Chapter 2

While they waited for the promised local driver to arrive, the remaining deputy headed for the back of the bus, armed with a notepad and pen. Bouncing a knee, Jake watched him work his way forward, collecting the names and addresses of the passengers.

After several minutes, when the deputy was still only halfway down the bus, a man dressed in shirtsleeves climbed the steps into the bus. "Jim Davids," he introduced himself as he waved for Jake to vacate the driver's seat. "I'll take it from here, son. Hospital first, right?"

Sliding off the vinyl seat, Jake confirmed their route, all too happy to relinquish the wheel to Davids and head back to Anna. She'd slipped into the seat beside the injured girl. Jake planted himself in the row opposite.

The girl blinked curiously at him, and he offered her an encouraging grin. "You alright?" A bruise was starting to spread out from under the bandaid Anna had applied.

"This is Jake." Anna flapped a hand in his direction. "Jake, this is Robin."

"Hi." Robin's voice barely made it above a whisper.

The deputy with the notepad reached them and Robin gave him an address in Houston. Once the deputy finished writing her details on his pad, he lifted an eyebrow at Anna. To Jake's surprise, she also offered the deputy an address in Houston. He assumed it was her parents'. When it was his turn, he stated his name and then hesitated. What to tell the man? His San Diego location might send up red flags, and he hadn't been to Jericho in five years...

"Same as mine," Anna jumped in, before Jake could figure out what to say. He blinked at her, startled, and she gave him the slightest of shrugs in reply.

"Hm. That so?" The deputy peered from one to the other. Something in their behavior must've raised his suspicions. Anna looked right back at him, her expression innocent. "Alright." The deputy scratched a check mark on his notepad. "Don't forget, as the sheriff said, we'll be wanting to talk to you in the morning."

"Of course," Jake confirmed. Talking to the cops wasn't high on his list of favorite things to do on the best of days, but tomorrow was a full night away, and everything could be different then. And if not...? He'd cross that bridge if he had to.

Having gotten the information he wanted, and having delivered his warning, the deputy moved to the front of the bus to interview the guy in the denim and buttons. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jake leaned toward Anna, wanting to ask her why she'd told the deputy he was living with her. But Robin was peering past her shoulder, and Jake checked himself. He didn't want to get into it within the girl's hearing. Later, he promised himself, straightening up. Perhaps it was as simple as Anna also realizing that giving the authorities the address for his San Diego apartment wasn't a good idea. It was bound to be listed as the scene of a suspicious death.

"Jake? What do you think happened?" Robin asked shyly, distracting him from further speculation. She didn't have to explain what she meant: the terrifying cloud they'd seen rise up was still foremost on everyone's mind.

"Dunno." Jake raised his shoulders. "Could be anything. Could be―."

"Next stop: hospital, going on to the Holiday Inn," Davids' cheerful announcement cut him short.

With a jolt, the bus began moving. Looking out the window, Jake spotted the deputy who'd taken their names trotting up the steps into city hall.

It was less than two miles to the hospital, and the ten minutes it took to make it there passed in silence. Jake spent the time contemplating the mushroom cloud. He didn't want to instantly assume the worst, but no matter how he came at it, it looked very bad. No matter the cause―an attack or an accident―something had gone horribly wrong near Dallas.

The bus drew to a stop at the bottom of the hospital drive. Davids hit the control that opened the doors and pivoted in his seat, seeking out Jake's gaze across the rows of chairs. "Sorry, I'm gonna have to let you guys off here." He dipped his head toward the drive, drawing Jake's attention to the fact it was blocked by a clutter of cars parked at crazy angles, as if their drivers had simply abandoned them where they stood. A pair of orderlies pushing a gurney wove their way through the tangle, presumably to remove the body and take it to the hospital morgue. "Get a doctor to take a look at that cut, okay?" Davids gave Robin a wink and a smile, and she ducked her head shyly.

Jake got to his feet. "Will do." While Anna started helping Robin out of her seat, he went back to where he'd stashed his and Anna's bags on the overhead rack hours ago.

Robin hesitated at the top of the steps. "What about my suitcase?"

"Don't trouble yourself with that, sweetie. We'll take care of it," Davids promised. He swiveled in his seat, looking for confirmation from Jake as he collected his bag and Anna's carry-on.

Robin looked back at Jake, chewing her bottom lip. He waved reassuringly at her; he and Davids would see she got her suitcase.

"Poor thing," the old lady muttered, watching Robin and Anna descend from the bus and start up the drive toward the ER entrance. She turned and smiled up at Jake, her eyes moist. "You're an angel, looking out for her."

"Um..." Unsure what to say, Jake ducked his head and concentrated on hoisting his and Anna's bags onto his shoulder. His cheeks were burning. If only she knew what he'd done...

