Eleven
theo
Istopped by my apartment and grabbed a couple of masks and a first aid kit, praying whatever had happened to Sadie required nothing more than bandages and gauze. Unfortunately, Tim’s text wasn’t written in English, so I had no clue how serious her injuries were.
“I don’t know what we can do if it’s bad.” Varesh pulled off his beanie as we rushed down the next flight of stairs, tucking it in his coat pocket.
“I’m trying not to think about it.” Picturing her seriously injured only made me feel helpless, and we hadn’t even found her yet.
If she’d been hurt badly enough to need a hospital—
Nope, not thinking about it.
We reached the landing on level three just as Dustin was backing out of an empty apartment.
My pulse jumped, and I tightened my grip on the first-aid kit. After not running into him for days, it was almost like seeing a ghost wandering the halls.
Varesh and I stopped short and exchanged a look.
A retired couple, Janette and Clive, had lived in the apartment before Ultimus took them. Pre-pandemic, they’d spent more time on cruise ships than in the building, so we were never close. Dustin hadn’t known them well either, and he had no good reason for being in there.
He turned the key and checked the handle twice before clocking our presence.
“What are you doing?” I asked, catching my breath.
He flinched and shoved a scrap of pink fabric in his pocket, his eyes flicking from Varesh to me. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I want to know the answer?” My gaze dropped to the keys dangling from his hand, and for the first time it hit me he could access all our homes.
Mine. Sadie’s.
Ellie and Willow’s.
He pulled his shoulders back and gave me a withering glance. “That’s none of your concern.”
“What did you put in your pocket?” Varesh asked, jittery with the need to keep moving. “And why are you being so shifty?”
Dustin opened his mouth as if to respond, but he must have known his explanation wouldn’t wash. “I don’t need to justify my actions to either of you. Entering apartments from time to time is part of my role as the manager.”
“Oh, you’re the manager?“ I asked. “You’ve never mentioned that before. How about you hand over those fucking keys?”
He took a backward step as if I’d just punched him, but the extra space was all he needed to collect himself.
“No wonder Miss Wentworth had to pay your rent,” he said with a forced laugh. “You can’t control your words, let alone your finances. You’re a Neanderthal.”
Shock rippled through me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d landed a jab for the first time. Sadie had paid my rent without telling me? Or, more to the point, without asking me?
“The keys, Dustin.” I held out my hand, desperate to get to her. “Give them to me now, or I’ll come back later—and I won’t be so nice about it the next time.”
He dropped them into his pocket rather than my palm, his eyes darting around as if searching for an ally.
Before I could make a move toward him, he turned and rushed down the stairs.
“Forget about him and his bakwaas.” Varesh repositioned his glasses and watched Kerger go. “We don’t have time for him right now.”
“You’re right,” I said. “The weasel can wait.”
We ran down the last two flights and landed in the foyer, striding across patterned tiles to the rear exit.
Dustin had scurried back to his apartment and slammed the door, the lock clicking in place as we passed by.
“What’s bakwaas?” I asked.
“The only thing that comes out of his mouth—nonsense.” Varesh shoved the glass door open, and I followed him outside to the tenants’ car park. “What did he mean about Sadie paying your rent? Was that fact, or just more of his rubbish?”
“Fact. Don’t ask me why. I know as much as you do.” And I still hadn’t figured out why the information vaguely pissed me off.
The temperature had plummeted during the short time we’d been inside, and dark, heavy clouds were about to crack. I dug my keys from my pocket and made a beeline for my silver Ranger, conscious of the time we’d wasted.
The two of us jumped in, and I pulled out onto Sanderson Street. “Better check if the medical centre’s operating on the way past.”
It didn’t take long to confirm we were on our own. No A-frame sign out front, and it no longer seemed feasible we’d see it again.
“The more I think about it, the more confident I am we can handle this,” Varesh said, staring out the passenger window. “Tim’s a lunatic at the best of times with texting, but he wouldn’t be so vague if something serious had happened.”
“I hope you’re right.” I focused on my surroundings and tried not to worry about Sadie.
The first drops of rain fell, and I flicked on the intermittent wipers, smearing tracks of dust across the windshield.
“What do you think Kerger was hiding in his pocket?” I asked, spraying a couple of bursts of water to clear the mess.
Varesh kept his eyes on the street, checking both sides. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “The only thing I’m sure of is that it doesn’t belong to him.”
Knowing he’d been creeping around and touching Jeanette and Clive’s things rubbed me the wrong way, even if they were never coming back to claim them.
“He’s changed since we’ve been in lockdown,” Varesh went on. “If we're stuck together much longer, that man's going to turn dangerous.”
A statement, not a question. I blew out a sigh. “I’ve been thinking that for a while, but it’s worse when someone else says it out loud.”
He gave me a dose of side eye. “We need those master keys.”
“I’ll get onto it when Sadie and Tim are back home.” It wouldn’t fix the issue, but it would at least help the women feel safer in their homes.
