Chapter 11: New York
Tall buildings cut into the light-polluted night sky, flashing past me and Casey as we try to fit into the crowded street. My head's on a swivel, looking for any signs that Candid's officers followed us in here. Only a few police cars have littered the streets tonight, so my guard is let down a little.
Casey suddenly becomes tense, and the scent of her uneasiness is sickening. I crane my neck to see what she's silently pointing at. It's another tall building that doesn't look much different from the others. I've seen it a thousand times and gotten past it a thousand more, so the fact that it's the MRD headquarters doesn't phase me.
So, I guess you could say that Casey and I are hiding in plane sight now.
When the Mustang slides past the building undetected, I feel Casey calm down a good bit. She glances over her shoulder and says breathlessly, "They must not be lookin' that hard, then."
My grip on the wheel tightens. "Oh, they're lookin', petite," I reply. "But Candid's not gonna put his officers in there while the rest of the department's on a manhunt. They'll be in the streets somewhere, probably."
"That's comforting, Remy," Casey sarcastically sighs.
"Yeah. Real comforting."
We drive on for a little longer before we get to heart of the city. Lights blare in our eyes. Traffic thickens. Our guards are raised again. And when we get through without any trouble, both of us really start to get freaked out.
This is getting way too easy.
And with Candid, "too easy" usually means "trap."
What kind of mess are we getting stuck in?
The lights and traffic die down a good bit once we pass through. Both Casey and I can hardly hold our eyes open, so we pull into a not-so-well-lit parking lot, park the Mustang behind a dumpster, and slip in through the back door of a run-down motel.
I'm not about to show my face to the receptionist (it's been plastered all over the country by the national news), so I sneak down the hallway and poke my head around the corner, Casey on my heels. A loud snore comes from the empty lobby, and I soon see the receptionist with his head down on the desk in front of him, out cold.
"Stay here," I whisper to Casey.
Looking back over my head to make sure no one's coming, I sneak around the corner and towards the desk. The room keys are hanging next to each other on the wall behind the receptionist. As quietly as my tired body will let me be, I lean over the side of the desk, snatch the closest key, and shoot off down the hall.
"What was that for?" Casey askes in a whisper.
I wave the key in front of her nose, and she sighs with relief.
After sneaking around for a few minutes, we finally find the room the key goes with. Once the door is shut behind us, I feel the wall for a light switch.
Once the light's on, I can see that it's definitely not the nicest of places I've been to. It's very run down, like the rest of the place. But hey, it's a bed and a pillow for each of us, and that's all I care about.
Casey groggily puts her head on my shoulder, and I pull her into my arms. Both of us want this running business to be over. And by this time tomorrow, I tell Casey, it will be.
She looks up at me and smiles sadly. "I hope you're right, Remy."
"Me too, petite," I say, kissing her forehead. "Me too."
Slowly, she pulls herself away from me and shuffles over to one of the beds. She uses her last bit of energy to yank off her boots and pull up the covers, and as soon as her head hits the pillow, she's asleep. After turning out the light behind me, I make my way over to my bed, yank off my boots, and crash.
My eyes pop open again about a few hours later, and I stare at the ceiling for a second. A few minutes pass by, and I look towards Casey's bed.
She's not there.
I roll over and find her sitting in a chair next to the window. She looks worried.
"Can't sleep, petite?" I whisper to her.
She looks at me sidelong. "I heard sirens," she replies. "And after lying awake for an hour, I kinda gave up."
"I know what you mean, sweetheart."
She sighs. "I haven't been this scared since the night we left." Her face turns towards me, and even though it's dark, I can see and practically smell the fear that's in her eyes.
"Come here," I say, patting the bed next to me. She smiles and gets in beside me, and I pull her into my arms. After planting a kiss on the back of her neck, I whisper, "You know that you've got that door and my back between you and them, right?"
She finds my hand and interlocks her fingers with mine. I feel her nod, and her fear melts away. After a few minutes, I realize she's gone back to sleep.
And as I start to drift off, the last thing I hear is a police siren wailing in the distance.