The Centre
Sub-Level Five Tech Room
Blue Cove, Delaware

"No, sir. I don't know. She's gone. Where? Um...I don't know sir. She left and...No, no she didn't tell me where. Yes, of course I will, and I'll be sure to...Hello?" Broots set the phone down in frustration and finished his interrupted sentence anyways, "I'll be sure to notify you the minute I hear anything, you old pompous windbag!"

"Broots? Who are you talking to?" Sydney asked, walking into the room, holding a mug of coffee.

Broots nearly leaped out of his skin, wondering if his rant had been overheard. He tried to look nonchalant. "Um, nobody. I mean, that was Mr. Parker."

Sydney stopped in his tracks. "Mr. Parker?"

"Yeah," Broots said, putting his hands in his pockets and explaining. "He called looking for Miss Parker. Apparently, he couldn't reach her in her office, at home, in her car, or on her cell phone, so he tried here."

"But you do know where Miss Parker is, don't you, Broots?" Sydney asked, rubbing his chin. "You spoke to Angelo after he gave Miss Parker the map location."

"Me? Well, don't you? I mean, didn't you see the map?" Broots asked.

"I saw the map, Broots. For the space of two seconds. There was no time to read it. But Angelo knows--where is he?" Sydney questioned.

"I don't know," Broots shrugged. "Uh, Sydney."

"Yes, Broots?"

"You won't mention to anyone about...um anything you might of happened to hear me say. Cause I was talking to myself and I didn't mean anything by it. If Mr. Park-" Sydney slapped Broots on the shoulder and said, "Not to worry. These ears don't hear like they used to. I'm going to look for, Angelo. Keep an eye out."

SAFE HOUSE
Somewhere in Michigan

Miss Parker's eyes shot open at the familiar click of her gun. Her sense of peacefulness was shattered. She turned her head swiftly and sat up to see Emily standing next to the bed holding it. She was wearing blue jeans and a slightly oversize gray sweatshirt. Emily was examining the gun intently and when she turned and saw the alarmed look on Miss Parker's face she said, quickly, "Oh, I'm sorry. It's not loaded. Didn't mean to startle you."

Miss Parker gave a short, nervous nod. She felt a small wave of dizziness from moving her head too quickly and eased it back onto the pillow. She caught the sense that Emily, Jarod's sister, had led a very sheltered life. She wondered what it was like...being in hiding since you were born.

Emily set the empty gun down on the nightstand and looked directly at Miss Parker, raising her eyebrows with curiosity. "You're one of them, aren't you?" she asked. "You're part of it. The Centre. The people with guns who chase us."

Miss Parker made no attempt to hide the truth. "Not you...Jarod." She pressed back the guilt that began to press in upon her for she believed she would not have hesitated to use Emily to catch Jarod. She thought for a moment. "Where are the rest of my belongings?"

"Someplace safe." Emily shrugged. "I thought if I brought this for you to see...you would remember."

What was the point of this conversation? Miss Parker thought. Where was it all headed?

"Mother says...you know my brother." Miss Parker made no movement to deny it. Her thoughts were fixed upon the location of her belongings; there was a cell phone among them. Emily's words suddenly registered in her mind and she began to pay attention. "Did you know him when you were little?" Emily asked, quietly.

"Yes," Miss Parker replied, pressing the back of her head against the pillows she was propped up on. She was beginning to feel hungry...and why not? She hadn't had a proper meal in several days.

Emily suddenly remembered something. She walked around the bed and picked up a tray which she placed across Miss Parker's bed. She lifted the cover and a savory smell reached Miss Parker's nostril's. Her mouth watered. There was a rich and warm soup sitting in the bowl in front of her along with various tasty accessories.

"Thought you would be hungry," Emily said, smiling as she saw the way Miss Parker eyed the meal before her. Careful not to tip the tray, she sat down on the edge of the bed. "What was he like? My brother?"

Well, Miss Parker thought, as the young woman handed her a spoon, there was no harm in answering a simple question, now was there? She sipped a spoonful and replied, almost cordially, "What do you mean?"

"Was he a nice boy? The kind who would have protected his little sister?"

"Yes." Miss Parker nearly smiled as Emily's questions caused her to remember days of her childhood. The days she had spent hiding near the sim lab to watch Sydney putting Jarod through his simulations. The times she had visited Jarod secretly and the short conversations they had had. "He let me hold a rabbit once...I wasn't allowed to have one as a pet at home," these words slipped out of her mouth before she was aware she had said them.

At this, Emily seemed to study her intently. "Then--you were friends," she surmised. "And yet, you chase him now, just like the rest of them." Emily brushed her red hair out of her face and seemed distressed.

