“She knew about it?” Nick frowns even deeper and stares at the floor.
“I don’t think so. My guess is it either caught on the branches out there or got knocked loose.” This might be the first time I’ve ever lied to them. I’m not sure it would help to admit I had it removed in the hospital. “She left her cell phone,” I add, “but took her wallet. She’s too smart to use anything that would alert us though.”
I should have told her the truth—the real truth. Screw her plan. She put all of this on me, so it was up to me to make the right decision on this end.
“Ellison, we have to call this in,” Sabrina says with a glance at Nick to get him to back her up. Her arms are crossed. I can read the worry in her eyes and the vertical line forming between her eyebrows.
“No, Harris doesn’t hear about this. Period.” I look at Nick too. Now we’re both staring at him. A minute passes; Nick has always been slow to come to a decision but he sticks with it once he does.
“We don’t have a reason to tell him, so let’s keep him out of this. It was supposed to be the four of us anyway,” Nick says quietly.
I swing around and punch my fist through the drywall.
“Eli!”
I face them. “It hasn’t been the four of us. Meg had no idea of what was going on. What is going on.”
I go back to pacing. They’re having a silent conversation with their eyes and nods while I think things through.
Where did she go?
Where could she go?
As far as I know, she hasn’t made any other friends or contacts. She might have remembered more than she wrote down, but I don’t believe she ran with a plan. She got scared.
“What resources does she have?” Nick asks. “Do you know how much she remembers now?”
He’s thinking along the same lines.
“She has thirty thousand in cash, a gun, ammo, and her instincts even if she doesn’t have her memory. That’s plenty for her to disappear forever.”
“You think she will?” Sabrina paces too, walking into the kitchen and coming back.
“No,” Nick answers for me. “She can’t let things go. That’s why she ran, to get answers. Soon she’ll realize she has to come back for those.”
“She’s confused and scared.” My gut tightens as I say the words. “She has remembered odds and ends, but not anything about the four of us, or enough to put anything together. There’s a chance she might contact TJ.”
“I’ll contact him,” Sabrina says, heading for the door. She needs something to do. “Then I’ll check the police scanner, logs, Portland area cameras, my contacts.”
“Eli,” Nick says slowly. I look at him when he doesn’t continue. He waves a finger around, indicating the house.
“It’s a closed circuit. I made sure of that. I built this from the ground up, and you can confirm no one else came in while I was at the hospital. Harris doesn’t have a reason to keep a close eye on us.”
Nick and Sabrina look at each other. She says, “But he likes control.”
“Yes, but his mind is on his active missions and moving up the ranks. We’re done.” I cross my arms and look at both of them. “This should be a simple mission to find her. Let’s get moving.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
*
Megan
I can’t check into a hotel without handing over a credit card, my ID, and probably a license plate number. It’s probably two or three in the morning by now. I’m freezing cold and actually hungry, which baffles me. Could I even keep anything down?
There’s a minimart ahead but I’m paranoid. It seems like everyone I’ve come into contact with since waking up from the coma was in on it, whatever it is. That makes me sound crazy, but it’s where I’m at. There’s also a public restroom so I use that and keep walking, staying out of any stores for now.
I walk for hours despite the pain in my legs, until I’m in a residential area, knowing that I’ll need to find a home to stay in, not anywhere official that can be tracked. It worked out to hitch a ride with a stranger but I’m not going to ask some random person if I can stay at their house.
I could be closing in on daybreak by now. I shiver inside my coat and happen to see a medium sized fifth wheel camper parked between a two story house and fence. I only spotted it because there’s a streetlight two houses down.
The owners built an overhang to protect it from the weather. It’s out of the way, the door side in the shadows. I walk slowly down the sidewalk and turn at the last second to go to the door. I know it’s locked before trying it. I could walk around all night looking for one that isn’t, but that would imply someone would be sleeping in it or coming back to it.
