Halstead is a quiet man. He's a man that prefers to sit back, blend in and observe. But, considering he's the only person she knows and she'll be spending half a year with him, she'd like it if he said something, if he started a conversation or actually looked interested when she did. They barely spoke at her apartment. They didn't speak at all during the ride to the airport. And the flight to a small-town airport was filled with conversation only deemed necessary: rules, plans and expectations. She was assigned an agent that was by the books, completely opposite from what she's used to, being raised by a man that saw the world in gray, a man that was willing to proudly break rules if it benefited him. Erin and Jay hardly looked at each other during the flight, and besides the brief overview of rules of being under the care of the federal government, plans on when they land in Montana and expectations that he personally put together for the six months, the only other conversation she had with him since they were dropped off at the airport was started after she took her window seat, buckled her seatbelt and tensed up.
Her body language was quiet to others but excruciatingly loud to him. She couldn't lean back, she couldn't relax. She was firm, sitting upright and looking straight ahead. And without even asking, he knew the root cause of it, "You're scared."
It didn't come across as poking fun. He wasn't trying to tease her. He was simply asking. Or stating. And without relaxing or even looking his way, she answered, "Kind of…" she pauses, "yeah," she nods her head up and down pretty fast, "of flying," she nearly jumps out of her seat when she feels his hand cover hers on the arm rest separating her seat from his, "sorry," she chances a look over at him before focusing back forward, "with everything going on I didn't think about the flight," she bites her lip and averts her eyes up towards the people putting their bags in the overhead compartment, "I haven't gotten on a flight since I was a teenager. I thought I outgrew the fear but apparently not," she laughs, it's a bit self-deprecating, "I think it's a control thing. I hate not being in control," she gives off the same laugh and shakes her head at her behavior.
"Focus on what you can control," he advises, unbuckling his seatbelt to turn to face her, "remind yourself why you're on this flight. And most importantly, remember to breathe. My hand is here in case you need something to squeeze," he waves said hand back and forth.
He only puts his seatbelt back on because of the announcement.
"Humans aren't meant to be airborne, Jay," she practically grits through her teeth. He chuckles and she'd enjoy getting a reaction from him other than his resting face if it wasn't at her expense.
"Think of this as exposure therapy."
She scoffs. That's easier said than done.
She also listens closely when the flight attendants go over the routine safety instructions. Erin nearly digs her nails into the armrest when the plane is on the runway and by the time the wheels leave the ground, she has the shield to the window down, her left hand is clenching Jay's and the nails on her right hand are digging into her thigh. He sits beside her, unaffected. He makes flying look easy. And by the time they reach the flight altitude, her panic and fear taper off and leaves exhaustion in its wake. She's had a long day. She's gotten no sleep. Neither of them are surprised when she does finally fall asleep, her head resting against the shield covering the window.
Fortunately, she sleeps the entire flight and by the time Jay is nudging her awake, she realizes they've landed. Her head no longer against the window shield but is now resting against his shoulder, "Sorry," she whispers, covering her mouth to yawn.
"Don't worry about it," he unbuckles his seatbelt once the light above their heads turn off, granting him permission to do just that. He grabs their bags from the overhead compartment and he steps back to allow her to slide out of her seat and into the aisle.
It's a small-town airport but honestly it's exactly what she expects. Montana isn't Illinois and the airport they flew from in Chicago was ten times the size of the one they landed in. She follows him to one of the only two baggage claims in the airport and between the two of them, once luggage hit the baggage carousel, they manage to grab their bags in less than five minutes. She follows him to a kiosk, it's the only rental car company offered in this building and she stands back with their suitcases as he fills out paperwork, pockets his credit card and takes a hold of the keys.
"Ready?" He jangles them in front of her face before tossing them up into the air and catching them in the palm of his hand, "we got a three-hour drive ahead of us. It's best to get going."
He grabbed his bags. She grabbed hers.
The rental car wasn't some luxury vehicle, since it was rented under an alias and paid on the government's dime, it was casual. It was a black car, a Hyundai Elantra, that'd perfectly blend in with the few cars that are on the road. It feels like traffic doesn't exist here. Driving on the highway, through the mountains and coming across one to two cars every few minutes, it's peaceful, it's relaxing and never in a million years would Erin ever see herself visiting Montana. Now that she's here though, taking it all in, she finds herself not minding the visit, only wishing it had been under better circumstances. For the first hour of the trip, she takes in the sights, from the mountain views to the lakes and from the landscape to the cattle, it was all so beautiful, so repetitive and hypnotizing that by the next hour of the trip, she had fallen asleep.
