Oliver wrestled open an ancient vending machine and we greedily guzzled back warm Coke’s and stale nacho chips. I could feel the food giving my cells energy and clearing my mind. All at once, I noticed the sound of sirens and the stomping of feet over our heads. Mice scurried across the room. I pulled my feet up onto the chair when one as big as a cat got a little too close, making a note to avoid the abandoned shoe it lunged into.
“Why does this place seem like it was left in a hurry?” I asked, hoping the stale food and syrupy drinks would settle down in my stomach.
Oliver was digging through a locker. “Because it was. This is one of four laundry rooms in the estate. It was blocked off even before Henry took over when four women died within hours of each other. Radon gas was thought to be the cause, so every entrance was sealed off until someone could figure out how to fix the problem. Turns out the women that died were involved in some sort of cult and Radon had nothing to do with it. But by the time that was discovered, years had gone by and nobody bothered to open the room again. It wasn’t needed anyway.”
“Lucky for us.”
“There used to be six entrances to this room, and now they are all sealed and plastered over. If you were walking through the halls upstairs, you wouldn’t realize that behind seamless wallpaper and old armoires are boarded up doors. I think anyone who would have known about this place is long gone.”
Oliver tossed me a pair of size twelve boots and a beige canvas shirt with a name tag that said ‘Lou’. The boots fit. The shirt however was too tight and the fabric against my back was like sandpaper. I left the buttons open. “How do you know about it then?” I asked.
“When some of my memories came back, I recalled a cook telling me about this place. I had spent months creeping around, trying to find a way in because I thought it might come in handy when Sindra wanted to get back to ‘training’. One night when I was desperate to get away from her, I found that hole in the wall. I spent a few nights down here until I got hungry, then crawled my way back up.”
“How old were you?”
“Ten, twelve? I don’t know. But I sure got the ass-whoopin’ of a lifetime when Sindra finally found me.”
“These people are sick,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Yeah. And it took me way too long to figure that out.”
My heart broke for Oliver. He didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Hell, nobody deserved to be treated that way. “Well, don’t beat yourself up over it. That’s what I’m here for.”
He laughed. “Hilarious. You couldn’t punch your way out of a paper bag right now if your life depended on it.”
And then it came at him again. This time lasting longer. The cough was increasing, leaving him breathless after, his hands red with blood.
“Not a word, Luke,” he warned.
I nodded—there weren’t any, anyway. Sindra had told me in that motel room that if his lungs didn’t heal on their own, he had no hope of survival. Oliver would soon be another victim of Eronel Pharmaceutical.
“Listen, Luke, you have to rest, get your strength back, and then we have to get out of here,” he said, wiping his hand on a crispy, used napkin. “Then we find Kaya and get her far away from this madness. All right?”
I nodded again, feeling a tightness in my chest at the mention of her name.
“You gotta keep yourself together,” Oliver said perceptively. “She came back here, for you. She intended to trade her life for your freedom, but the cowboy stopped her. She will still try to find a way to do that again if we don’t get out of here and get to her first.”
I had no idea. Maybe I didn’t hate the cowboy so much—nah.
“You can’t let her down,” Oliver continued. “I’m going to help you get out of here and—Lord Almighty—help you get the girl.” He choked a bit on those last words. “But you gotta promise me when you get her back, you’ll keep her… far away from Henry.”
Never mind promises or vows, or rights and wrongs… or threats even… it would take an army the size of Jupiter to stop me from getting her back. And keeping her away from her family? That was at the very top of my priority list.
My reply was unnecessary, but I had to be polite. “Of course.”
Twenty-seven hours crawled by. I tried to sleep—my body desperately needed the rest—but my mind was in overdrive and not allowing it. Morning came and went. The afternoon dangled over pins and needles, and when the sun left the sky and brought the chill of evening, there was no sign of Oliver and Luke.