Hurrying to the front of the bus, the bags bumping against his ribs, he was met with a frown fromDavids. "That all?"

Jake shook his head. "No, that's just us. I believe Robin's bags are below."

"Ah, in the belly of the beast." Davids clambered out of the bus ahead of Jake and fumbled around in the darkness until he located the catch to the luggage compartment. Inside, an assortment of bags and suitcases were jumbled untidily in a corner, thrown there by the emergency stop. Jake grimaced at the sight. He had no idea what size or color Robin's suitcase was and they'd have to check the label of every piece of luggage.

Davids saw his expression. "You're going to the Inn when you're done here, right? I could leave her suitcase at reception. She can pick it up there later."

"Thanks, that'd be great." Jake gave Davids' a relieved smile, though he couldn't help wonder if the offer was a subtle way to ensure all the bus passengers would do as the sheriff had told them to and none of them would slip away into the night. Didn't matter; he had no plans to sneak away. Where could they go, anyway? He and Anna had no transport, and Vernon had looked pretty chaotic and unsettled. Not a place he wanted to run around in.

No, for tonight they were stuck, same as everyone else. They'd be okay, too, as long as they were gone before their names got entered into the system and Ravenwood was alerted to their whereabouts. That'd take a while: the sheriff's office had more pressing concerns than data processing. Besides, with the emergency generators running, they likely wouldn't have their network up anyway.

No, for a short while at least, he and Anna were as safe as could be.

Davids slammed the luggage compartment closed and, waving a final farewell to Jake, clambered back on board. Jake watched the bus's tail lights for a few seconds as it ambled on in the direction of the hotel. Then he turned and, tracking after the orderlies, who'd collected the dead driver's body while Jake and Davids had been busy with the luggage, slogged up the hospital drive.

Through the front doors, the waiting room carried the typical hospital smell. despite the potted plants that tried to create a homey atmosphere: a mixture of anti-septic and unwashed bodies. The place was packed, and the dozen or so plastic seats that had been placed around the walls were all occupied.

Anna was arguing with a harried-looking woman behind a counter, while Robin sat in one of the chairs, kicking her leg and looking lost. Jake made his way over to her, at the same time taking stock of the room. An old man in the corner rasped with a bad cough as he glanced in Jake's direction; next to him was a boy with his parents. The kid's cheeks were streaked with dried tears and from the way he cradled his arm, it looked like he'd broken his wrist. A young woman limped past Jake, helped by a nurse, aiming for a curtained-off treatment room. Other clumps of people were scattered around the room, talking among themselves in low and urgent voices. Jake reckoned the Dallas cloud was the main topic of conversation, and that everyone was scared and unsettled.

"Hey."

Robin slowly raised her head at Jake's approach. Her gaze zoomed in on his hands, registering he was only carrying his and Anna's bags, and a small line formed between her brows.

"Your suitcase'll be waiting at the hotel," Jake explained quickly, knowing what she must be thinking. "The driver said he's gonna leave it there for you."

Robin's frown stayed in place. She scrubbed at her face, wincing when she accidentally touched the makeshift bandage covering the cut. "I don't think I have enough money to pay for a hotel."

Jake dropped the bags and knelt in front of her, squeezing her knee comfortingly. "We'll work something out. Don't worry about it, alright?" He saw she was holding a cellphone in her other hand and he nodded at it. "Were you trying to call someone?"

"My mom." Her voice was small. "She was gonna pick me up at the bus depot. I don't want her to worry when the bus doesn't show up, but I got no signal."

"The system is probably overloaded: too many people trying to make calls." Jake smiled encouragingly. Better not to remind her she wasn't supposed to use her cellphone inside a hospital anyway; she was plenty rattled as it was. "I'm sure one of the company staff at the depot in Houston will tell your mom what happened and that the bus had to go back to Vernon."

"You think?" She shifted the phone to her other hand and rubbed her palm on her jeans.

"...all she needs is a couple stitches." Anna's voice cut through the general din in the waiting room. She sounded exasperated. Jake twisted around on his heels to look at the counter.

"Ma'am, are you a doctor?" The woman behind the counter was arching an eyebrow, giving Anna a quick once-over. Jake smiled to himself; he'd seen Anna stand up against drunk frat students, and he doubted the receptionist would find her easily cowed.

"Well, no, but―."

The double doors leading into the reception area slammed open, and a panicked voice hollered, "Help! We need a doctor! Bill got shot!"

Conversations cut off abruptly and everyone faced the door. A large man with a shock of blond hair was half-carrying, half-dragging a second man in, propping him up with his own body. Jake judged they were both in their late forties. It was hard to tell, as they were both covered in blood. Wild-eyed, the blond took in the waiting room. The wounded man, his arm slung across the blond's shoulder, was barely conscious, and from the amount of blood, Jake could tell he was badly injured.