It's a silent and smooth ride. She isn't awakened by any bumps in the road, any talking or loud music. He uses the time to think, to reflect, and to go over the safety measures in the handbook he left back in his apartment in Chicago. He zones out. He stares at the road. The only sound in the car is the voice of the GPS coming out over the speaker every few minutes. He follows each instruction before turning off the automated voice as he pulls down a deserted road, driving through the clearing, up the hill until he sees the secluded cabin up ahead. He reaches over, rubbing her shoulder to coax her awake, "Erin," he whispers being mindful to keep his voice low, not wanting to startle her awake, "we're here," he gives her arm a slight nudge.
Erin's eyes flutter open to find him looking at her, smiling. She desperately craves sleep now that her last few attempts were done in intervals. She's drained. She's physically exhausted from work and damn near dying while leaving work. She sits up, unbuckles her seatbelt and looks out the window at the cabin, "It looks nice," she opens her door and steps out, the heel of her boot pressing into the dirt road, "it's really quiet."
"Just the way it needs to be," he replies. She realizes that he's no longer in the car. He's walking around the vehicle, keys in hand before nodding for her to follow him, "We'll come back for the luggage. Come on. I'll give you the tour."
She leaves everything behind besides her purse, choosing to carry that with her despite it being perfectly safe inside the locked car since there are no neighbors or people within a ten-mile radius.
"Livingroom," he introduces, moving down the hall, "kitchen, no supply of groceries yet," she continues to follow, nearly tripping over her own two feet as she tries to keep up. He's in a rush, wanting the tour to end as soon as possible and it's obvious that he doesn't want to be here almost as must as she doesn't, -at least they're on the same page with that.
Two bedrooms, thank goodness. one bathroom, ugh. An empty kitchen, a small laundry room, a homey living room, a simple dining room and a wraparound porch. It's nothing fancy but it doesn't need to be. Neither are here for a vacation. He's here for work. She's here for survival. She follows him towards the back of the cabin, he's opening the door and gesturing for her to exit first, "Do you think that'll be enough wood?" She's referring to the chopped wood stacked against the side of the house for the fireplace inside.
"It's a lot but if it isn't enough, I'll just chop some more." He turns to head back into the house, this time leaving Erin outside with the option to follow behind him or continue watching the view.
She follows him, "Are there wild animals out here?"
"Possibly," he's walking to the front of the house; she's right on his heel, following behind, "their home is outside, so it's highly likely that animals are out there."
"I mean…" she damn near collides with the front of him when he stops to turn around and face her, "what if they decide to make their presence known and come onto the property?"
"Erin, there's nothing to worry about, if they come onto the property, they'll eventually leave it and if it poses any type of danger to either you or I then I'll take care of it." He turns back around.
Apparently, he's going to be the one to take care of everything.
Jay heads outside to get their luggage. Erin follows behind him slowly, taking in every part of the house that she passes before walking out front, entering the cool breeze of the late afternoon. She turns around to look at the cabin, holding onto the railing to step down backwards to take it all in.
It isn't as Erin pictured. To be honest, she didn't know what the safe house would like but this, the one-story cabin in the mountainous region of Montana was not it. It's simple, very little decoration inside and outside of the home. It's located in the middle of a field, mountains decorating the surrounding view but as for the immediate vicinity, it's all short, cut grass. The further out though, the grass gets taller, it gets wilder and she shivers at the thought of what lives in it.
"It makes it easier to detect approach," Halstead slams the trunk shut, "A clear view makes it easier for me to observe any suspicious activity. This place isn't on a map. Feds did that on purpose so no one knows it's up here. No one should be coming up here."
It's like he's reading her mind, answering all of the questions that she hadn't had a chance to ask.
