Chapter Eight

August groaned and rolled over, not wanting to be awake even as his mind crawled further toward awareness. It had felt so good to finally really relax. It seemed like it had been ages since he'd gotten a good night of sleep, and the comfortable mattress and air conditioned room were like Eden. He dragged the hem of the tangled blanket back up over his shoulders, determined to get a little more sleep.

Except he couldn't do that. His mind was warning him, reminding him that he had a bus to catch soon. He wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but since his alarm hadn't gone off yet then he must still have time. Dragging his arm out from beneath his pillow he pressed a button on his watch and it recited, "Five-thirty-eight a-m."

"Shit," he cursed, bolting upright. The bus left at six. "Shit, Anne, wake up." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and scrambled to find his shirt, hastily tugging it over his head. He'd just reached for his bracers when he realized there was no response from the other side of the bed. Frowning, he sat up again. "Anne?" he asked imploringly. Still nothing. Twisting around, he ran his hands over the mattress. He found twisted bedsheets and the warm depression where a body had once been, but no Anne.

"Damn it," he hissed. Immediately he knelt down on the floor beside the bed and plunged his hand into the gap between the mattress and the box spring, where he'd hidden the knife while she was in the shower. There was nothing there. She'd taken the dagger and run. "Damn it," he snapped again. He jammed his feet into his shoes, tied his bracers onto his wrists, and then headed out of the hotel.

He couldn't explain how he knew, but he could just tell where she was at. He backtracked the path they'd taken to get to the hotel from memory and found himself in the bustling crowds of the bus station. People made noises of annoyance as he shouldered his way through, following the strange prickling sensation in his spine. After a minute he caught the scent of grapefruit in the air and he paused, turning toward it. Three steps further and he reached out, catching ahold of her arm.

"Hey, watch …" Anne suddenly trailed off and he felt her tense.

"Hey there, sweetie," August said, smirking at her. "Sorry, I overslept."

He heard Anne let out a heavy breath. "That's all right," she said, patting his hand on her arm. "At least you're here now."

"Good to know you're so relieved," he said with only the faintest trace of sarcasm so the people around them wouldn't notice. "For a minute there I thought you were going to leave without me." By the small grumble Anne made in her throat he could tell that it had fully been her plan. Someone jostled them from behind and August bumped into her from behind. In a swift movement he slipped the knife from beneath the hem of her silk shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his own jeans again. While his mouth was still close to her ear he muttered, "Nice try, princess," before stepping back again.

"Let's just go, yeah?" Anne said, sounding weary and annoyed.

"Okay, but one quick stop before we do," August said. "Is there a stand selling souvenirs or something nearby? I want to buy a pair of sunglasses."

"Why?" Anne asked and he was pleased to hear the surprise and curiosity in her voice.

"Because it's the last thing my brothers would expect me to do," August answered. "They know how much I work not to let people know I'm blind and how I try to be independent. They would never expect me to actually play the role of the blind guy, so they'll never think to ask people if they've seen a man who is obviously blind."

"Glad you're so willing to sacrifice your pride for this," Anne said drolly but she walked them over to a corner of the station. "Here, honey, how about these?" she asked, pressing a pair into his hands.

"They aren't pink, are they?" August asked with a smirk, tracing his fingers over the lines of what felt like a simple pair of unadorned glasses. "Because pink just really doesn't work well with my complexion."

Anne tried to muffle the snort of laughter. "No, they're just black," she said. "Remember, I don't want to embarrass myself in this either and being the girl with the guy in pink shades is not on my agenda."

"Good to know," August said and then handed the sunglasses up to the cashier behind the low counter. Once he'd paid and gotten his change back he broke the tags off the glasses and put them on. "Alright, sweetie, where's the bus?" As they started walking again he added in a lower voice, "And the right terminal, please, since I'm sure you intended to hop on a different bus here."

"Oh you see through me so well," Anne drawled and August couldn't fight a smile at the comment. That was the sort of mocking jab at his blindness that no one else in his life would've dared to make for fear of offending him. Somehow her bluntness was just refreshing.

