Nowhere to Run - Chapter 8

The sun was going down when Michael stopped at a grocery store. He handed Evie three twenties. “Here, take this and get some food.”

“Why don’t we just stop at a restaurant?”

“No, we need traveling food.”

“Traveling food?”

“You know, lunchmeat, peanut butter and jelly, bread, something to drink. Maybe, a, you might need some personal items?” Before she could answer he said, “Get whatever you need.”

Evie added fruit, yogurt and a newspaper to the list and come out with two dollars and forty-three cents change.  She was standing outside the store with her bags when Michael came tooling up in a big black Lincoln.

     “What’s this?” Evie leaned in the window.

     “Just get in.”

     Once settled in the plush leather seat Evie sighed. She didn’t want to ask where it came from. The fact that he probably stole it burned too brightly in her mind. She figured until they got somewhere safe, they really had no choice in how they traveled. She did her best to leave the cars in pristine condition, so it could be returned to its owner. All her money and identification was back at the boarding house and remembering what Michael was wearing, she doubted he had any either. So where was he was getting the money for food or gas?

     Evie stretched out her legs and reclined the seat.  It was comfortable and roomier than the minivan had been. She couldn’t help herself, the unexpected luxury had her purring like a cat.

     “Don’t get too used to it, sweetheart.” Michael smiled as he watched.

     “Mmmmmm...” she closed her eyes.

     “We’re not going to be able to keep it long," he warned.

     “Oh, shut up and let me enjoy the moment.”

     “Shut up?”

“Yeah,” she smiled and adjusted the air conditioning vents, “Shut up and drive.”

     She punched the buttons on the radio and found a country station.  Michael just shook his head. Let her enjoy it, he thought. After all, she deserved a bit of indulgence, they had been running hard and he had no idea where they would end up.

     It was late evening before they stopped at a small motel on the outskirts of a modest sized town in Pennsylvania. The shingles were falling off and it was badly in need of paint.  Michael got a room and pulled the car around back to the last room on the left, out of sight from the street. 

Once in the room Evie gingerly lifted the edge of the bedspread and checked the sheets.

     “Find any wildlife?” Michael joked.

     Evie looked at him and wrinkled her nose.

     “Okay, so it’s not the Hilton. But it’s out of the way enough to buy us some time.  I promise our next place will be a palace, okay?”

     "I don't ask for fancy," she stated, "but I'd like it to be clean."

     "It's not too bad." Michael could admit this, he had stayed in worse.

     Evie made a face and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower. Where will you be? Did you get the room next door?”

     Michael just looked at her without saying a word.

     “Oh, no...” Evie began to protest, shaking her head and holding her hands up as if to ward him off.

     “Evie, we’re low on funds. And besides it will be much safer this way. If you were alone here and they were to come...”

     “But it’s not right. I don’t do things like that.  There is only one bed and I know this is a new century and all but I’m an old fashioned kind of girl. I don’t...”

     “Hey,” Michael held up his hands innocently, “Relax. I’m not going to molest you or anything. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can go right on being an old fashioned girl.”

     Now, he was laughing at her, she thought and snapped at him. “That’s not funny.”

     “I can appreciate your values and respect you for it.” Michael said as earnestly as he could while trying to fight a smile. He didn't want her mad at him. He thought old fashion values were commendable.

     “You're making fun of me.”

     “No, Evie, I’m not.”

     Evie scowled at him and headed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and flicking the lock.

     Michael stood there a long time staring at the bathroom door.  An old fashioned girl. Imagine that? He smiled to himself; an old fashioned girl. Going to the bathroom door he hesitated, he wanted to knock and explain to her that he wasn't laughing at her, he was smiling because...because …hell! He didn’t know why he was smiling. Standing just inches from the door he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to talk to her at all. What was he going to say?  He kind of liked it that she was an old fashion girl? Then he heard the shower start and his mind went to other things.  He remembered all too clearly her soft curves beneath him when he wrestled her on the bed, helping her down from the roof, holding her when she cried. The thought of her undressing, dropping her clothes one by one onto the floor. Stepping under the hot steamy water.

     He spun around and headed out of the door.

     Michael awoke early the next morning and went out immediately to give Evie some private time. He had some things he wanted to get done and it would be easier if she wasn’t with him. When he got back Evie was up and ready to go.

     “Good Morning, Angel. Ready?” Michael asked cheerfully.