The woman behind the counter sprang into action, abandoning Anna and hurrying over. From further down the hallway, other staff came running up, alerted by the shout for help. An orderly dragged an empty gurney toward the men. For all it was a small town medical center, they were efficient, Jake had to give them that. Within a minute, orderlies were rolling the gurney off, presumably to a treatment room, leaving a shocked silence behind. The receptionist was trying to calm the blond man, who kept mumbling, "I didn't mean to do it, I thought he was a burglar," over and over.

After several minutes, the blond man had gathered his composure enough that the receptionist could direct him to a chair, after ordering the father of the boy with the broken wrist to give it up. The blond man flopped into it like a rag doll, hands dangling between his knees and eyes turned toward the floor. With the crisis controlled for the moment, the receptionist returned to her station behind the counter. She blinked at Anna, as if she didn't recall what Anna was doing there. Then she shoved a clipboard into Anna's hands. Due to the hush that had fallen over the room at the arrival of the two men, Jake could hear every word clearly. "Please, ma'am, fill this out, and a doctor will look at your daughter as soon as one is available."

That could be a while; Jake doubted they had more than one or two doctors on ER duty at the best of times. With the waiting room full and a gunshot emergency brought in, it'd be hours before anyone was free to see to Robin.

Anna accepted the clipboard, the receptionist leaving her little choice. "She's not my daughter." She sounded startled at the suggestion she looked old enough to be the mother of a fifteen year old.

The receptionist pressed her lips together unhappily. "In that case, I need to see a medical release from one of the girl's parents, or a guardian." She snatched the clipboard back out of Anna's grip.

Jake got to his feet. "Hang in there, kiddo," he muttered in Robin's direction. "Be right back."

"I―I don't have one of those." Anna heaved a tired breath. She put her purse on the counter and leaned forward. "Please, I just met her on the bus to Houston. There was a... an accident, and Robin needs help."

The receptionist shook her head. "I'm sorry, Miss." She put the clipboard behind the counter. "Without a release, I can't―."

"Excuse me," Jake broke in. He held out his hand, giving a nod in the direction of the clipboard. "Can I have that?" The nurse hesitated and Jake lied, "I'm her father." Under normal circumstances, it would've stretched credibility―if perhaps not by much―but he'd caught his reflection in the window as he'd walked into the hospital, and he figured that thirty-six hours without proper sleep, twenty-four of which he'd spent crammed into various bus seats, had aged him enough the receptionist wouldn't question his statement. Belatedly, he prayed Anna hadn't told the woman anything that would put the lie to his words.

Giving him another wary once-over, the receptionist reluctantly passed him the clipboard. Jake let out a quiet breath. Anna was staring at him, and he put a hand on her arm. He didn't want her to accidentally betray him. "Thank you, I'll handle it. If you could sit with Robin for a short while longer...?" He gave a slight tilt of his head in Robin's direction, hoping that he sounded adequately distant to make the receptionist believe Anna was a stranger he hadn't met until today.

Anna shot the woman behind the counter a last, baleful glare, pivoted on her heel and marched over to join Robin without a word.

Jake offered the receptionist an apologetic half smile. "I asked her to keep an eye on Robin. I guess she took it more seriously than I expected." The woman hmm'ed under her breath, but she accepted his explanation.

Dipping a head at the clipboard in his hand, she told him, "Sorry, you'll have to find your own pen. We're making do, what with the power being out." She waved vaguely at the computer on her desk, its screen blank. Jake understood; without a clue how long it would take for the power to be restored, the emergency generator would be dedicated to powering vital services such as respirators and heart monitors.

Taking the clipboard with him, he sauntered back to Robin and Anna. During his absence, the seat next to Robin had been vacated, and Anna had taken it. Jake knelt on the floor in front of them, balancing the clipboard on his knees. He reached for his duffel, intent on digging for the pen he thought he'd packed.

"Why did you tell her that?" Anna asked.

Jake shrugged bashfully. "It was the quickest way to handle it."

What was important was to get Robin stitched up as soon as possible, so they could walk to the hotel and get some sleep. Anna was pale, her eyes bruised. Robin appeared ready to fall over from fatigue. And Jake knew he didn't look any better himself. Trying to fight the health care system's bureaucracy would've taken precious time, while a simple lie would quickly cut a path through it. He only hoped he'd be forgiven for telling the white lie, and that it wouldn't come back and bite him.

"If they find out―," Anna started in a hushed whisper.

"―we'll be long gone," Jake finished for her. Locating the pen, he clicked it on and reached for the clipboard.