It took a lot of convincing to get Thomas to agree, but I had to go to the estate and see for myself what was going on. Maybe there was a way in now. Maybe by some stroke of luck, I’d find Luke among the crowd. I had to do something besides just sit and wait. At the very least, I had to get out of the death-filled house.
The night air took my breath away. It was full of that icy promise of snow. None of us had proper clothes except Lisa and she was bundled up in everything she owned. Seth’s backpack had been tossed into the freezer with him and it just seemed all sorts of wrong to dig it out, so Thomas tried to disguise me as best he could with what he had, which left him bare-armed in a t-shirt and jeans.
“We need warm jackets and food, then we will see how close we can get to the estate,” he said, linking his arm through mine when we hit the street.
I must have been invisible swimming in his jean jacket and hat, because two women almost fell off the curb to twist around and check him out. One blatantly ogled him and spilled coffee on her coat. I glared hard at a thirty-something blonde with caterpillar brows who unabashedly winked. If Thomas noticed, though, he didn’t care. He focused only on my arm linked with his and getting us to ‘Gary’s Mountain Wear Boutique’ a block away.
Except for my short chocolate bar excursion in Radium, I’d never really been shopping before. This was a simple clothing store, with serious-faced clerks, shelves of brightly-colored clothes, and shoes for running, hiking, walking, and biking. It made my head spin in an oddly enjoyable way.
Thomas had directed me to keep my chin down and focus on my toes with my shoulders slumped forward, but so many things were catching my eye. And so were the people. This is what normal folks did. They worked. They went on holidays. They laughed and held hands. They complained about price tags and picked out their own clothes and their own things. Everything I’d bought for myself had been ordered online with Stephan breathing over my shoulder. Here I could feel the fabric, smell the perfume and leather belts, and admire a shiny case of sunglasses and Swiss army knives guarded by a massive stuffed grizzly bear.
“This is amazing,” I muttered.
“Oh geez, it’s just a ski shop Kaya,” Lisa said, irritated, miserable, and rightly so. “All the cool designer stuff is on Main Street. And it’s stuffy in here. I’m going outside to keep watch. Hurry up.”
Thomas was sifting through a rack of ladies’ shirts. Next to him was a display case of sparkly rings, and hanging on the wall behind that, snowboards decorated like beautiful works of art. Of all the incredible sights to take in, though, Thomas was what fully captured my attention. He examined labels, shook his head at whatever didn’t appeal to him, and then nodded to himself when a garment seemed right. He was so assured. So comfortable. Like he belonged here, even though it was a brand-new place to him. I was mesmerized watching him pick out clothes for me. And I felt special. I felt… loved.
“Found you these, hun,” he said with a wink. “Do you have a color preference?”
He was holding up two sweaters—one blue, one black. I just shook my head. Truly, I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t even pick out a pair of socks.
With a grin that covered some of the worry on his face, he tapped on the brim of his cowboy hat so it came down over my forehead. My head wobbled, the hair piled underneath the hat making it way too heavy.
“Keep your chin down,” Thomas reminded me, casually glancing around the store. “And slouch. Henry’s men could be anywhere.”
“These sales are final,” the girl behind the counter said.
Thomas nodded. “All right.”
She licked her lips. “You know, we do have a dressing room. I could help you try on the men’s items before you buy them.”
“No thanks,” Thomas said, pushing the items he’d picked out toward her.
A machine beeped. Our things were being folded and stuffed into plastic bags.
“It’s nice that you’re buying clothes for your, um… friend,” the clerk said, digging for info with a flirtatious shovel.
My eyes met hers. For a moment, I was dirt she’d picked out from underneath her pointy fingernails. I felt small, miniscule, and inconsequential in the path of her fake-eyelash- purple-contact-lensed gaze—as was her intention. I thanked Henry for not sending me to high school.
The clerk’s eyelids fluttered so much I thought she might fly away. “We had some of those ‘ripped and wrinkled’ T-shirts come in last week,” she purred to Thomas. “They’re all the rage now. I could show you some… they might suit your friend better.”
