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"Dammit, I thought for sure we'd find something in there," Sam huffed as he stepped outside of the tower. He placed his hands on his hips in agitation as he gazed up at the ivy growing upward on the building. He started texting Nate again on his phone.
I followed behind slowly, still in shock from what Simmons had done. Holden's picture was burned relentlessly into my memory. His grey eyes, somewhat sad and sleepy looking like his father's, the faintest touch of light freckles starting to show on his cheeks and nose, his dark brown hair starting to grow in and look thicker, his open-mouthed smile revealing baby teeth starting to grow from the gums. I took that picture with a disposal camera, catching his little infant-self unposed and happy. I had that picture stashed in one of my clothes drawers, hidden away. The fact that Simmons had sent it to me…
"Hey, Dani, you okay?"
I looked up to see Sam staring at me intently, his brows drawn in worriment. He had been talking to me and I hadn't heard a word of it.
"You look pretty shaken up," he commented.
"I'm fine," I assured him, but there was no confidence in my voice.
A phone call came in and Sam answered his cell excitedly, continuing a previous conversation him and his brother were having. "For God and liberty. Nathan, do you understand what this means?"
Sam's smile suddenly faded as I heard Nate say something inaudible from the other line. I tensed up, sensing something was wrong.
"What's going on?" Sam asked into the phone.
The sounds of tires screeching drew my attention to the street. Shoreline was here. Sam turned his head right as he heard the sound, too.
"Shit!" I cursed.
"Oh, shit!" Sam copied as he ducked his head to dodge some bullets. "C'mon, Dani, run!"
I stumbled forward in a blind panic, almost tripping as I gathered my footing. Bullets were striking the tower as the soldiers recklessly unloaded their gun's clips. I caught up to Sam following right on his heels as we booked it down the street. The jeeps revved up again and started to chase us down the street. We cut into an alley and hopped a chain fence to escape them. We were greeted with three massive trucks roaring around the corner, followed by more jeeps.
"They're going to kill us!" I cried sprinting away from the army of vehicles headed our way.
There was no way we were going to outrun any of these military-grade vehicles, they'd run us over in a heartbeat. We cut through as many alleys as we could, but the cars cut us off on the other sides of the streets, nearly running civilians over. Sam took my hand, yanking me forward.
"Look!" He pointed with his other hand at a man standing next to a motorcycle, appearing dumbstruck by the massive trucks making the streets look like a demolition derby. "We need that bike!"
Before I could open my mouth Sam shoved the man down, ripping the keys from his hands. The man barked at him in a forgien language as he struggled to get to his feet. Sam put the key in the ignition and turned it on.
"Hop on, Dani, we don't have time to stand around!"
I would have been reluctant to steal this stranger's motorcycle, but desperate times right? I climbed on hastily, wrapping my arms around Sam's torso as we sped off down the street. Sam rode downhill, and I swore I felt like I was going to fall off by the sheer speed we were traveling. I buried my head into his back, gritting my teeth as some of the men in the trucks and in the jeeps started firing at us. Sam expertly weaved the bike around the street as I dared a glance back to see them gaining on us.
"Move out of the way!" Sam screamed at the civilians; the streets were packed by confused people who were jumping narrowly out of the way to avoid a collision. Damn Shoreline didn't give a shit if they killed any of these innocent people.
Sam drove straight into a fence, nearly giving us whiplash. He cut downhill, driving off road and into the grass. Although we were out of the city, now we were out in the open. The trucks and jeeps launched down the hill after us, not even bothering to be cautious. Sam told me to hang on and did a sharp turn to the left, making dirt spin up in a geiser. He drove back on the road, cutting off a car and nearly getting us in an accident. He swerved a few more pedestriaions and now was driving on a bridge.
"Sam, they're still right behind us!" I yelled, looking back over my shoulder again to see that the damn trucks was still right on our asses. The soldiers continued to fire as Sam drove the bike as fast as it could possibly go. I took my pistol out of its holster, knowing my aim in this circumstance would be terrible, but I didn't have much of a choice. I blindly fired at Shoreline, missing pretty much all of the targets.
"Oh God, there's more trucks after us, and this one has a crane attached to it!" I gasped. We were still on the bridge, now driving over a large body of water. I fired a few more shots then gave up before I wasted more of my ammo.
"Just hang on, Dani!" Sam advised, yelling over the sounds of gunfire and engines.
The bridge ended and led us to a large stretch of mud in the countryside. I kept looking back wildly, seeing how more and more Shoreline vehicles joined in. I clung to Sam as tightly as I could, praying that we would somehow get out of this. Suddenly a Shoreline jeep flipped and exploded as some of the soldiers focused their attention on something by the truck with the crane.
"Sam, some of the 4x4's are blowing up!"
"Good riddance!"
There was Shoreline with their own motorcycles now trying to catch up to us. Sam kept on course (whatever our "course" was), trying his best to dodge the mayhem behind us. Vechiles kept on exploding behind us, keeping my attention. I saw someone standing up on the back of the truck, reloading a gun and shooting at Shoreline.
"Oh my God, I think that's Nate!" I shouted, hardly believing my eyes.