He glanced up at Robin. "I'm gonna need your help with this." He tapped the pen against the admission form on the clipboard. Telling the nurse he was the girl's father was one thing; he wasn't gonna risk her life by lying about her medical history.

Robin had been shifting her focus from him to Anna and back as they talked. Realizing she hadn't overheard what he'd said to the receptionist, he explained how he'd lied to the hospital about being Robin's father.

She giggled. "You're a lot cuter than my real dad."

Anna uttered a soft noise that was half a laugh, and Jake offered Robin an embarrassed grin, feeling the tips of his ears grow warm. He dipped his head, concentrating on the questions on the form, and filling in the information Robin provided as he read them to her.

Once he was done, he took the clipboard back to the counter. The receptionist scanned the form. "No insurance?"

"I'll pay in cash." Trying to invent credible insurance policy numbers and company names had proved an impossible task for his already fatigued brain; rather than risking the hospital discovering he'd lied before they'd treated Robin, Jake had decided to use Freddy's money. He didn't like dipping into those funds, which were supposed to go to Anna's baby, but this was an emergency. Anna hadn't objected, either, when he'd suggested it; Jake reckoned she'd taken a liking to the girl, and being able to do something to help her made her feel less powerless.

God knows he could sympathize.

The receptionist made another dubious humming noise, but she scribbled a few words on the clipboard and put it into a rack filled with a half dozen similar boards. "We'll call your name when the doctor can see her."

o0o

As Jake had feared, several hours passed before a harried doctor could deal with Robin's injury. He did a handful of quick tests, waving a pen in front of her face and telling her to follow it without moving her head, and declared she didn't have a concussion. Less than five minutes after he came to see her, he'd moved on to the next patient, leaving it to a nurse to sew up Robin's cut with a couple stitches. In a way, it was all disappointingly anticlimactic, but Jake wasn't complaining. Just a few minutes later, Robin was released, sporting a fresh new bandage over her injury and clutching a bottle of tylenol to relieve any further pain.

The streets they trudged along toward the Holiday Inn had emptied during the long hours they'd been stuck at the hospital. If he hadn't been so dog tired, Jake would've enjoyed the quiet walk. But it was well past midnight by the time they plodded into the hotel reception. Several lit candles stood on the counter; a computer, currently blank-screened and useless, sat on the desk behind the counter. Near the door, a small red suitcase stood forlornly.

"Oh!" Robin let out a small squeal of pleasure at the sight, and Jake was glad to see Davids hadn't forgotten his promise to leave her suitcase in reception. One less thing to worry about.

The night clerk, a short man with small, squinty eyes, peered up at them suspiciously as they entered. He was lounging in an office chair, with his feet up on the counter, and abandoned the magazine he was absorbed in only reluctantly. "Help you?" he asked brusquely.

Jake moved up to the counter. "Three singles, please." He pretended not to notice the picture of a naked woman on the magazine's cover when the clerk folded it closed. The clerk raked him up and down with a narrow-eyed gaze, before shifting his attention to Anna and Robin next. For reasons Jake couldn't entirely pinpoint, he had to fight the urge to take a step sideways and block the guy's view. After a long minute, the clerk drawled, "Sorry, only got one room left. Twin beds."

Jake groaned inwardly. They couldn't seem to get a break today, could they? He half-turned toward Anna, not knowing what she'd want him to do.

She met his eye. "Do it. We'll manage."

"Alright, we'll take it." Jake turned back to the clerk.

With a grunt, the man pushed up from his chair and produced a small notepad from beneath the counter, one of those old-fashioned registry pads, with a carbon sheet to make a copy as you wrote. He located a pen, and slid both toward Jake, announcing, "That'll be three hundred dollars for the night."

"What?" Jake gaped at him.

The clerk smirked. "Including breakfast."

"That's―."

"A rip-off." Anna strode up, joining Jake at the counter. She was standing near enough he could feel her vibrating with suppressed fury. She sucked in a gulp of air. "The sheriff said we should―."

The clerk barked a harsh laugh. "Kobler? Go take it up with him, if you want. This is still a free country, and he doesn't run the place." He leaned forward and planted his palms on the counter. Jake caught an unpleasant whiff of a smoker's stale breath as he hissed, "No, lady, today, it's all about supply and demand. But hey," he pulled back, "you're welcome to go someplace else."

Jake clenched his jaw to keep from telling the clerk to go screw himself. Dallas had gone up in smoke tonight; hundreds of thousands people could be dead; and this prick was price gouging? But they had no choice: they were dead on their feet, without a car, and it was far too late to go find another place to stay.

