouldn't have paid a hot red cent for it.
Twisting around in the seat, sneering playfully across the truck at him, she rooted through spark plug wires, random wrenches and sockets, greasy towels, several funnels, old shirts and fishing gear for the coffee can.
“I don't know how you saw anything back here with all this junk. Oh, here it is.” The rust red color caught her eye. Pulling it out of the mess, she brought it with her to the front and plopped it on the bench seat between them. Alex loathed seat belts and hadn't been at all distressed to learn that the one on the passenger's side was broken.
C'est la vie.
“We should be coming up on the edge of Nia Makri in about twenty minutes. There's a small, private dock there and we'll grab one of the boats and go,” he said.
“Aren't you afraid the owner will call in the theft? Won't that tip them off?” Alex asked, looking away from the striking scenery to Dracht. The dark colors he wore complimented his dark coloring, the trimmed goatee on his chin.
“I'll try and rent one first, but if it comes down to it, we'll have no choice but to 'borrow' one. We can't fly out of here. I'm sure every single airfield is being watched or will be shortly. It's a lot less trouble to check flights than it is every boat that comes and goes along the shoreline.” He shot out over a small hill; the water stretched beyond the coastline, blue and pristine as a freshly cut gem.
Nestled into the landscape were white dots representing houses and businesses. Dracht stayed to the back roads, the truck chugging along with persistent growls and snarls.
One of Alexandra's knees started bouncing restlessly, a sure sign her bladder was becoming more insistent. Dracht must have noticed because he rolled the truck into the next gas station they came to. Two doors outside with a man and woman symbol on them indicated the bathrooms were there instead of inside. Dracht idled the vehicle right next to the sidewalk just a handful of steps from the doors themselves. Few customers were around.
“If you hear me honk the horn, get your butt back out here right away.”
“Yes sir. I'll be right back.” Climbing out, she had to close the door twice before it stuck. Aiming for the women's room, she went inside after a cursory check to make sure it was empty. Five minutes later she returned and hopped back in.
“That's better. Don't feel like I'm going to float away.”
“We'll stop at another one closer to the docks and pick up some food.” He glanced away from the parking lot that he'd been scrutinizing, put the truck in gear, and sped out of the parking lot heading east.
“Sounds good to me.” Alexandra studied the scenery out her window. It dawned on her that this was probably the last time she would see Greece for a very long time. Bitter about her circumstance, she propped a boot against the cracked dashboard. She wasn't ready to die, that was for sure, and though she loved the place of her birth, she'd become accustomed to the very things that now jeopardized her life.
Technology.
She loved learning programs and hacking into databases and figuring out new systems. It challenged her mind. Not huge on television, she adored movies, especially epic masterpieces with expansive soundtracks and extraordinary special effects. Adjusting to the changes that came with each decade, she couldn't imagine having all of it ripped away for a life living off the land.
No phones, no movies, no computers. Eden, as beautiful, peaceful and safe as it was, lacked another commodity that Alexandra had learned to crave: people.
Evelyn and Minna could only keep her occupied for so long.
“You all right, Alexandra?” Dracht's voice, with its baritone timbre, resonated in the cab.
“Yeah. Just thinkin' about going back. I mean, I know we have to. I can see the writing on the wall already. You guys are right. They're gonna find us and then it'll be years of captivity and torture and we don't need that.”
“I feel a 'but' in there somewhere,” he said.
“Well, like...when you don't know what you're missin', then you don't miss it. That make sense?”
He nodded, darting looks in both mirrors, keeping a sharp eye out despite the conversation.
“So we've learned to acclimate all this time. We had Eden first and Eden was great. Then we left and the societies popped up. New cities, change, and eventually boats. Cars, airplanes. It made traveling the world so much faster and convenient. We might have come from nothing, but to go back to nothing after all this—it's almost like being born naked, learning to wear clothes and appreciate all they can do for you—then having them stripped away permanently. You feel lost, cold, exposed.”
“I can understand that. Mostly.”
“We'll have had all this interaction, the travel, moving around with so many new things to see and experience. Eden has that on a geographic level.” She rubbed her forehead.
“There is nothing there but natural landscape?” he asked.
“My siblings didn't build their crude stone homes until we were exiled. Eden is pristine, untouched.
It's never too hot, never too cold—except up in the mountains—and there are plenty of places to take cover during rainstorms.”