"What?! Nathan's here?" Sam replied bewildered. We drove through a marsh, hoping the change of terrain wouldn't slow us down. "Shit…" I heard him mutter shrilly.
The damn motorcycles were trying to surround us now, some fighting to gain speed to get ahead of us. They circled from behind us in a formation to attempt to box us in. One soldier on a bike steered right up beside us, trying to ram into us. He reached for me, but I tried to kick him away.
"Fuck off!" I hollered venomously.
He got a little wobbly on the bike, but didn't fall off much to my dismay. We crossed into a neighborhood as the sound of more crashing made me whip my head around. A jeep had driven straight through the formation of bikes, making them crash. I noticed that Nate was the one behind the wheel.
"Sam, look!" I shouted, getting his attention.
"Hey, brother!" Sam greeted, steering the bike to ride side-by-side with the jeep Nate was driving.
Bullets hitting the exterior of the 4x4 made us swerve away from each other.
"Get closer!" Nate yelled to us.
"I'm trying!" Sam hollered back. He led the bike back toward Nate. "Okay, okay-"
"Hop on!" We all shouted in unison.
"Sam, Dani, get in the goddamn car!" Nate demanded.
"I'm faster! Stop arguing!"
I saw Nate's eyes suddenly fly open wide. "Watch out!" He warned.
"Oh, shit!" Sam stepped on the brakes, making both of us lurch forward. A Shoreline truck was headed straight for us. The truck collided with Nate's jeep, sending it tumbling and flipping down the road.
"Oh my God, Nate! He's under the jeep!" I cried.
Sam stopped the bike, maneuvering his way around so we could go back for Nate. Some Shoreline came after us again, making Sam have to get off course from going to Nate. I watched helplessly as the jeep Nate was in started to catch on fire. Some of the soldiers were surrounding the jeep, getting off their bikes to inspect it. That damned armored truck drove right in Nate's area as Sam and I did. Sam braked and extended his hand to Nate, whom was on the ground (thankfully unharmed).
"Hop on!" Sam pulled Nate up.
Nate sat behind me, sandwiching me in between the two brothers. Nate grabbed onto me as I did the same to Sam as he sped off to outdrive the massive truck chasing us now.
"Gun it!" Nate screamed.
The torrent on the top of the truck started firing at us. We all instinctively ducked as the motorcycle made its way back into another town. This truck was out for blood and wasn't going to be taken down easily. I passed Nate my gun, knowing that he had better aim. He started firing at the truck as the bike made a jump, landing harshly on the grass. The downhill decent continued as we drove through a warehouse and through another alley.
"How we doin' back there?" Sam asked.
"Not good! Not good at all!" Nate replied shakily, still firing at the truck.
"It's not letting up, Sam!" I interjected fearfully.
We were now driving right through some kind of boat docking area, watching the truck drive right into things and destroying them. Sam told Nate to keep shooting, but how could a wimpy little pistol take out an armored vechile this strong?
"I hate this truck!" Nate yelled.
"Hang on!"
I squeezed my eyes shut, wrapping my arms tighter around Sam. Most of Sam and Nate's shouting were drowned out by gunfire and the truck crashing into things; the sounds of chaos pounded against my ear drums, making me feel dizzy and disoriented. I felt the bike start to dip, but I didn't dare open my eyes. A massive explosion followed by the bike stopping made me catch my breath again. Sam had drove us right under an eighteen-wheeler and made the Shoreline truck crash. We watched the fire break out, still sitting on the bike.
"Holy shit," Sam breathed.
"You said it," I sighed heavily, wiping my sweaty forehead with my trembling arm.
"Yeah…" Nate panted.
Sam chuckled in relief, "you guys good?"
I gave Sam a pat on the shoulder as an answer, unable to stop myself from smiling in relief along with the guys.
"Yeah," Nate answered.
Sam laughed again, though I could feel his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. "Let's get out of here." Sam drove us off, still laughing at our narrow escape.
Back at the Ikopa hotel, I went right into my room (next door to the guy's). Sully had joined us, and wanted to talk about new clues. I told them that I needed a rest and retired to my room. I studied myself in the mirror, seeing that I was covered in mud and sweat. I peeled off my dirty, sweaty clothes and dumped my purse and its purchased contents onto my bed, and took off my combat boots. I got into the shower, lathering myself in as much soap as I could. I washed my entire body, wanting to rid myself of the stink of this place. I was tired, and my head was still reeling from the motorcycle chase and Simmons' unpleasant message. I didn't bother to wash my hair, knowing what I had to do. I stepped out of the shower, toweling my naked body off as I went to the bed and picked up the scissors I had bought from the market earlier today. I went to face the mirror and started cutting. I watched without feeling as my wet long hair fell to the ground around my feet in matted clumps. I cut it to about my chin length bob, noticing that it was uneven (especially in the back). Despite my clean body I looked like a mess, my appearance completely disheveled.
