Henry linked his arm in mine and we peeked around the front of the building. He moved ahead of me to make sure there weren’t any surprises lying in wait. Lucky for us, we were in an airport town.
Cabs were plentiful.
We slid across the hard plastic back seats of the first one we laid eyes on, a typical yelow four-door that looked like every other cab on the road, its toplight iluminated, black checked graphics splashed across the doors. At first, the driver protested the forty-minute trip, in heavy traffic, south to Tacoma. Until Henry flashed him a wad of cash. The cabbie’s eyes widened like a temperamental child staring at a pink cloud of cotton candy.
Even though we were in the back of a cab, speeding away from the imminent threat of discovery by Lucian, we kept our hats on and slumped down in the seats. Our timing was impeccable—tons of cars, busy sidewalks. Any one of those people could be working against us, and we wouldn’t have known it. I now understood Henry’s earlier paranoia.
Once the driver made it on to Interstate 5, the pace picked up some, thanks to the carpool lane. We sat up straighter, even dared to look out the window. I was reluctant to look at Henry, afraid of what I might see in his face.
“I wonder what happened to our ride,” I said. I had to talk, to break the images cycling through my mind, the flashes accelerating with the prolonged silence. The cab had a plastic shield that separated us from the driver, but I kept my voice low enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear our conversation over his blaring sports radio station.
“Obviously, Lucian got to him, whomever he was. Ted must’ve given Lucian the guy’s number and physical address in his effort to save Irwin,” Henry said, looking out the window at nothing but the grey blur of the concrete freeway divider. “He did the right thing.
It’s an impossible situation. I just hope he’s…” Alive. Neither one of us said it, but it didn’t need to be said.
Instead of talking, Henry stretched his right arm to me. I took his hand, but stayed on my half of the seat. I needed some blank-stare window time, too, and although his hand had returned to the usual safe, warm state he reserved for me, there was a severity to it, a chil. And I’d be a liar if I didn’t feel anxious as his hand wrapped around mine, after what I’d seen him do.
“I lost my letter G necklace. Tiny snapped it off,” I said, not moving my gaze from the landscape as it raced past outside the window.
“We’l get you a new one,” Henry said softly as he stroked my hand with his thumb. That was the sum of our conversation until the cab puled into the lot at the Amtrak station.
The driver made it to Tacoma ten minutes sooner than he’d said he would, likely with the hope of reaping a sizable tip for his skil behind the wheel. Reap he did; as Henry had done with the waitress, he doubled the fare and then some. If he continued his generosity with the members of the local service industry, we might be looking at finding passage to France as stowaways on a cargo ship.
A sense of guarded relief washed over me upon seeing a near-empty parking lot. No black BMWs, no police cars. We hustled toward the train station entrance, as near to without actualy running.
We also couldn’t risk lingering in the open.
I froze when we reached the main doors.
“What?” he said.
I pointed my chin at the newspaper boxes. Henry nodded and opened the front door. “I want you to go into the bathroom and wait for me.” He entered first, tucking me behind him. “I’l knock three times on the door when I have our tickets.” I puled on his arm and stopped him, petrified by the prospect of being separated from him for even a second. “No. I’m coming with you. I’l stand to the side, but I’m not going anywhere that you’l be out of sight.” It didn’t do any good for him to argue with me. I was gluing myself to his side. It couldn’t be any other way, not now, not after our near miss at Denny’s.
The gods were finaly showing us some favor as the next train on the Starlight route was due in forty minutes. Henry purchased tickets for us to get to Los Angeles, although our itinerary hadn’t yet been nailed down. He booked a private sleeper cabin so we could avoid mixing with other southbound travelers. We made good use of the vending machines and smal coffee-and-snack kiosk inside the waiting area and filed what little room was left in our backpacks with candy and granola bars, chips, muffins, cookies, and a few pieces of fruit.