Out of desperation, I feel underneath where the metal curls back up and slowly make my way around the RV this way. My hand hits something. I yank it free, hoping it’s what I think it is.
Apparently the universe decided it’d dumped enough on me. I hold a small magnetic key hider. Triumphant, I slide it open to retrieve the key, unlock the door with numb hands, and slip inside. Before relocking the door, I listen and look around. It’s even darker in here but it looks empty. Cautiously, I slink toward the back end, find the bed, and then back through, feeling my way. It’s empty. So I lock the door and quietly pull out the little flashlight I brought with me. I hold it against the floor when I turn it on to hide the light, and only use it long enough to look around the camper and pull the bed down. I turn the flashlight off, pull off my shoes and coat and slide into the chilly bed. It’s still better than the elements outside, and it warms up after a minute of me shivering and clattering my teeth. I finally close my eyes, feeling sleep overtake me instantly.
***
Pain wakes me in the morning. My face burns where it got scratched, my leg muscles are horribly sore, and my ankles and knees are tender. My throat is raw from running in the cold. My entire body is still tired and aching, so I stay burrowed, thankful that no one busts in the door.
I wish Eli were here to hold me. He would know exactly what to do. I need to remember that and not think like him.
It’s funny, even after last night, it doesn’t seem possible that I won’t see him again. I regret that I didn’t get answers. Is he Gary? Is there really a Gary or was that another crazy story to distract me? Were we running from the law?
My gut tells me it’s bigger than all that. I was trying to stop someone from doing something before all this…and now I might never know what that was.
Now that it’s light, I can see the camper has pretty flower curtains. There’s this bed, a small table and an upholstered chair in the same pattern as the curtains. I move and notice the comforter even matches. This probably belongs to a cute elderly couple, and one or both of them will have a heart attack if they find me in here. A laugh gurgles up my throat as I picture Goldilocks getting caught by the three bears.
Slowly, I pull myself up and push my feet out of the covers. It’s cold, which I expected but apparently wasn’t ready for. I push my feet into my cold shoes and scoot out of the bed and make it behind myself, sitting on the edge.
Do I really want to try standing? That immobilizes me for awhile. I don’t want to face the pain of using my legs, or the fear of thinking about today. So far, I’m doing a good job of blocking any worries or planning. But I make myself move. There’s a bathroom, and when I slide the lever sideways, the toilet flushes. The trailer has water.
I also find a broom and try to sweep out the mess I brought in the night before. Before leaving, I take some money from the bag and slip it into my coat pocket.
The door opens away from the street so I’ll have to lean out to check for anyone. I grab the bag I brought and crack the door. Holding my breath, I open it quickly and step out, checking around.
Faint voices float over from the neighboring backyard. I see a couple with a dog on the other side of the street. They pass and continue on without looking over. Someone could see me from the house across the
way, so I walk out to the sidewalk and start off, making sure I don’t hurry or limp.
I could use a long, hot bath. Black, hot coffee. A massage.
I catch a bus back into the heart of Portland. After walking for a few blocks, I’m on 2nd Avenue notice a Nordstrom’s Rack store. Inside, I browse coats and hats, finding a trendy knitted newsboy-style hat and a scarf, two things I don’t think I’d normally wear, and check out.
As I leave, it occurs to me I should have bought an oversized purse too. If Eli somehow spots me, he’ll recognize the bag right away, won’t he? I’m already outside, however, and keep walking.
I walk for several blocks and end up turning into a drug store. It has all kinds of odds and ends so I’m able to find a pack of permanent black markers. I pass notebooks and grab one of those too. Next I catch the Max train, and while I ride, I color the bag with a marker to turn it black.
My stomach is constantly growling. I get off at the next stop and walk until I find a small café. The aromas inside are so strong and tempting I feel faint. Once I get some coffee in me and have a bagel on the way, I’m ready to plan, so I open the paper to the classifieds.