"Not acceptin' plastic, either. I'm gonna want to see cash." The clerk waggled his eyebrows. "Unless the lady's willing to pay in kind..."

At first, Jake's tired brain refused to process what the clerk had said. Then outrage boiled up within him, and he moved to haul the clerk over the counter and pound some respect into the creep. Anna put a restraining hand on his arm, softly urging him, "Jake..."

Every muscle tense, hands curled into fists, Jake drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, fighting to get his fury under control. Anna was right. While he wanted nothing more than to teach this jerk a lesson, getting into a scrap with the hotel clerk wasn't going to serve any other purpose than making him feel better.

Aware he had no choice, and bitterly aware the clerk knew it too, Jake forced himself to unclench his fingers. Through gritted teeth he forced out, "We'll pay cash."

At least the clerk had the sense to not gloat; Jake didn't think he could've been held responsible if the greedy thief had shown his triumph. Turning his back on the man, he unearthed Freddy's envelope from his jacket pocket, where he'd stashed it after he'd gotten it back from Anna so he could pay for Robin's treatment, and counted out three hundred dollar bills. He hesitated before putting the envelope away. He should give it back to Anna; the money was hers.

No. He stuffed the money back in his jacket. Better he hold on to it for a little longer for safekeeping. At least until they were out of sight of the thief behind the counter.

The clerk counted the bills slowly, before putting one in a desk drawer and folding the other two and stashing them in his pants pocket. He reached behind him, taking the last key hanging on the rack, and handed it over to Jake. "Lucky thing we still use them old-fashioned keys, huh?" He sketched a vague wave at the candles he'd lit around the office. "Or we'd've had to close up shop."

"Wouldn't that've been a shame." Anna mumbled the words so quietly Jake reckoned only he heard them. He swallowed down a humorless chuckle and accepted the key without further acknowledging the clerk. Passing the key on to Anna, he grabbed their luggage again, adding Robin's suitcase to his load, and followed Anna and Robin out.

"Can you believe that?" Anna burst out. The door had hardly fallen shut behind them. "Those rates are crazy!" Her voice shook with anger.

"Nothing we can do about it." Jake was dimly amused it was the price gouging upsetting her and not the creep's lascivious behavior. "Let's get some sleep, alright?" He was too tired to get all worked up.

Anna's face was a pale blur in the dark night. He saw the fight go out of her, her shoulders slumping forward. "It's just, jerks like that make me―aargh!" She made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat, balled her fists and shuddered. Jake couldn't help but grin―he'd never seen her so mad―and she awarded him a wry smile at her own expense.

"Where's our room?" Robin yawned, falling asleep where she stood. Poor kid was so tired, she probably hadn't caught half of the argument with the hotel clerk. Jake was glad of it; she'd been worried enough how she'd be able to pay for a hotel room without discovering they were getting robbed to boot.

Anna held up the key, squinting at the numbers etched into the hard plastic label. With the power off, the lot had been plunged in darkness. Fortunately, the sky was clear: while the moon was only a thin sliver of silver, the stars provided enough illumination for her to make out the inscription. "Room twelve," she announced.

They located their room, on the ground floor, at the end of the square concrete building. Anna unlocked the door, and she and Robin entered ahead of Jake. The curtains were drawn and it was even darker inside. Anna and Robin were black shapes in the gloom.

"Jake?" Anna's voice floated back to him. "Did you happen to bring a flashlight?"

"No." He cursed softly under his breath; it had never occurred to him they'd need one when he was packing his bags in such a hurry to leave San Diego. But it was going to be very awkward for the three of them to move around if they couldn't see a hand in front of their face. He struggled to come up with a solution, but before he'd gotten his brain working, he heard the rustle of clothing, followed immediately by a greenish glow that cast a pale sheen across the room.

"Cell phone." Robin held the device up for him to see. In the sickly cast laid over her skin by the backlit screen, her expression was pleased, almost smug.

Jake grinned back. "Smart thinking." The amount of light the phone gave wasn't much, but in the pitch blackness of the hotel room, it was as if she'd switched on a spotlight. Glancing around, Jake saw the room was what you'd expect from a standard, generic hotel room: two beds, neatly made; a small writing desk; and a pair of uncomfortable-looking armchairs grouped with a tiny coffee table. A door opposite from him, barely visible, led to what he presumed was the bathroom.

Jake put the bags on the nearest bed. "I'll see if our friend at the desk can lend us a candle or two." Anna betrayed her opinion of Jake's chances with a dismissive snort, but Jake was determined to get his way in this. They could make do with two beds for the three of them, but they'd need better light than Robin's cell phone could provide.

As he'd expected, the clerk tried to charge him for the use of the candles. Jake refused to budge. Without Anna to hold him back, he leaned over the counter to snatch a handful of the man's shirt and he pulled him close until the clerk reluctantly scrabbled around for a couple of stubby candles and a box of matches.