I didn’t want to stop moving, didn’t want to sit in the waiting area amongst other passengers. Families were clumped together, looking happy and excited about the adventure chugging its way down from Seattle. I had to look away from the middle-aged couple tucked into one of the high-back benches, chatting casualy, the wife twisting her rings around her fingers, the husband’s arm comfortable around her shoulders as they watched a toddler a few benches in front of them. It al looked so normal, so easy, so uncomplicated. The entire scene made me sad.
“I need to use the restroom,” I said. “But you have to come with me. No separation, remember?”
Henry didn’t argue, instead folowing me into the bathroom designated for families. Like a true gentleman, he turned away while I did my business. It was truly bizarre to be peeing with Henry present, in this faraway train station, so distant from my life as it existed just a few days ago. Never in a milion years did I expect this week to close on such a ludicrous note. As I sat on the toilet, I laughed. It caught me off guard.
“What’s so funny?” Henry said, his back stil turned.
“I was thinking about how annoyed I was with Junie the other day, how she wanted me to go with her to some party,” I said, fumbling to pul up my pants with one hand. “To think that was the biggest of my worries.”
“Funny how life does that.”
“I don’t know about funny…,” I said, messing with the faucet to get the water temperature right. A scald to the already existing injury was the last thing I needed.
Henry puled paper towels off the dispenser for me.
“You gotta go, too? I promise not to peek.”
“No, I’m good, thanks,” he smiled. His hand was on the doorknob but before he turned it, he faced me. His smile faded, his expression pained.
“Gemma, I’m so sorry. For al of this. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Please, stop. We’ve covered this already. I don’t want you apologizing. This is no more your fault than it is mine.” I touched his arm with my uninjured hand.
“But the thing at the pool hal, with Tiny…,” he paused. “You shouldn’t have had to see that. I’m just realy…embarrassed.” Henry brushed my cheek with his fingertip. I flinched involuntarily.
“See? Now you’re afraid of me.”
I flattened his hand against my cheek, my hand on top of his.
“Henry, I am not afraid of you. Yeah, what happened was freaky as hel, but Tiny got what he asked for. I saw you—I heard you—try to convince him to let go,” I said. “And I am honored that you stepped up to protect me. No one’s ever done anything like that.”
“You mean no one’s ever electrocuted another human being because he puled your hair?” he smiled. Warmth coursed through his palm into my face. That was the Henry I was used to.
“Nope, but I sure could’ve used you when I was a kid. Ash thought it plenty funny to pul me around by my braids.” The smile again dropped off Henry’s face. “Ash… about Ash,” he said, his eyebrows knitted together.
“What?”
“I wasn’t going to mention this until after you’d had some rest,” he said.
“What about Ash? Did Lucian get to him?” I said.
“You could say that.” I dropped my hand from Henry’s. Panic threatened to overwhelm me yet again.
“Oh my God, oh my God, Junie! What about Junie? Lucian said something about her.” I grabbed the lapels of his pea coat.
“No—it’s not that—I don’t know if he has Junie. I’m sure she’s fine, at least for the moment.”
“What are you saying, then, Henry? Please!”
He
took a deep breath. “When Lucian answered the cal earlier, before I handed you the phone, Lucian said that Ash was with him.”
“What? First he tortures Irwin, and then he kidnaps Ash?” I began to shake.
“He didn’t kidnap him.” Henry took a moment to let his words sink into my head.
“He’s…helping? He’s helping Lucian look for us?” I whispered.
I relaxed my grip on his coat, my fingers cramping against the thick, coarse wool.
Henry swalowed hard and placed his hand on my shoulder. As if the bottom hadn’t falen away from under my feet often enough as of late, now my circus brother, my lifelong playmate and friend, had gone traitor. He was helping the enemy, a blood-lusting beast, to hunt us down. Ash had gone to the dark side, final proof that he was the shalow, self-serving deviant I’d oft suspected him to be.
Outside in the hal, I could hear a smal child whimpering about having to go pee-pee. A slight knock on the door happened at the same time as the speaker in the ceiling announced the arrival of our train.
