Chapter Twenty-Five #2
I wake up sometime later, and we’re pulling up to a gas station with miles of empty road on either side. Katia is dressed in a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. She gets out of the car and reaches for the gas pump, her dark eyes wide and unflinching. My throat is dry as I lean away from Mason.
“Let’s get you something to eat and drink.
” Mason gets out first and surveys the area before he holds his hand out.
I take it and feel Mason slip a knife into the waistband of my jeans.
The metal feels cool and strange as I grip his hand and lower my head.
Mason pulls his cap lower over his head, and the bell over the door rings.
Mason doesn’t let go of my hand until we reach the bathroom in the back. He offers me a brief smile as I unlock the door and step in. I step back out after washing my hands and face, and Mason is as still as a statue. Then, we wander the aisles, picking up a few random things.
Once we reach the pimple-faced cashier, Mason pulls out a wad of cash and sets it down on the counter.
The boy barely glances at us as he rings up the items and chews his gum.
Then he shoves everything into a plastic bag and hands it over.
Katia is waiting for us when we reach the car, only this time, Mason gets into the front.
“Get some more sleep. It will be a while before we stop again.”
I stretch my legs out and pry open a pack of chips. “Okay.”
“Let me know if you need to stop.” Mason leans forward to give me a quick kiss before settling in the front.
He pushes his chair back a little, and his fingers move to the buttons of his shirt.
After changing into a bright Hawaiian shirt and jeans, he stuffs his clothes into one of the plastic bags.
I bring the back of my head to rest against the glass and stare at the world outside as it rushes past. The chips taste bland, and the loud crunching sound reverberates inside my head, but it keeps me from thinking too much.
Eventually, there are more cars on the road, and I sink lower into the seat.
I drift in and out of consciousness as I feel Mason drape a coat over me.
When I blink, we’ve stopped, and Mason is leaning between the seats to smooth out my hair. I offer him a sleepy smile, and he brushes his forehead against mine. I sleep again until another jolt awakens me. Gingerly, I push myself up and rub my hands over my eyes.
It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust, and when they do, I notice two things at once.
The first is that every part of my body aches from the odd angle I was curled up in.
And the second is that it’s pitch-black outside, and there’s nothing but a single farmhouse in the middle of an otherwise empty stretch of land.
Katia is leaning against the car, a phone pressed to her ear.
Mason lets the seatbelt slide back into place and steps out of the car. He opens the back door and helps me out. I stop to stretch my arms over my head and blink again.
“Where are we?”
“One of the safehouses.”
I spin a little on my heels. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
Mason drapes an arm around me. “We are, but don’t worry. The place is properly stocked. It should be good for a few months.”
“What happens after that?”
“We’ll see.” Mason kisses my forehead and takes my hand again.
Our footsteps are loud and jarring against the stillness of the night, and I hold my breath until we reach the front door.
It creaks open, revealing a hallway with two doors on either side.
In silence, I follow Mason as we venture deeper inside, and I find myself standing in the middle of a living room with a fireplace and an open floor-kitchen with gleaming appliances.
I peel off the coat, taking in the cream-colored walls and the backyard. “Won’t they check the safehouses first?”
Mason shakes his head. “Not this one. Don’t worry. Come on, let me show you our room.”
I nod and follow him back to the hallway.
He stops in front of the door to the right and reveals a clean and spacious room with hardwood floors and an en suite bathroom. Then, we head back toward the kitchen.
Having Katia in such close quarters is better than the alternative, but it still makes me uneasy.
You’d better wrap your head around it because this is your reality now. At least, it will be for the next few months.
My half-baked escape plan feels like a million miles away.
Like they’re part of another life.
Mason pulls out a stool for me in the kitchen, opening and closing several cupboards, and eventually setting down a few containers. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
I push the stool back and stand up. “Why don’t I go clean up first, and then we can eat?”
Mason nods. “Okay, I’ll make us all something.”
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
Mason shrugs and pries one of the lids open. Then he goes back to the fridge and returns with a handful of vegetables. “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”
“I guess you’re right.”
He pulls out a knife and a cutting board. “There are fresh towels in the bathroom, and the heater should be working fine. Katia will bring in the bags.”
I leave the bathroom door ajar and turn on the water. While it heats up, I peel off my sweaty clothes and leave them in a heap on the floor. Then, I pull the curtain aside and step in. Hot water pours down my back and swirls at my feet as I stand there.
The past few hours don’t make sense.
Everything I know is gone, and with my parents in the wind, there’s a strange ache in the center of my chest.
When I step out of the shower, I wrap myself in a clean, fluffy towel and pad into the room. The bag is on the bed, unzipped, and I pull out a pair of sweatpants, clean underwear, and a hoodie. After pulling them on, I step in front of the dresser and take one of the brushes.
I drag it through my hair, carefully avoiding the mirror.
Voices spill out into the hallway as I step out and pause.
“It’s too risky to reach out to any of our allies. You know that as well as I do.”
“I can put out a few feelers.”