“There are mountains in Eden?” He stopped at a sign, looked both ways, and pressed the gas pedal.
The truck sputtered, coughed and died.
Dracht cursed under his breath. He turned the key in the ignition.
Nothing.
***
“Are you sure I can't do anything else for you?” The truck driver, whose named turned out to be Pete, stabbed out his eighteenth cigarette in an ashtray overloaded with crooked cigarette butts.
Minna glanced across the smoky cab. She had given her name as Miriam in case he ran across a checkpoint and got questioned.
“You've done more than enough. Thank you, Pete.” Minna reached over to touch his arm in gratitude, smiled, and climbed down to the ground. Before she closed the heavy door, she waved. The action felt deceptively cheery.
“Take care now,” he bellowed. Then he reached for a new pack of cigarettes to start the chain smoking process all over again.
Minna banged the door shut and turned away from the truck. Pete had taken a more direct route to the coast, missing the busiest inner city Athens traffic with roads skimming the perimeter. She'd seen no checkpoints along the way, for which she'd been thankful.
With blocks of businesses in every direction, she paused to take stock; the docks of Rafina sat perhaps a half mile east. She'd requested to be dropped off this far from her destination because she had a few things she needed to get before finding passage across the channel.
The truck lurched back into the sparse flow of traffic just as Minna struck out at a brisk pace along the sidewalk. Here the air smelled salty, the breeze carrying aromatic scents from restaurants and cafes scattered between taller structures intended for city and private commercial business. The town itself, what she'd seen so far, had an archaic European charm, the architecture flattering against the rugged terrain. She'd lived here for eight months back in a time before airplanes, before cars. Less than fifty houses had nestled into the rocky landscape and the only buildings for business were the bakery and shoe smith.
Much had changed since then.
She found a small secondhand store after obtaining coffee and two bagels, paid with more of the cash she'd taken out of Dracht's bag. Keeping a keen eye out, she consumed her breakfast with more haste than she usually liked to eat, drained the steamy black brew, and tossed the trash away.
The interior of Daphne's was an assault on the senses; rounders stuffed with clothes made it all but impossible to navigate and the dim atmosphere wasn't relieved even with jaundiced lamplight spilling down from three chandeliers hanging from a wood beam ceiling. Charmingly eccentric, there were more clothes on decorative shelves lining the walls and a collection of used shoes packed in cubbies along the length of the counter. Odds and ends fit anywhere there was an inch of space to hold them. A fresh spring scent, probably from a time-release spritzer, warred with the musty tang of old linen and tweed. She experienced an odd pang of nostalgia and remorse at the thought of stores like this vanishing forever.
“Can I help you find something?” The flawless, heavily accented Greek came from an elderly woman with a severely wrinkled face and white hair. She stood behind the long counter, only her shoulders and head visible.
In perfect Greek, Minna said, “Do you carry scarves and handbags?”
The old woman stepped up onto a step stool to make herself taller and pointed over the hoards of clothing to a skein of scarves all hanging from a steel ring hooked into the wall.
“Thank you.” Minna squeezed between rounders and searched through the scarves. She wanted a longer one, not too colorful, not too thick. She found a cream color in silk with frayed ends and a handbag made of artificial alligator skin. The size appealed rather than the design. Picking out a few shirts, she added that to her purchases along with one pair of gray slacks and another pair of jeans.
A few surreptitious glances at the corners of the shop turned up no video cameras. If the old woman had them, she'd hidden them well.
After paying, Minna rolled the clothing and put it into the bag. She looped the scarf around her head in a way that obscured her hair and part of her face but still looked fashionable.
Leaving the store with goodbyes fading on the air, she headed for the docks, alert for anything unusual. The people she passed, even the tourists, nodded or said hello. Sometimes in Greek, sometimes in halting English.
Minna returned the greetings politely, drawing no undue attention to herself. At a fruit stand, she procured several apples, a few oranges and a bag of grapes to put into her purse along with the clothes. The bottle of water she held in her hand and sipped from while she waited at a red light to cross the intersection. On the other side, beyond a half block of shops, were the docks.
A police car pulled up alongside the curb she stood next to, waiting for the light to turn. She saw it in periphery and at first thought she'd been spotted. Staying calm, she casually turned her head to pretend to look along the avenue the other direction, fiddling with the cap to her water. Tension drew lines across her shoulders that she eased by rolling them as if the heat of the day was getting to her.