"Six am to Little Rock," a loud voice called as they walked closer. Well at least he knew they were heading for the right bus. They walked cautiously through the crowd, August grunting as people bumped into him before quickly stammering out apologies. This was why he hated letting people see that he was blind. Hearing their frantic 'sorry's over and over again was really wearing. The morning had already been stressful enough before all of these idiots.

He and Anne found an empty bench near the back of the bus, and he once again put Anne in the window seat. At least this bus was nicer than the last, a fancy charter bus with bucket seats and central air. August sighed and relaxed back into the seat, shutting off his bracers as the close quarters were making them vibrate so much they hummed. Next to him Anne was tense and angry. He felt a none-to-small thrill at having outsmarted her and wasn't afraid of showing his smug grin.

"You know this is going to be a terribly long trip if you're going to be grumpy the whole time," he said teasingly.

"It'll be longer if you keep talking," Anne replied shortly.

August chuckled but let his head fall back against the head rest. Oh well, if she wasn't going to be social then it was just more time for him to sleep. He checked once more to make sure that the dagger was secure inside the back of his jeans - he needed to find a more comfortable way of carrying the thing - before taking a deep breath and letting his muscles unwind.

"How did you find me?" Anne asked abruptly, cutting his rest short.

"Going to the bus station was a pretty easy guess," August said. "You're taking my advice. Travel unpredictably. Since we'd already been to the bus station, the obvious choice would've been to go somewhere I hadn't been yet. Since that's what should've been expected, you went the other direction and came right back to here. Tricky, but still obvious."

Anne muttered a few choice curse words beneath her breath that he still caught. "Let's just face it, princess," he finished, "I'm better at this game than you."

"You're an incorrigible pain in my ass," Anne hissed in reply. "And stop calling me princess." She twisted in the seat so she was facing away from him and then settled into a sullen silence. August just grinned and folded his arms over his chest, closing his eyes and relaxing. He fully intended to take advantage of the cold shoulder and the long drive to get a few more hours of sleep.

. . . . .

A light brush of fingers on his side woke August and he instinctively grabbed the hand trying to pry the dagger from his waistband. "You might as well quit trying, princess," he said. "I'm always gonna win."

Anne gave an indignant huff and jerked her wrist from his grip. "Further proof of the injustices of the world," she grumbled.

Ignoring her response, August straightened up in his seat. "How much longer? We must be getting close if you were willing to risk stealing."

"Twenty miles," Anne said. "And I wasn't stealing; I was reclaiming. It's not yours to possess, remember?"

"So you keep telling me," August said dismissively. He spent the rest of the drive smoothing his wrinkled clothes and trying desperately to tame his loose, curly hair.

When they'd left the bus behind in the Little Rock station, Anne once again took the lead. "There should be a parking garage nearby," August said. "Try to find us a car that looks like it's been there for a while. If we're lucky the owner won't be back to notice it's missing for a few days, and by then we'll be long gone."

"Let's hope this time we get one with air conditioning," Anne said and he was inclined to agree with her there. Being forced to become a fugitive in the middle of summer seemed a very unlucky break.

Not that luck really seemed to be on his side lately anyway.

After wandering around a multi-level garage for several minutes Anne finally stopped them. "It's got about three layers worth of rain spatters on it," she said. "Neglected enough for you?"

"As long as you can get into it without setting off the alarms we're swell," August said, raising an eyebrow.

Anne snorted. "It's not new enough to have an alarm," she said. There were a few jumbled clicks and then the door opened. "See, no problem."

"Impressive," August said with a laugh. He moved closer to the car, one hand extended, and then his hand found it much higher than he was expecting. Curious, he ran his fingers along the outside until he found the door handle. "A truck? Really?"

"Just get in, would you?" Anne said from inside the cab. August rolled his eyes but climbed inside, shutting the door behind him. "Besides, I figured if we're going to be driving through the forest then it might not hurt to have four-wheel drive."

August couldn't argue with her logic, feeling a little irritated that he hadn't thought of it himself. Instead he rolled down the window and leaned his arm on it. He heard Anne rummaging beneath the dash and then the truck's enormous motor ground into life. It was loud and sputtered at first, but then it settled into a steady rhythm. He felt the breeze teasing his skin as she backed the truck out of the stall and then drove out of the garage.