Returning with the candles, Jake took renewed stock of the room. Coffee making facilities were neatly stacked together on the desk. The machine would be useless without electricity, but the two saucers would make for decent candle holders. Grabbing them, he struck a match and touched it to the first candle's wick. He waited for the wax to melt and then let a few drops fall onto a saucer to secure the candles' butt end. He lit the second candle from the first and did the same. The soft, warm light of the twin flames caused shadows to dance on the walls.

Jake straightened. "You should switch your phone off." A tiny red light was blinking on the bedside table, where Robin had put her phone. "You don't want to run the battery down."

Robin's hands twitched. "What if my mom tries to call?"

Jake had no answer for her. The landlines were down―he'd tried the pay phone in the hotel's lobby―and judging by the Trying to Connect message blinking on the cellphone's display, so were the cell towers. With no idea when the electricity would be back on, or if the cell phone network would reactivate with it, he couldn't predict when Robin's mother's call might get through.

Robin blinked at him unhappily, tears filling her eyes as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hands plucking at the seams of her jeans. "Is―is my mom gonna be okay?"

Anna paused in searching through her overnight bag. "Your mom's in Houston, right?"

"Uh-huh."Robin gave a sniveling nod. "My parents got divorced last year. I was staying with my dad, but he had to go on a trip, so I'm going back home to stay with my mom."

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Anna clutched a clean shirt to her chest. "The explosion we saw happened near Dallas. Right, Jake?" She signaled for him to pass her one of the candles.

Jake wasn't as certain that Houston was fine as Anna was. They had no real clue what had happened, and until they did, anything was possible. But Robin was peering at him hopefully, her eyes large and shining. Uncertainty be damned, Jake wasn't planning to make it worse for her with useless speculation. "Yes, that was Dallas." He picked up one of the saucers, shielding the candle's flame with his hand.

"Was..." Robin frowned. "Was that a nuclear bomb? Those look like that, don't they? In the movies, and stuff..." Her voice trailed off.

"Any really big explosion kinda looks like that, I think." Jake carried the candle to the bathroom. He paused on the threshold. "Listen, we don't know what happened, and guessing isn't gonna make us any wiser. In the morning, the sheriff'll have further information. And then we can take it from there."

o0o

Jake woke with a start, sore and aching. The room was dim, subdued daylight filtering through the curtains. He tried to gauge the time; he couldn't have had more than a few hours of sleep. Wriggling stiffly, he unfurled himself from the armchair he'd slept in. His spine popped as he sat up, and he grimaced.

Anna had suggested Robin take one bed and he share the second one with her. Jake had declined the offer. The beds were narrow twins and Freddy had died on his floor less than forty-eight hours ago; it hadn't seemed right. Anna had rolled her eyes at him, telling him without words he was being silly. But she hadn't pressed the issue. Stretching his creaking muscles, he regretted his decision.

Tugging the curtains open a little, letting weak sunlight flood the room, he discovered Anna's bed was rumpled, but empty. Where could she have gone?

A knock and a thump, and then the sound of retching drifted from the bathroom. Jake padded over on socked feet and rapped on the door. "Anna? You okay?"

"I'm fine." Her voice was a touch strangled.

"You sure?" The sounds he'd heard suggested anything but fine. "Can I get you anything?"

"Yes. No. Just go away and leave me alone." The flushing of the toilet―thank God they had running water, even if it was cold―nearly drowned out the last word.

Jake hovered uncertainly at the bathroom door, debating whether to go in, until it occurred to him what was likely wrong. It had to be morning sickness. A flush of relief, mixed with helplessness, washed over him: it wasn't something he could help her with, but at least she wasn't really sick, either.

"Is Anna okay?" Robin's sleepy question made him turn away from the bathroom. She was blinking blearily at him, rubbing at her eyes.

"She'll be fine. Sorry I woke you." The girl had fallen asleep the instant her head touched the pillow. Not surprising after all she'd been through.

"s Kay." Yawning, Robin twisted around and snatched her cell phone from the night stand to check the display. Her face fell. "Still no service."

"Power's still out, too." Jake flicked the light switch up and down a few times. The display on the alarm clock on the nightstand was also dead. "How's your head?"

Robin fingered the bandage on her scalp. "Better, I think. It doesn't hurt so bad." Her stomach took that moment to growl so loudly that Jake could hear it in the quiet room, and she grinned wryly, cheeks coloring. "I'm hungry."