"Privacy, parking, no nosy neighbors and a good view of the house and the surrounding land," Jay shrugs, lifting up as many bags as he can handle before leaving her just the one rolling suitcase to bring inside, "while you're here, we're going to go over the floor plan. It's important for you to know every possible entrance. Government didn't waste money on decorating, it's really no point, this place is rarely used. It's only one location out of many safe house locations, we lucked up and got assigned this one," he must be good at reading expressions and body language, or maybe he's just good at reading her, but he knows the follow-up question before she has a chance to ask it and he's already answering, "this place is a short flight to Chicago, it's pretty spacious and it's simplistic, the less there is here, the easier it is to spot any changes from outsiders. Other safe houses have to keep up with the city they're located in; this one though, it's outside the town."
Erin is learning so much in so little time. She can't imagine the Erin Voight that'll be returning to Chicago, knowing she'll be a different woman than the one she is today.
"Your room is down the hall to the left. Go ahead and take your things, unpack, get situated and then we're going to head into town, it's almost an hour drive."
She throws the strap of the duffle bag around her shoulder before reaching to grab the handles of her suitcases. She doesn't head straight to her room though. She starts to walk, she takes a few steps but then she abruptly stops and turns around to see him carrying his own belongings to his room at the other end of the hallway, "Um Jay," he doesn't turn his body but he does turn his head, looking over his shoulder to acknowledge her calling out his name, "Will you let my dad know we arrived? It'll give him a peace of mind. I don't want him worrying because he's not the easiest person to be around when he's worrying."
"I sent my team a message when our flight landed, another message when we were leaving the airport and a third message after I parked out front. They'll relay the info to your dad."
She nods. And she carries her bags into her room, shutting the door behind her as quiet as she possibly can before dropping the luggage at her feet, dragging her feet to the bed and falling forward, face planting against the folded blanket. She hears the door to his bedroom shut and she releases a loud, obnoxious sigh, inhaling such a deep breath, it makes her cough.
No phone. No laptop. No internet. What the hell is she supposed to do for six months? At least she saw a television in the living room but she's willing to bet money that it doesn't get many channels.
Erin rolls over from her front to her back, staring up at the ceiling fan that hangs directly above her bed. She's bored. And she only just arrived. Erin sits up, moves to her luggage, refolding her clothes and placing them inside the dresser directly in front of her bed. Once the first suitcase is empty, she zips it back up and places it inside of her closet. She moves to the other suitcase, unpacking it, refolding the clothes and her undergarments and then placing them in the remaining drawers of the dresser. Last, but not least, she grabs her duffle bag, setting it on her bed before unzipping it and the first thing she pulls from it is a picture frame, the one she packed at the last minute. She sits it right on the end table, directly in front of the lamp. She packed a few books that she put off reading. Now's the best time as any to read them. She unpacked her toiletries. She unpacked her sketchpad too. It's something she typically does when she has free time, which is never, so now would be perfect to pull it back out, to explore the talent she hadn't tapped into since her mom and brother had died.
She had already gotten a tour of the rest of the cabin but that didn't stop her from stepping out to look around again. It doesn't take long for her to do a walk through and by the end of it, she's standing in front of Jay's bedroom door, knocking and entering the second he tells her to come in.
"What's up?" He asks just as he shuts the safe built into the wall. She didn't notice that during the tour and once he lifts up a framed photo of a mountain view, she knows why. It was hidden. He puts it back in its original position then turns to give her his undivided attention.
She points over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, "There's uh," she's kind of distracted by the safe now hidden behind the painting, "there's no food. And I haven't eaten since yesterday."
And that's why they end up at the grocery store. He's pushing the cart, she's throwing things inside of it, all on the government's dime. It's the least they can do for uprooting her life like this.
"You wanted to go to town earlier," she says, looking back and forth between two brands of rice, not being able to decide between which kind to get, "was it just for groceries or something else?" Erin can't make a decision so she holds both of them up, then tossing the one in her right hand into the cart after he nods in its direction. She puts the other back.
"It was just for groceries."
He hardly talks and Erin hates it. She can't stay in a cabin for months without some type of communication. She always initiates it and he can hardly answer in a way that leaves room for her to follow-up. She moves along, turning to go down the next aisle with him following closely behind. It's the baking section that gets some type of reaction out of him, "What?" She finds herself smiling at the begrudging look he has on his face, "You don't like sugar?" She throws cake mix into the cart next, followed by brownies and a few other ingredients needed for baking sweets.
He shrugs. Not really giving her an answer or much room to work with in the communication department. He spoke the most back at her apartment but it was related to work, if it doesn't have to do with work then he isn't interested in responding. She looks unbothered when she goes to the shelf to debate between vanilla extract and lemon extract before settling on grabbing both.