The light turned and the police car cruised through, on its way somewhere else.
Minna breathed a quiet sigh of relief and crossed to the other side. Tossing the empty bottle into a trash can along the way, she headed for the docks, panning a look along the boats in the berths. Men and women climbed on and off several of them, busy with maintenance and other boat owner responsibilities.
One couple, with a decent sized vessel, not too large and not too small, had a sign advertising day trips. The man, middle aged with a shock of blonde hair, seemed brisk and businesslike even though he wore beach shorts and a tank top. Petite and athletic, the woman with him sported a pixie bob of dark hair pulled into a ponytail. She too wore shorts and a tank top.
After another cursory check of available boats, Minna thought they seemed like the best place to start.
“Excuse me?” she asked in English after the short walk to the vessel. It bobbed and swayed on the water.
The man glanced up and broke into a broad grin, hopping down from the boat to the dock. He replied in English as well without any other accent. “Hello. What can we do for you?”
American transplants, Minna thought. Working for some company here to 'get away from it all'. Or maybe they even owned the boat, going into business for themselves. She couldn't blame them. The area was stunning and high tourist volume made for good revenue.
“I need passage to Israel--”
“Oh, I'm sorry Ma'am, we don't go out that far. Just to Crete and all the islands between.” He offered up another jocular grin and pointed to a larger boat six slips down. “Murphy there, on the Belladonna, he can take you to Israel.”
Minna glanced in the direction of the gesture. She didn't see 'Murphy' anywhere, though the boat looked well kept and in good condition. Larger than the one she stood in front of, she wondered if they would have to take on more passengers to make the trip worth while for the operator. The less people the better in case someone caught up with them on the water.
She looked back at the blonde man. “I'll pay you three times your asking price for a day trip to Crete. Cash.”
The man, startled, didn't at first know what to say. Then he boomed a laugh and held out his hand to seal the deal with a shake. “Absolutely. When do you want to leave?”
“Today. As soon as possible, if you please.” Minna shook his hand.
“Will an hour suffice?”
“An hour will be perfect.”
***
The speed limit couldn't have been more than forty, but Rhett was doing at least eighty. Evelyn gripped the door and the dashboard so hard her knuckles turned white. He careened around a corner and swerved into oncoming traffic to avoid a bakery truck reversing onto the street from an alleyway.
&n
bsp; “Get the hell out of the way!” Rhett shouted. Too late; he threaded the Eclipse through panicked drivers, horns screaming, barely missing collisions with two of them.
Evelyn thought her heart was going to pound right out of her chest. Breathing too erratic to speak, she watched the near misses out the side window.
Up ahead, the next stoplight was blessedly green. Thank god. She didn't think she could handle running another red. One of the black SUVs pulled into the intersection ahead, blocking a good portion of it. The driver and passenger got out, bringing their automatic weapons up like they meant to fire.
“RHETT!”
“I see it, I see it! Get down!”
She ducked down as far as the space would allow. The small, compact car didn't allow her much room to maneuver. They weren't really designed with car chases in mind.
The chatter of weapons overlaid shouting that she couldn't understand, all coming from outside somewhere. Rhett zig-zagged the car in a wild figure S that crashed her into the door, the console and the seat.
Were they shooting at them with the intent to kill?
“Hold on, holdon!” Rhett spat his warning out a few seconds before the car impacted something solid.
She heard metal screech, a bumper give and brakes of other vehicles trying to avoid the mayhem. Jostled, her shoulder crashed off the dashboard. Against her better judgment, she poked her head up to take a look. Rhett had grazed the SUV, scattering the men with guns who had been firing at them.
“Why are they shooting at us?” she demanded. “I thought they needed us alive to get the information they want?”
“They were shooting at the tires.” Speaking through clenched teeth, he tore around a corner, and another. A terrible noise came from somewhere near the wheel well on his side of the car.
“What is that?” she asked, resettling in the seat now that they weren't being openly shot at. Every time she got in a vehicle with Rhett, bad things happened.
“Car damage. Not going to last long. We need to ditch out.”
“Ditch out where? They're probably right behind us.” She wrenched a look over her shoulder.
Daughters of Eve Collection (Books 1, 2 & 3) Page 31