"Would you roll the window back up?" Anne asked. "I've got the air conditioner running." August made a face at her but obligingly put the window up again. The air coming through the vents was stuffy and still warm, but it was at least somewhat cooler than outside. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rest.

"You sleeping again?" Anne asked.

"No, I'm just pretending to so you'll stop talking at me," August answered and shot a pointed look in her direction, forgetting she wouldn't see it through the sunglasses.

"Nice try," Anne said. "But if I have to stay awake to drive then you're going to stay awake with me. Got it?"

"Are you always this bossy, or is it just with the men you like?" August asked sarcastically.

"Only with the people who are incompetent enough to need telling," Anne said coolly. He would've been angry if he hadn't heard the smile in her voice when she said it. "So, do you have any more fascinating stories to tell me about the great adventures of August Anderson?"

"I would except that is classified information," August said. "Which means that I'm not allowed to tell you."

"You're on the run as a suspect of murdering a government director," Anne pointed out drolly. "Do you really think it's possible to get yourself into more trouble?"

"Yes, I could actually commit one of the crimes I'm being charged with," he said simply. "Like trading secrets with the enemy."

"Oh so I'm the enemy again?" Anne asked. "And here I thought I was your girlfriend." When August just smirked and turned his head toward the window she snorted. "You can't still believe I'm a terrorist," she said. "You know I'm not building nuclear warheads beneath my monastery now, so how can you still think I'm a terrorist?"

"Because you're hiding out with some sort of magical time-warping knife," August rebutted. "That's not exactly something I'd consider innocent. Who's to say you haven't used it to commit some sort of crimes? Find out answers and then go back in time to act on them?"

"Except you've used up all the sand," Anne said. "There was only enough in there for two uses, which you used."

"Who's to say there isn't more somewhere, hidden in that monastery of yours?" August said. "Or maybe you have some on you?" And there it was; a faint rustling, clinking sound. She was shifting a necklace. "Don't you know where to get some?"

"From pixies," Anne said with faux enthusiasm. "They come and refill this little bowl I keep on my bedside table every full moon, don't you know?"

August chuckled and shook his head. "Fine then, don't tell me," he said and shrugged.

They rode on in silence for a little while and then Anne said, "You know you really ought to wear your seat belt."

"I can't," August said. "It's broken." He tugged at the belt and it wouldn't come away from the wall. "Nice choice of escape vehicle."

Anne simply laughed. "Well then hold on, because we're only a few miles from the forest trail. You're going to be bouncing around over there."

"Fantastic," August responded dryly and grabbed the handle on the inside of the door. Ten minutes later the truck turned onto a wide dirt track and August felt the ground bumping up and down beneath their tires. He gripped the handle more tightly as he was jostled about in his seat. "Are you purposefully hitting every dip in the road?" he asked irritably.

"Only the deep ones," Anne said. When he made an annoyed noise she added, "I'm joking. Honestly I'm avoiding most of the worst places. This road is a mess." He grumbled again, wincing as he was tossed sideways and hit his head against the window frame. "Need I remind you this was your road of choice?"

"Yes, I remember," August snapped and rolled his eyes. "Only I'd hoped you might be a slightly better driver." This time Anne was the one who made the angry sound. They drove on in silence for a long time; the only noises were the tires scraping over the dirt road and August's grunts as he was thrown around in the passenger seat.

"This is going to be a very long trip if you don't cheer up a little," Anne said mockingly.

"It's going to be a long trip anyway," August replied. "This isn't exactly a small forest."

There was a tinny click and then a hiss of static. Anne muttered to herself as she switched through several channels on the radio, and then she turned it off again. "Well we've definitely reached the part where we're not going to be getting any signals," she said. "You better hope we don't disappear into a black hole or I will haunt you forever."

August snorted derisively. "If we get sucked into a black hole then you're the least of my problems."

The truck jerked roughly to the side and August grunted as his head thumped against the window again. He was just about to comment on the injury when Anne suddenly let out a startled yelp. The world tilted, he felt a rush of vertigo, and then the next thing he knew his head slammed against the dashboard and he lost consciousness.