Wow. This chick was a bitch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thomas grin, then he reached for my hand and brought it to his lips. A feather-light kiss, warm like a summer breeze, brushed the back of my hand. It took my breath away.
The clerk’s, too.
“No thanks,” he said. “My wife doesn’t really follow trends. Besides, her clothes will end up crumpled on the floor of our bedroom once I get them off her anyway. I can always add my own rips in the process.”
My cheeks burst into flames. The clerk gasped like she’d been slapped.
A thousand dollars later, Thomas was wearing a black wool coat out of the store with bags full of warm clothes for us both.
“You clean up nice,” I said, admiring the fabric that stretched across his broad shoulders and how the color complemented his tanned cheeks and hair.
He handed me the wool mittens I’d been examining in the store, eyes glittering like black diamonds. “Is that a compliment, wife?”
Lisa groaned. I’d forgotten she was behind us.
“Maybe,” I said, feeling my cheeks get even hotter.
Thomas genuinely began beaming. His smile stretched wide, but instantly faded when two men crossed the street and started heading in our direction. Walking too fast to be shoppers and too slow to be locals, the emotionless robots were certainly Lowen Security. We were caught. Running from them would give us away. So, Thomas grabbed my hand and put the smile back on his face.
“Let’s get some lattes, my love,” he said enthusiastically in some sort of Texan accent that was loud enough for anyone in a mile’s range to hear. “It’s bloody cold in this country. I can’t believe people live here.” He turned to Lisa. “How bout you, sis? Coffee? Or should we just hit up the liquor store, so you can drink yourself into your usual stupor?”
Lisa played along. “Do you always have to be such a jerk? I shouldn’t have to defend myself when we’re on holidays.” She lightly punched my shoulder. “Why don’t you stick up for me occasionally, Alicia? Tell your stupid husband to back off. There’s nothing wrong with having a glass of wine in the evening.”
The men approached, cast a brief glance at me and Thomas, then thoroughly checked out Lisa—she was a better disguise than my cowboy hat and jean jacket. With her close—Barbie figure and flowing blonde hair with eyelashes a mile long—no one would pay any mind to me. Not even the Lowen Robots.
And that came in handy the closer we got to Main Street.
There were so many people. Of every size, shape, and color. It was incredible. I’d lived on the edge of town all my life, only seeing it through bulletproof car windows. Being here on the street amongst the organized chaos, felt surreal. Magical. I was absorbed into it, becoming a part of the moving masses. Restaurant doors were open, warm, and inviting, and all sorts of food smells wafted through the air. At a candy store lined up twenty deep, a man strummed his guitar and sang something beautiful while people dropped change in the case at his feet. Endless streams of cars slowly ambled by, stopping for people crossing the streets wide-eyed as I was. I sidestepped a sleepy dog tied to a post and ducked out of the way of a pair of skis slipping from their new owner’s hands. Excitement crackled the air, and not just because of the red and blue cop cars with lights blinking on every corner, but the music pouring out of the nightclubs and the partiers eagerly awaiting entrance. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police on their beautifully groomed horses clopped by a fragrance and soap boutique. I was about to reach out and touch one until I was pulled into a coffee shop, Thomas’s hand tight around mine.
Log-cabin-style walls were bathed in yellow light, and people sipped and talked and studied on their laptops. The fragrant air made my mouth water.
“I’ll get the coffee and muffins,” Lisa said, moving in line behind a couple of girls giggling madly at something on a cell phone. “What do you want, Alicia?”
It took a moment to respond to my phony name because I was so entranced by the warm and inviting atmosphere of the place. A group of girls were seated at a corner table. Figuring they were about my age, I wondered what it would be like to be them. Hanging out with friends… being ‘normal’.
“Alicia?”
“Oh right. Coffee. Uh, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I answered, mostly because the menu choices were baffling—there were so many different names for coffee and steamed milk.