“That’s us,” Henry said. “Let’s get into our cabin, and then we can talk al night, okay,?” He lifted my chin with his finger. I nodded.
He opened the door to a little girl bouncing up and down, on the verge of tears. The dad looked unhappy as he pushed past us.
“It says ‘families’ on the door, not teen hangout.” I would’ve given him a dirty look if I’d cared enough.
An Amtrak employee with a sizable roling cart was creeping down the hal in front of us, blocking our way into the main terminal lobby. There wasn’t enough room to squeeze past on either side, and the guy pushing the cart was preoccupied with a heated discussion in rapid-fire Spanish on his wireless headset, oblivious to any other human on the planet.
Overriding the cart attendant’s conversation, I heard snippets of another exchange, the voice familiar.
Henry stopped and puled hard on my arm. He turned and pushed me ahead of him, down the hal in the opposite direction, opening the door at the end that read “Emergency Exit Only.” An alarm set to buzzing right away, but Henry ushered me through quickly enough that by the time the hydraulic arm of the door puled it back into its frame, ceasing the alarm, we were clear of the building.
“Is he here? Is Ash here? I heard him!” Henry put his fingers to my lips to quiet me.
“The amulet—is it warm?” Henry stopped in the darkness at the corner of the building, the only light from a mercury vapor security light flickering its last from high up on a light standard. The train was in sight, a mere twenty feet across the platform to where the conductor was helping passengers up the stairs into their respective cars.
I reached for the charm but it was cool and heavy against my chest. “It’s cold…the amulet is cold,” I said.
Henry fished our tickets out of his jacket pocket. “I want you to walk in my forward shadow, just to my left. Do not look back into the terminal. Keep your eyes on the conductor at the third car from the engine.”
“What—”
He interrupted me, his voice gentle but firm. “Yes, it’s Ash. He’s at the counter talking to the ticket agent.” I knew it. I’d heard him.
“Just move. Quick and quiet, and do not look around. Stay focused on the train.”
I nodded and hooked my arm through his.
“Let’s go,” he said. I did what he’d told me, my head down, moving in unison under the cover of his height, not quite paralel but almost. I watched Henry’s feet and maintained his pace, matching him step for step. From a certain angle, no one would’ve noticed that there were two people walking across the platform, so wel timed were our steps.
Henry shielded me as I handed my ticket to the agent standing at the entry to the third car. She tore a stub from the ticket and handed it back to me, repeating the action for Henry as I scurried up the steps and scoured the door fronts for our cabin number. Henry was fast on my heels and we reached for our cabin doorknob at the same time.
“Ladies first,” he said, pushing the door open for me. The cabin was tiny but private, and for the time being, safe.
Henry dropped my backpack onto the floor and rushed to draw the blinds over the window before turning on one of the reading lamps. He also locked the cabin door, though not before hanging the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the exterior. The conductor would likely come through to double-check our tickets before departure, but for now, perhaps the sign would keep food services and other wel-meaning staff away from this cabin.
We sat across from one another in the dim light, listening as people scooted past in the narrow hal. Someone with a two-way radio outside the window stuffed luggage compartments along the train’s side. The vibration of suitcases being hoisted in and the solid latch and lock of the steel doors resonated through the floor. I was relieved to be sitting, hidden from view, though my head was itching from the coarse yarn of the hat. If Ash had shown photos or given the ticketing agent my physical description, they would’ve easily picked me off had my hair been exposed. Wherever we were headed in the next thirty-six hours, I knew I’d be wise to dye and cut it off. I needed to transform myself into every girl so that I would no longer stand out in a crowd.
At last, the “al aboard” sounded from the platform, and exterior doors slid closed. The engines at the front of the train purred louder and louder until a sharp squeak indicated the brakes were loosening their grip on the steel wheels. Henry and I stared at one another within the temporary sanctuary of the cabin. We breathed in slow, measured beats while we waited for the jarring yank of the engines to chug into motion. The wals on the cabin were dense enough that I didn’t have to struggle against the conversations of neighbors or of those passing by in the hal. The relative silence was golden.