"So I hear." He grinned back at her. They'd all gone to bed hungry. The vending machines couldn't operate without electricity, so they'd made do with the chocolate bars and tiny bags of peanuts they'd discovered in the small fridge under the desk. You were supposed to pay for them separately, but for three hundred bucks a night, Jake figured the hotel could throw in the snacks for free. "Wanna go see if we can find something to eat?"

"Okay." She made to fling off the covers. "Um...?" As she glanced shyly at Jake, her blush deepened.

"Gimme a second, and I'll wait outside." Jake searched around for his boots, locating them under the desk, and stuffed his feet into them. Just as he was ready to leave and let Robin get dressed, the bathroom door opened and Anna walked out, wearing in an oversized T-shirt that reached to mid-thigh. Her face was pale, bruises visible under her eyes. "Are you―?" Jake began.

She offered him a glare and he snapped his mouth shut.

"Jake and I are going to look for breakfast," Robin announced, blithely unaware. "You coming?"

At the mention of breakfast, Anna paled further, and for a second Jake thought she might faint. He tensed, ready to spring to catch her.

"I think I'll skip it, thanks." Anna swallowed, hard.

What the heck was the cure for morning sickness? Would it be different from other types of nausea? His mom had always fed him Coke and salty crackers when he was sick. "You want us to bring you anything?" Not that he had any idea if they'd find anything to eat. On the other hand, the power had been out for less than twelve hours. There was no reason to think the motel couldn't serve some kind of food to its guests.

Anna started shaking her head. Thinking better of it, she allowed, "Maybe crackers. Or toast."

Glad he could do something, Jake promised, "We'll find something." Anna crawled back into bed, and Jake quickly finished tying off his bootlaces and went outside to give Robin a chance to put on her clothes.

She came out five minutes later. Letting the murmur of many voices guide them, the two of them soon came across the small room set aside for breakfast. In spite of the sun streaming in through the windows, it was still dim inside with the lamps off. A plump woman bustled round overseeing the buffet that had been set up against one wall of the room. As soon as she spied Jake and Robin, she waddled up, greeting them with a warm smile that made her eyes crinkle. Her name tag identified her as Doris Cramer.

She took in the bandage plastered to Robin's temple with a small frown. "Sweetie, are you alright?" Without bothering to wait for a reply, she went on, "Sorry to say we have no coffee." She gestured in the direction of the table where the food was set out. "Or fresh rolls. Or waffles or pancakes or bacon either." For a heartbeat, her face scrunched up in dismay at having to tell them this, before her smile reappeared. "We do have juice and crackers and fruit, and I kept the store room locked overnight, so the milk for the cereal is still cool." She gestured them toward the buffet table. "Eat, eat as much as you can. Feel free to pack yourselves a lunch too. It'll all be spoiled tomorrow anyway, if the electric doesn't get fixed soon."

Jake couldn't help return her smile. The woman's friendly demeanor was such a far cry from the sullen greed of the night clerk, it was rather disorienting, as if he'd woken up in a different world. Was she aware of the kind of high room prices the clerk had charged her guests?

Taking another look at the guests milling around by the buffet, selecting bowls and carrying glasses filled with beverages, Jake recognized several people from the bus. "Has there been any news about what happened?"

Doris' smile faltered. "Haven't heard a peep. The phones aren't working, and without the electric―." She busied herself straightening a pile of paper napkins. "Was a horrible sight, wasn't it? That cloud? Terrible, terrible thing." She shuddered. "They say the governor's declared an emergency. And my cousin said her neighbor's boy spotted tanks going south from Quanah early this morning." She wrung her hands. "National guard, he said."

At the far end of the buffet, one of the guests dropped a glass and it shattered on the tile floor with a loud clatter. The room fell into a hushed silence, everyone staring in the direction of the noise. Doris swiveled on her heel toward the commotion.

"Never you mind that," she comforted the guest who'd dropped the glass and was gawking at the puddle of juice on the floor in consternation. "Just a little accident. No harm done." She redirected her attention briefly to Jake and Robin. "Excuse me, I've to go..." She waved toward the mess. "I'm by myself this morning, you see. None of the staff have showed up for work." She sighed and gave another shoulder roll. "I guess they all have important things to do at home, eh?"

Not giving Jake a chance to respond, she bustled off to get a mop and went to clean up the spilled juice and sharp glass shards. Robin watched her go. "Wow..." She giggled behind her hand.

Jake grinned. Though she wasn't half as skinny, Doris reminded him of Gracie Leigh, who could also gossip a mile a minute while she packed up your groceries... A pang of unexpected homesickness stabbed him. He hadn't felt that in a good while. And why would he think of Gracie all of a sudden?

He gestured toward the buffet table, and suggested to Robin, "Let's get something to eat." Spying a basket filled with cellophane-wrapped crackers, he added, "And take some of those for Anna."