***
Three hours later, I get off another bus, grab my new-to-me bicycle off the front, and peddle three blocks to a small, greenhouse. There’s a small white RV camper in the driveway with a For Sale sign on the front window. The ad said it was ready to take camping.
Anywhere else, someone might think it strange if someone rode up to their house on a bicycle to buy a camper. But here? I saw bumper stickers everywhere that said, “Keep Portland Weird,” and people riding bicycles in all sorts of strange outfits, including one man in a kilt playing the bagpipes.
The camper’s side has a thick brown stripe and plain tan curtains show through the windows. It’s ugly to tell the truth, but free of moss and mold spots. The wheels are in good condition.
At a squeaking noise, I turn toward the house. A gray headed man peers out of the front door and hurries out. His hair is sticking up like those troll dolls they used to sell in truck stops, and he’s wearing a bright orange T-shirt, athletic shorts, long white songs, and Birkenstocks. His eyes are enlarged behind thick glasses.
“Suzie? Hello, hello!” He grabs my hand and shakes it energetically up and down. “I’m Jack. Here’s the camper. As you can see. She’s ready to go and looking for more adventures. Want to look inside?”
“Sure.” I find myself wishing I could smoke whatever he had. He opens the door and waves me in, remaining in the opening while I look around. Most of the inside is worn and decorated in a 70’s brown and orange color scheme. The seats up front have old wool covers, making them look like the inside of a coat. The dash and floors are clean—I’d been expecting it to be littered with papers after meeting Jack.
“I bought her new,” he tells me from the doorway. “We’re ready for something new, but she’s been a great little camper. Very reliable. I kept up on all the oil changes and maintenance. She runs like a top.”
“Does she have a name?”
“Emily the Great,” he tells me proudly. I catch his mouth trembling as he glances around.
The living space isn’t nearly as nice as the one I slept in last night, but it’ll work. The bed in the back has a mattress and sheet but no blankets. There’s a table with a bench behind it, and the usual stove, tiny bathroom and lots of cupboards. I open one to find tin dishes.
“It’s stocked with the basic supplies. I decided to leave those for the next owner. There’s even half a tank of gas. I tell you, this is a great deal.”
I turn his way. I could negotiate his listing price of two grand, but instead I smile and say, “I’ll take it—her. Emily the Great.”
“Oh, well, great! Great! I’ll get the title.”
I check a few more things while he’s gone. When I turn on a stove burner, it emits gas. I’m happy that works. There aren’t any water spots on the ceiling. It looks like he really did take good care of it. When he comes back, he steps inside and sits down at the table with the title and starts to fill out the back, saying, “What should I put for the buyer? Suzie…?”
“Oh, I can fill that part out.” I set two thousand in cash on the table.
“Oh, right, sure.” He counts the money, signs the title, sets the keys on top of it, and slides it across the table.
I hold out my hand. “Thanks, Jack.”
“Oh, thank you!”
I see him out, load my bicycle inside, and sit behind the wheel. It starts on the first try, and I realize I should have asked to test drive it before buying it. No matter now. I wave at jack and he smiles at me as I leave. He’ll probably report selling it, but I have thirty days before I’m legally required to register it. Will Eli think to check for new registrations? Yes, of course he will. I’ll deal with that later.
Chapter Thirty
I find a Wal-Mart and buy a cheap laptop, sleeping bag, a pillow, blankets, and food, all while trying to appear normal and not a tweaker—I’m so paranoid and scared that I want to look over my shoulder with every step. It’s a miracle security doesn’t notice. It’s raining when I exit, and I race through the downpour, pushing the basket out to the very edge of the lot where I parked. My already overworked heart hurts by the time I get everything inside.
Once I’m done and back in the camper, I pile the supplies on the bench by the table and collapse on the bed.
If Eli had all those expensive cameras at the house, what other resources does he have at his disposal? Where would he look for me? Here in Portland?