Only when we could feel the locomotive inching forward did Henry shrug out of his backpack. I waited for another few moments before doing the same, afraid to jinx it, afraid the train would lurch to a stop. I dared only to peek out the side of the closed blind to confirm we were truly moving forward. Once I could see that we were for sure advancing, I took an exhausted, overwhelmed breath and sat back against my seat.
As expected, a conductor knocked on the cabin door, making his rounds to ensure passengers were stowed in their proper seat assignments. He stamped our tickets and informed us that guest services would be by with blankets and pilows. Henry thanked him and relocked the door as the man moved on to the next cabin.
Though we were alone, Henry whispered. He knew I could hear him, even above the dul rumble of the train’s movement along the tracks.
“You doing okay, Gemma? Are you hungry?” He unzipped his pack and handed me a banana before I could answer.
“I’m so tired. I don’t think I’m going to be able to stay awake forever.” The banana tasted delicious, and my gut growled its appreciation after the first bite dropped into the emptiness. “That was a close cal. Why is Ash involved with this?” I took another bite. “And we had no warning.” I puled the amulet out from my coat, careful not to upset the squishy blisters on my fingertips.
Henry puled his coat off and then helped me out of mine. “I don’t understand, either. At least we know now that the amulet won’t always give us a fail-safe warning.”
“I feel so…betrayed.”
Henry sat on the bench next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He puled the hat off my head, careful as he unknotted and finger-combed my tangled hair. I didn’t care that I must’ve looked a mess. Henry’s touch was soothing. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Ash, replaying memories of better times when he and Junie and I were as close as siblings. At one time, we were al we had, until we’d started at Eaglefern. I missed those days, when we were like the Three Amigos of the circus world. We ate our meals together, timed one another as we raced through chores, chalenged each other to get assignments done and impress our tutors. There were other circus kids in our tiny peer group, but no one interfered with our friendship, no one tried to break us apart or impose
themselves upon our triad. There had been a time in the not-too-distant past when Ash had been a nice guy, compassionate toward the younger kids, considerate of our elders.
Of course, once puberty arrived, the change in Ash was quick and obvious. He complained about everything, argued with his parents and sister and sometimes even Ted, locked horns with local hires who would come on to help with set-up and takedown in any number of stopover towns. Junie and I endured the brunt of his moody tantrums and instead of hanging out and goofing around with us, he preferred to criticize and mock us. We had become stupid and immature in his eyes, unimportant to his new worldly ways, unless of course he was lonely or wanted something. From Junie, he’d ask for money; he’d manipulate me into doing his homework, begging me in his honeyed, hormone-cracked voice to write his essays or finish his biology questions. Because I’d had such a crush on him, I’d often cave and do what he’d asked because I wanted him to like me as more than a friend.
And now, he was using his innate gifts of deceit and connivance to help Lucian. The worst part, even more disturbing than his blatant betrayal of our friendship, was that I doubted he even understood the gravity of the situation he had involved himself in. I couldn’t imagine that Ash had been briefed on the complexities surrounding the AVRA-K. Lucian couldn’t have told Ash everything; the risk would be too great. And what about Summer? Did Ash know anything about her duplicity? Would Lucian risk it?
Lucian’s sudden interest in Ash would’ve served Ash’s insatiate need for attention, and Lucian recognized Ash’s weakness of character from a mile away. He was the perfect recruit for Lucian’s mission of mayhem, an al-too-wiling yes-man who would act as instructed with minimal information. On top of everything else, I now had to mourn the death of a decade-old friendship. And it sucked.
“I just can’t believe that Ash would be helping Lucian. What about Ash’s parents? And Junie? I wonder what is going on at the fairgrounds, right now, at this moment,” I said, tossing the banana peel aside. “They al probably think I’m a murderer.”
Sleight: Book One of the AVRA-K Page 32