Robin's amusement over their cheerful hostess faded and a wrinkle formed between her brows. "Is Anna sick? She's gonna be okay, right?"

"I think so." Jake gathered a handful of the crackers and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. He added a couple of single serving jam containers and peered around to see if he could spot any bottled juice or water. "She's not sick, she's pregnant."

"Oh..." Robin poured cereal into a bowl and added milk. She stirred it in silence. "Is she your wife?"

"What?" At first, Jake didn't understand what she was talking about. "No. No, Anna's―." He paused. Freddy's fiancée. Was Freddy's fiancée. Freddy, who'd gotten killed because Jake had convinced him to stand up to Ravenwood. "It's a long story." He suddenly wasn't hungry any longer.

Robin's face made it clear she wanted to ask more questions but something in Jake's gaze warned her Jake didn't want to talk about it and she went to search for a spoon for her cereal without another word.

While Robin discovered the silverware and found a place at one of the tables to sit, Jake stayed to take stock of the rest of the food on display and attempted to decide what he wanted. Scratching the stubble on his chin―he hadn't had time to shave yet―he suppressed a yawn: he'd give his right arm for a cup of coffee. Finally, he settled on a pre-packaged carton of yoghurt―strawberry, the lid said―and a piece of fresh fruit, and poured a glass of orange juice.

Juggling his haul, he joined Robin at the table. The elderly couple from the bus was sitting nearby. The Tuckers, they'd told the deputy their name was. They'd been traveling to Dallas from Albuquerque to visit their daughter and grandchildren. The gray-haired Beatles fan was standing at their table, talking to them. What was his name again? Jake raked his brain. Harper, right. This morning, Harper had ditched the jacket; he was dressed in a white T-shirt, frayed at the collar. He looked unconcerned, a sharp contrast to the older couple, who were frazzled, as if they hadn't had any sleep.

Mr Tucker patted his wife's hand gently. "Honey, Linda and the boys are fine." By his tone, he was trying to convince himself as much as his wife.

"I'm gonna go by the bus station," Harper announced, taking a large bite of one of the frosted cinnamon rolls from the buffet. Speaking around a mouthful of roll he added, "I reckon Greyhound owes me a ride to Houston."

Mr. Tucker dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "We were going to Dallas. I don't know, maybe we'd be better off going home again."

"What if Linda needs us?" his wife asked. She moved her hands into her lap, folding them together tightly.

He touched her arm. "Honey, if we were to go to Dallas, we'd only get in the way of any relief efforts."

"We could stay here?" she suggested. "At least for a day or two? And once the phones are working again, we can call Linda and she can come pick us up?"

Harper's brows drew together in skepticism. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut and didn't trample on Mrs Tucker's hopes that her daughter and grandchildren were all right. Spying Jake watching them, he waved him to come over. "Hey, you. Jake... It is Jake, right? We're discussin' our options. What're you and that pretty lady of yours plannin' to do?"

Mrs Tucker's head swiveled on her thin neck as she looked around the room. "I don't see her... Hello, sweetie." She bestowed a tremulous smile on Robin.

"Anna's not feeling so great this morning." Jake put the food he'd collected on Robin's table. "And we haven't talked about what we should do yet." He didn't expect it would require a lot of discussion: he was pretty certain that Anna would insist on going on to Houston. Her parents were there, and she had nowhere else to go. As for his own plans, nothing had changed. He'd deliver her safely to her family and then head north to Kansas. Confirm that everyone back there was all right. "Go on, I guess."

"What do you think we should do?" Mrs Tucker wanted to know from him. "Stay put? Go home to Albuquerque?" She blinked up at him expectantly, as if trusting him to have all the answers.

"Um..." Jake stuttered. "Ma'am, I honestly couldn't tell you." Until they got further information about what had happened, it was impossible to make decisions. "I'd suggest we make for the sheriff's office and learn what they can tell us before deciding."

Her husband nodded sagely, glad to have someone give him direction. "Yes, yes. The sheriff said he'd see about getting us on our way, didn't he? Honey, that's what we should do." He helped his wife to her feet and together, they shuffled from the room, her hand resting on his forearm for support.

Harper huffed as he watched them leave, and muttered, softly enough that the Tuckers wouldn't hear him, "Good luck with gettin' that damned sheriff to get you home." He tilted his head to squint up at Jake, who was a couple inches taller. "Best be goin', too. See you around?"

"Sure." Harper had also been going to Houston, and a part of Jake said they should hook up. Safety in numbers and all that. But there was something about the man that set off his inner alarm bell. He didn't know what―surely it wasn't the Beatles button―so he simply kept his mouth shut as Harper, snatching another cinnamon roll from the buffet, strode out.

o0o