“All right then.” Lisa was digging out her wallet. “You go fix yourself up. I’m buying today.”
She pointed down a hallway toward a ladies’ washroom, and Thomas was dragging me there before I even knew my feet were moving.
“Whoa is it busy in this town,” he said, ducking into the washroom with me and locking the door. He had a black parka out of a bag and was ripping off the tags. “I know I said hiding in plain sight would be best, but even in my hat and jacket you are stunning. Getting too many looks.”
He was full of crap.
The cowboy hat was stuffed in a garbage can and my tangled mess of curls fell to my waist. “We need scissors,” I said, catching my reflection in the mirror.
Thomas smiled. “Nope. We have this.”
In his hands was a furry yellow toque with knitted cat ears, strings for whiskers and little button eyes. He pulled it down over my head, then to add to my ‘style,’ positioned a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses over my nose.
I had to look insane. “You’re not serious.”
“Yeah. Animal hats are all the rage. You literally look like everyone else here. Just add this scarf and—”
“I am pretending to be your wife. No one would believe that a man who looks like you would be wandering around the most romantic place in Canada with a girl in cat ears and ski goggles.”
His eyebrow lifted. “A man who looks like me?”
“Oh, come on now. Girls are drooling all over you. They think you’re hot and you know it.”
I could feel his gaze on me deepen while I removed the hat. After taking the green scarf from his hands, I draped it over my head, wrapping the ends around my neck before securing them with a knot. I’d walked past a few ladies outside dressed this way. The scarf concealed my hair and most of my face. The new parka came next. Soon I was swimming in a luxurious cloud of goose down that came down to my knees. The warmth and comfort of it made me sigh.
“Thank you, Thomas,” I said, hugging myself. “I’m instantly warm.”
He wasn’t listening. “And what about you? Do you think I’m hot?” he asked.
I gulped down a massive yes. A screaming to be released from the pit of my stomach yes.
“You’re all right,” I said instead.
&nbs
p; He reached for a lock of hair that had escaped the scarf. His face came close to mine. Too close. His thumb stroked my cheek, and butterflies danced in my stomach as his gaze lowered to my mouth.
“Green suites you,” he said.
Every time he touched me…
I pulled back, but there was minimal space in the bathroom and I bumped into the hand dryer, turning it on. “I’m still mad at you.”
I was. But clearly not enough to push him away when he reached inside the parka to grab hold of my waist. And certainly not angry enough to say no when his hands settled on my lower back, pulling me tight to him. It was a bold move. One he should have been slapped for. It brought our hips impossibly close together and trapped the air in my lungs—making my chest heavy with guilt. Although ‘technically’ I wasn’t in a relationship with Luke anymore, this was wrong. I had to tell Thomas to back off and stop touching me, even though… even though…
“I’m fine with you being mad,” Thomas said. “I won’t let it ruin our date.”
That caught me off guard. “Date?”
“The weirdest date ever, but yeah. You and me, are on a date.”
I fought back the urge to let my hands wander over him and forced my best irritated voice. “Let me go Thomas. We don’t have time for whatever is going on in your head. This isn’t a date. We’re planning a rescue mission.”
He laughed. “You’re so beautiful when you’re trying to be angry at me.”
“Oh, stop it. You are incorrigible and—”
He stole the words off my tongue with his pressing mouth, and I’ll be darned if after the first shock, I didn’t eagerly respond. My body defied me as his fingers slipped under the back of my shirt, making me feel crazed with the heat. Heart racing, common sense flushing down the toilet, my hands were clutching the back of his head, getting wrapped up in the moment and pulling his face to mine. I let my mind drift to a safe place where nobody was searching for me. Nobody was dead in a freezer. Nobody I loved was hiding and fighting to stay alive. There was only Thomas, me, and that promise he made to me at the house sparking madly between us. “Remember our night together?” he murmured, loosening the scarf to nibble at my neck.
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