When he told me about Gary, he talked about why we chose the tiny town in Oregon. I have to think like Eli to pick a new spot. He’ll make a list of places I’ll run to, including Maine, inner Portland, and…and where? Hopefully he’ll draw a blank like I do.
The one bold move I come up with, the one that might lead to answers, is to head back to Sandy to spy on Eli. It’s so bold it’s stupid. I put it on the back burner for now.
After I get myself calmed down, I drive until I see a phone booth with a phonebook inside. They’re getting rarer and rarer these days. I’d love to have a smartphone but I can’t risk even that. I decide to wait to charge the laptop. The camper is equipped with two old batteries, and I don’t trust how much power they have. It’s better to wait until I have hookups to use them.
I memorize a few addresses out of the phone book, and end up renting a space on a weekly rate in the second park I visit. It’s out east of Beaverton but close to a few small stores. The park is spread out and full of bushes and pines to provide cover, and even with that I find myself watching in every direction.
I can’t go on like this. So I make a mental list of everything that needs done and push through it: hooking up, charging the laptop, putting away supplies, and hiding the money. For that, I put chunks into gallon Ziploc bags and stash it away. Some stays in the bag in case I need to grab it and make a quick getaway. I look at my wedding ring for a minute before pulling it off. It’s too flashy to wear, but I decide to keep the necklace on under my shirt. Before tucking it away, I turn it in the weak light to watch the diamonds glitter. I miss Eli. I find myself hoping he’s not too mad at me, even though I know for sure he is. Mad. Hurt. Frustrated. Too bad I can’t send him a message and let him know I’m okay. I don’t like these conflicting feelings. There has to be a way to turn it all off.
The ring goes in the canvas bag too. It’s worth some money. Pawn shops don’t pay much, but it’s another resource.
Finally, I heat up canned chicken noodle soup on the gas stove, which reminds me of making homemade noodles with Eli. I’m thinking about that when I realize the smell and sound of propane remind me of camping as a young girl. I turn the feeling over in my mind, adding another piece to the spotty puzzle.
I eat the entire can of soup and lay down on the sleeping bag. It’s been… two days since I slept, I think. With a full stomach, it’s even harder to fight sleep and my eyes
shut on their own accord.
Suddenly I’m sitting up. Someone’s pounding on the door.
I look through the side window first, then the other windows, but I don’t see anyone. I grab the gun and sneak to the door, peering out. No one’s there. I can’t see anyone in any direction, but they could be hiding under the window.
The sound comes again, in a steady and rhythmic bam, bam, bam. I look farther out and see a man by his camper, hammering on the side. It’s an older camper like mine, and he appears to be repairing a leak.
My heart is hammering too as I lie back down. It’s harder to fall asleep this time. The rain wakes me. Faint laughter from other campers wakes me. A bird chirping. Every little noise. I spend two days in a half awake, half asleep state trying to rest and recover. The third night I finally crash and sleep hard all through the night.
***
What if Eli decided to let me go? Maybe he realized I don’t know anything, so I don’t matter. It’s been six days now. I’m sitting at the table, holding the heart on my necklace and zipping it back and forth to make a zipper sound. The notebook sits open on the table. I’ve filled out half of it with notes on what I know about Eli from the time spent with him, and what he told me which may or may not be true. At some point, I need to make a game plan and take some steps to figuring out who I really was before.
It’s been a mix of sunshine and rain. Between rainstorms, I scoped out the surrounding area and found a café with free internet. I could take the laptop there but I don’t know what to research.
Sunlight bursts through the window like someone turned on a search light. I pull on my coat and head outside, where it’s chilly but clear. I lock the door and head out on a walk. There’s a path I’ve explored a few times to stretch my legs.
Maybe I should keep moving and drive to another park. Another state. I wonder if it would help my cause to head to Maine, but I don’t know if that part of Eli’s story is true. I wish I could have gathered more information while I was with him, like a real name or person I can track down.