“What’s next?” Varesh asked. “After we have the keys. Going by the look on your face, you’ve got some ideas.”
“I’ve got plenty of ideas, but none of them are legal.
” Society wasn’t far gone enough for us to take matters into our own hands, and so far, all Dustin had done was use words.
He hadn't put his hands on anyone. “Between you and me, I’m trying to figure out how much I can get away with—and how long I need to wait.”
He nodded his understanding and stared off into the distance. “While the virus has everyone’s attention, I think you could get away with anything you can personally and morally handle.”
He went quiet as I took the next turn. We passed a woman on the footpath who stopped and lowered her mask, doubling over in a coughing fit. My fingers flexed on the wheel, and I almost lifted the mask resting under my chin in reflex.
“Just so we’re on the same page,” he said, “are we both referring to permanent solutions?”
We were having this conversation like a couple of hitmen, when just last week Varesh had screamed after a mouse ran across his foot. I would have laughed if our situation hadn’t been so dire.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “It’s insane to even be talking about this. The other options are locking him out of the building or tying him up and taking him for a drive blindfolded.”
Taxis and public transport hadn’t been running during the entire second wave. If we dumped him a couple of hours away with no wallet or phone, it could take him a week or more to find his way home.
“But we can’t get through roadblocks.”
“Yet,” I said. “Watch what happens after today. The protest’s going to change everything.”
He pressed his lips together and held off on commenting.
I took the last turn onto Bradley Street and dropped all thoughts of Kerger. “Keep an eye out,” I said. “They’re around here somewhere.”
The rain fell heavier now, streaming down the glass and sending pedestrians scurrying for cover. I switched the wipers to fast mode and scanned the street.
“I can barely see anything,” Varesh said.
Then a blur of movement to my right had me hitting the brakes before I knew what was coming.
My heart punched against my ribs, and I narrowly avoided a dog as it shot across the road.
After a few seconds of evasion from the animal, a panicked woman grabbed hold of the lead and waved in apology, dragging her staffy to safety.
I was still watching her jog away in the rearview when Varesh jabbed his finger straight ahead. “There.”
I peered through the rain and lifted my foot off the brake, easing closer.
A white hatchback sat in the middle of the cross intersection, with a black sedan jammed at an odd angle against the curb. The wipers cleared my windscreen for a split second, and the crushed front end of the sedan registered.
How fast did a car need to be going to do that kind of damage on a residential street?
“Sadie was blindsided,” Varesh said as we pulled our masks into place.
Which meant she’d never had time to brace for impact. My shoulders tensed as I pulled over and cut the engine, trying not to picture worst-case scenarios.
The wipers halted mid-sweep, and the second I stepped out onto the road, my jacket was drenched.
Varesh jumped out and joined me, squinting against the rain as we approached Sadie's wrecked car.
Tim climbed out of the passenger door, mask in place. Seeing no sign of her through the windscreen, I swallowed. She couldn’t even sit upright?
“Is she in the backseat?” I asked.
“She’s lying down—but it wasn’t the crash that hurt her.
” Tim briefly embraced Varesh, whose posture loosened up.
“We were hit by a car,” he said, shielding his eyes from the rain, “and then she was hit by a cyclist. The man just took off afterwards without a care in the world, and now her car won’t start. ”
I yanked open the rear door and found Sadie lying on her side, face uncovered. Tim had wedged a bunched-up jacket under her head, and her eyes were closed, her mouth soft and relaxed. Until last week, she’d been so on guard around me that seeing her like this caused a tug in my chest.
I crouched down to her level and swept her hair back from her face, listening to her breathing. Deep and even, which was something under the circumstances.
Other than a superficial graze on her collarbone, there were no obvious injuries. Without turning her over or lifting her clothing, she didn’t appear to be bleeding.
“Did she hit her head?” I asked as Tim and Varesh crowded around me.
“Pretty hard, I think,” Tim said. “I had to pick her up off the road. She hasn’t been conscious since.”
The downpour eased to a drizzle straight after it had soaked me to the bone. “How long ago?”
He frowned. “Five minutes? I put her in the car to keep her dry and texted straight after.”
“What about the other driver?” I couldn’t get a clear view of the car from my lower position.
“She can’t be helped… if you know what I mean.”
I exhaled loudly through my nose. Everyone knew what that meant, but now he’d presented another hurdle. “Either of you get close to her?”
“Sadie did for about twenty seconds before she masked up. But neither of us touched her.”
Twenty seconds without a mask? It took as little as a minute for infection to occur. I closed my eyes and sighed. “All right. Nothing we can do about it now. I’ll carry her if you two want to move her car off the road.”
“I’ll get in,” Varesh said to Tim. “You can push.”
A small number of people were immune to Ultimus or asymptomatic, but there was no way of knowing if those statuses applied to us.
What were the chances of her catching it outside in a span of seconds?
What if it was spreading through her body right now?
I paused and said a silent prayer I’d be one of the lucky few, then slid her from the car and hoisted her against me.