"Make sure you get enough groceries so we don't have to make this a regular trip. At least a month's worth is my suggestion," he leans his crossed arms on top of the cart handle, "we're not coming to town more than once a month unless it's absolutely necessary."
"…then we're definitely going to need alcohol," is her simple reply.
And she deems it a successful one when it pulls a smile to his lips. Her response had caught him off guard and he couldn't stop that smile even if he wanted to.
The cart is about halfway full and they still have another half of the store to make their way through, she's tossing in items that look good, that sound good and that as a responsible adult, she should probably eat. Like vegetables. She shakes her head at the internal thought of that because the only reason she eats something like asparagus -she throws it into the cart- is because she's an adult and it just seems like the right thing to do. Jay adds more vegetables. He adds fruit too. And the snacks that he contributes to the load of groceries in their cart lean more towards the healthy spectrum. She doesn't make eye contact with him when she adds the type of snacks she prefers, high in sodium, high in sugar, high in fat or a combination of the three.
"I've been ignoring it the entire time we've been here but I can't anymore," she admits as she opens a carton of eggs to ensure not one of them was cracked, "ever since we came in this store, we've been getting looks, people are staring. Do you think they recognize me? Is my face on the national news or something? Is it being broadcasted about why I'm in hiding?"
She wasn't trying to be funny but that did earn a snicker. He pinches the bridge of his nose and he shook his head before dropping his arms to his side, "No Erin, they don't know you or why you're here. They're most likely staring because we're in a small town, they don't recognize us."
Erin meets the eyes of an elderly woman who looked ashamed enough at being caught staring that she does look away, choosing instead to actually focus on which type of cheese to throw into her cart. She turns back to Jay, setting the eggs down in the cart before moving closer to whisper, "I get we're out of towners but staring just seems like a bit much. Should I be worried? Me being here may make it's way back to Chicago," she's nervous, she's starting to bite down onto her thumbnail and if Jay knew her a bit better, he'd pull her hand away to get her to stop.
"I'll keep an eye and ear out but there's nothing for you to worry about; the locals will just assume we're a couple on vacation, just ignore it."
That's easier said than done.
And if you ask Erin, she should get a reward for doing something she considered to be a bit difficult. She made it through the rest of the store acting as if no one was watching them. She didn't know how celebrities did this. Can't even shop in public because of wandering eyes. At least some of them don't give them a second glance, deciding that the presence of two tourists wasn't worth watching and she could hug the hell out of them for that.
"Since we're not coming to town at least for a month, let's pick up a pizza," she noticed a shop down the block from the grocery store when they pulled up.
He slams the trunk shut, "We just got groceries."
"You say this as if you're surprised by my request," she's a very sociable person hence what gives her an edge and an extra boost in tips when bartending, and when she meets people, they typically warm up to her quick, "it's not out of the ordinary to pick up food after grocery shopping. You spend so much time in there, you don't feel like cooking when you get home."
Proudly, she carries two hot pizza boxes into the cabin, being mindful of the porch stairs and the one step up into the house before dropping the boxes on the center of the dining room table. It's a pretty uneventful night; the most fun comes from eating pizza and by the time Erin has put away the groceries and the leftover pizza, she's stretching her arms into the air and yawning.
"Jay," she whispers out his name; he's lounging on the couch, television remote in hand, "what's there to do around here? Not in the cabin but outside."
"I'm not positive. I have never been to this location however we're too far from the nearest town to go there for anything besides essential items only. I hate to tell you this but I believe all the activities available out here are all in this cabin," he changes the channel; it's only local channels that are available, "I think this place has a few games somewhere around here. If you want, we can look and find them to play a game or two?"
"I'll pass," it's kind of ironic that she's spent her day trying to get him to talk, to break that ice front he puts up and now that he's actually loosening up a bit, she's turning away, "I'm pretty exhausted," and that's the truth, between the short naps she's taken, the long flight, the hours on the road, unpacking, grocery shopping and now having a full stomach, she's surprised she hasn't passed out yet, "I think I'm going to take a shower and call it a night," he simply nods and wishes her a good one as she backs away, still facing him, watching him set the remote beside him after settling on watching the news, "I'll see you tomorrow."