I took the hair dye and started to apply it to my roots, all the way to the ending strands of my hair. I had always had light brown hair, but always imagined myself to look better with darker hair. I went for a dark shade of brown (almost black). I waited with the dye freshly in my hair, put on a robe, taking a step outside for a minute to escape the overpowering smell of dye. As I went out of my hotel room I saw a pretty blonde woman storming out of the guy's apartment, her eyes were filled with tears. She started to wave down a taxi. As she climbed into a taxi right as Sully came rushing out, trying to go after her. I sank back into my room, not wanting to be instrusive. Whatever was going on was not my business.
I rinsed out my hair and blow-dried it, and inspected myself in the mirror. I definitely looked cleaner, and the nearly black hair against my tanned complexion didn't look that bad. I removed the robe and put on a grey tank top and sweatpants andas I plugged my phone into the charger beside the hotel bed. I turned it face down, not wanting to think about Simmons or his messages right now.
Someone knocked on the door lightly. "It's me, Dani." I heard Sam's voice speak from behind. He sounded somewhat withdrawn.
"Come in, it's not locked," I called to him, not moving from my spot.
I heard the door open and close with a soft click, and heard his footsteps approach from behind me. I heard him stop suddenly, knowing that he probably noticed my changed appearance.
"Oh my God, what happened to your back?" He asked, alarmed. He rushed over to me, getting a better look at the grotesque scars. "This didn't happen from today, did it?" His finger just barely trailed down my shoulder-blade, sending delightful chills down my spine.
I turned to look at him, realizing that my shortened hair and tank top exposed some it almost completey. I held his gaze boldly, my eyes heavy from sleep depravation.
"Simmons…" I muttered; even his name tasted sour on my lips.
Sam reached out his hand, gently gripping a strand of my freshly dyed hair, twirling it in his hands to inspect it. "Is that the reason for this, too?" More chills…
"I was warned that me may be headed here soon, I figured disguising myself would help," I touched my cheek lightly, "although my complexion will most likely give me away." These damn freckles, there was no escaping them.
Sam sighed, staring at me sadly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. He picked up the silver pair of scissors resting on the hotel comforter. "If you'd like I can even that up for you," he offered, nodding toward my terribly butchered hair.
"You know how to cut hair?" I asked him skeptically, raising a brow.
Sam chuckled, "yeah of course, I had to learn to do it in prison. Have a seat," he gestured to the bed.
I sat down, listening to the springs on the hotel mattress creak. Sam stood over me, examining my head with a masterful eye before he started cutting. I could hear the scissors snipping quietly; the only sound in the room other than my breathing. His close proximity was making my stomach flutter and my knees grow weak. He brushed some of the loose hair from my back, making yet another a tingle run down my spine. I bit my lip, swallowing the overwhelming sensation that Sam seemed to radiate. Why did he affect me this way? It was stupid.
"All done," he announced after a few minutes.
I stood up and took a look in the mirror as he sat on the bed, waiting to hear my critique. I turned my head, examinging his handiwork. It actually looked good, like really good. I brushed my newly cut bangs out of my face, turning to face Sam with a gratified smile on my face.
"Thanks, Sam, it looks much better," I said graciously as I sat beside him.
"Of course."
I remembered the woman outside and Sully going after her. Sam seemed tense and preoccupied by something, so I assumed something went down next door. He kept staring off into nothing, his thoughts dragging him away.
"I saw a blonde woman outside leaving your hotel room," I started, my tone cautious as I felt I was treading into sensitive territory.
"That was Nate's wife. Nate had been lying to her about everything and she got pretty upset," Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger.
"He lied to her about this? I can't imagine lying to someone you care about that many weeks," I exclaimed aloud.
Sam appeared tight-lipped and slightly uncomfortable. The two of us sat in silence for a while until he glanced back at me. He looked like he wanted to say something but he changed his mind.
"Well, here's your scissors," Sam broke the silence, placing the scissors in my hands.
Instead of pulling away he lingered for a moment, resting his fingers on my palm. I curled my fingers around his, taking in the contrast of warmth from his hand and the cold from the metal scissors. Both of our eyes met and I swore although it sounds hokey, something clicked. We both gazed longingly at each other, not daring to move or say a word. The instant he started to gravitate toward me my breath hitched. I was too stunned to move - to nervous I would ruin this moment.
Sam hesitantly pressed his lips against mine, giving me a delicate kiss. He was testing to see how I would react, and honestly I didn't know how I would react. He pulled away for a moment and then kissed me again, this time with more passion than the first. His lips moved against mine as my eyes fluttered closed. Warmth spread within my lower abdomen as Sam brought up his hand to lightly caress the side of my face. His calloused, rough fingers felt wonderful against my own skin. I started to kiss him back, parting my lips in initiation as my hands rested on his leg. Sam's kisses were sloppy, as I'm sure mine were, neither of us had done this kind of thing in awhile. This was different, but in a good way. The kissing became more heated; he tasted like nicotine and his scent was earthy. It excited me in ways I couldn't explain. Rafe had been my only, but when we made love it was dutiful and joyless (except for that one night eleven years ago). With Sam my emotions were heightened, and my body buzzed with a foreign sense of excitement. As Sam led me downward on the bed I started to tremble in anticipation.
I was in a whole different world.