Friends, Miss Parker thought. Her mind repeated Emily's words unmercifully. You were friends. She felt the iron resolve of her plan weakening within and fought to save it. "I don't have time for friends," Miss Parker whipped out the words, falling into a stony silence afterward. She concentrated her energies on eating, feeling the warm broth enter her mouth and trickle down her throat...trying to empty her mind and think of nothing else. Trying to push away shadows of truths which tugged at her mind.

"How can you say that?" Emily asked her, sadly. "Everyone needs friends. True friends...friends that are forever. Even if we don't get to see them often."

The words touched Miss Parker and she felt tears gathering behind her eyes. She had tried so hard not to think about the childhood friendship between her and Jarod. It was something irrelevant to the chase...and perhaps even hampering. She was the huntress...Jarod was the hunted. She must keep a cool state of mind. She must stay detached. Brigitte had accused her of pursuers' sympathy. The Guesstimator, a man called Jonathan Bink who had once been brought in to assist her on the Hunt had told her, "My guesstimate was you didn't really want to catch him. Not yet anyway." At the Centre, such as these, amounted to weakness. Weakness amounted to elimination. Thus, she had most heartily denied such accusations. But still, a deeper voice inside, whispered to her. Asking the question, to desert a friend...was this not worse still? Yes, Jarod deliberately annoyed her, teased and taunted, even set her up...but underneath it all...didn't he at least show he cared? A thing which her father, Mr. Parker, rarely if ever did show.

Her soup was finished and Emily, noting Miss Parker's silence to her statement in disappointment, silently removed the bowl and left the room.

Miss Parker could no longer hold the storm back. She took a deep breath, but the floodgates broke. The salty rain fell and trickled down her cheeks.

And no one was there to wipe it away.

The house was quiet. Miss Parker slipped silently out her bed and began to search. At last, she found a clothes hamper in the bathroom built off of her room. It was filled with clean laundered garments. She took a shower and then got dressed.

She left the room she had occupied and then looked cautiously out into the hallway. She searched several drawers in the living room and at last found a bag containing her belongings in the bottom drawer. And then, she picked up her cellular phone. Quietly, she slipped back to her room and closed the door.

The Centre was just a phone call away. In a matter of minutes, she could have sweeper teams headed to this location and become woman of the day, capturing Jarod's family after they had managed to avoid capture, year after year. All she had to do was dial.

The Centre,
Blue Cove, Delaware

Mr. Raines was not happy. Once again, Miss Parker had gone off without telling anyone and this made him suspicious. Mr. Parker obviously didn't know where she was, though he had dropped hints and done all he could to subtly push Mr. Parker into initiating a search for her. Mr. Parker's inquiries had come to nothing and thus there was left to him only one recourse.

"Mr. Broots (wheeze) where is Miss Parker?"

"Um...um...um," Broots gulped, breaking out into a sweat. "I don't know. I swear I don't know." He was cornered like a rat. No one was around, but himself and he wished with all his might that Raines would believe him.

"Broots?" Mr. Raines questioned, as Willie moved into the room. "I had hopes that you would be more cooperative before the situation gets too....heated."

Willie took a step towards Broots. Broots suffered flashbacks of a blow torch in another confrontation with Mr. Raines. "Please!" Broots said, dropping to his knees on the floor. "I...I really don't know."

"Well, then that'll be too bad for you, Daddy," Raines began.

Debbie! Broots thought. Would they harm Debbie if he didn't tell even what little he knew. "Alright! Alright!" Broots cried, getting to his feet. "I'll tell you. Just don't hurt my daughter. Miss Parker left. She got a lead on catching Jarod. It's the honest truth...she had some sort of plan to trap Jarod. That's where she's gone...but she didn't tell where. And that's all I know. I swear."

"Good," Raines breathed, heading for the door. Willie followed him. As he wheeled the oxygen tank away, he added, "For now." They would check the Centre flight records and if that failed, the commercial flights. They would speak to everyone who had seen Miss Parker the day she had left. A trail to follow was always left behind...no matter how one tried to cover it up.

Angelo picked up an empty box of Cracker Jacks. He swept his fingers through it feeling the cardboard insides assuring himself that indeed no more of the toffee or bits of popcorn remained. Instantly, he dropped the box and scrambled through the air vents. He crawled through the vents with much self-assurance barely looking at the route he was taking. He knew every twist in the passages by heart.

He had been listening during Broots' interrogation by Raines and was relieved Broots was in no danger. At last, he came to a special part of the vents. Here, he kept a collection of things valuable to him. He fished through the contents of a box, little plastic boats, small iridescent DSA disks, prizes from Cracker Jack boxes; compasses, stickers, etc. and at last came to his assortment of maps.

He picked up a map, stuffed it in his shirt and scrambled through the network of vents. He finally emerged from a ventilation duct, entering Raines' office. As he had expected, no one was there. He turned on the computer. Then, quickly, he scribbled on the map, placed it in the scanner, and then hit send.

He grinned slowly to himself. Jarod would understand.

A/N: Thank you for reading:)