     Evie avoided eye contact, still mad from the night before, she grabbed the duffel bag Michael had supplied her with, yesterday's newspaper that she had been too tired to read last night, and stormed past him out into the sunshine.

"Okay," Michael said to himself, "That went well."

 He grabbed the ice chest and followed her out. Evie had stopped on the porch and was looking around for the Lincoln, but it was nowhere in sight.

Knowing she wasn't going to be thrilled their newest mode of transportation, Michael strode right past her to an old Volkswagen beetle at the end of the lot. 

It may have once been orange, but the combination of rust and body filler made an exact determination impossible.  Michael lifted the front trunk and stowed the ice chest inside. When he turned to Evie to take her things, he found she hadn’t followed him. She had stopped and was staring at him in disbelief. When she finally started moving toward the car Michael remarked, “You can close your mouth now.”

     Evie snapped her jaw shut. She hadn’t realized she was gaping.  Her eyes wandered over the old car.

“Surely, you don’t expect to drive about in this …this …this thing!” She looked at him. "What is this supposed to be?"

     "Your chariot, princess."

Michael took the bag from her hands and stowed it in beside the ice chest. He didn't need a scene right now.

“Get in. We need to get moving.” He tried to ignore her glare as she slowly circled the little car. Taking in every dent, rust hole and splotch of paint filler that was holding the decrepit wreck together.  The only things that looked good on the beast were the tires. They looked almost new. 

     Michael moved to the driver's side and waited patiently for her to finish gawking and say something.

     Finally she spoke, “Is this the best you can do?  I mean really! We went from a Lincoln to...to...to an egg-car?”

     “Get in the car.” He repeated as he got in and closed the door.  Finding a car that wouldn’t be missed for a while wasn't an easy thing to do. He had been out for an hour before he had found this one parked beside someone’s shed.

     Evie stood there until he started the car then reluctantly got in.

     “Ewwww... it’s just like an egg on the inside too, all white and round.” She whined and threw the newspaper she had been carrying on the floor.

     Michael surpressed a smile, the round white interior did resemble the inside of an egg, but he could only mutter, “It’s a classic.”

     “Do you really think this is what we should be driving?”

     Michael shrugged.

     “I mean, what if we’re chased?  Those men will be able to catch us easily in this bomb. Have you lost your marbles?”

     “So, now you’re telling me what to drive?” He remembered when she was so frightened she followed him without question. “You know, I’ve been doing just fine on my own for the past few years.”

“They found you, didn’t they?” Evie couldn’t help sniping. There was a spring from the seat digging into her leg and she shifted toward the door.

Michael shot her a warning look and Evie shrugged.

“Well, they did.”

He decided to ignore that, “You don’t understand that this car will blend in. No one will suspect us to be driving a vintage bug.”

“Still not your best choice. Another minivan would have been a better car.”

     “It’s fine. The engine’s fair and tire’s are good." He explained calmly, "It will get us into Ohio. They are not going to suspect we would be driving this.”

     That's for sure...." Then she realized what he had said, "Ohio? We’re going to Ohio?”

     “Yeah, it's as good a place as any to lie low for awhile.” Michael said as he turned on to the main highway that would take them through the middle of the little town and out onto the interstate. It was the quickest route to where he wanted to go.  

     Evie folded her arms and sunk down in the seat. She had had just about enough of this game. She couldn't wait to go home. Back to her safe little existence at the boarding house, boring job, boring life. Oh, how she missed it. They hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of the Team since Sunday morning. After the mess at the boarding house, she doubted they would show their faces there for a long time. Then she remembered the newspaper she had carried out with her and thrown on the floor.  She retrieved it and opened it up. Nothing. She turned the page, still nothing. It wasn't until page thirteen that she found a small blurb.

     'DRUG BUST ENDS IN HAIL OF BULLETS'

     “Drug bust?” Evie turned to Michael, “It says it was a drug bust gone wrong.”

     Evie read on about how the boarding house was used as a drug dealer's den.

“It says drug dealers and prostitutes lived there!” Evie was outraged! Sweet Mrs. Rodriguez was being called a drug dealer.

     "DRUG DEALERS!" She practically shouted as she sat up straight.

“I know. I read it last night.”

"Michael, it says Mrs. Rodredgis was a drug dealer.  All the women in the house were prostitutes who would do anything for a fix. I can't believe this."

"Calm down, Evie.  You know it isn't true."

"Yes, but Michael what will people think of poor Mrs. Rodredgis? All the neighbors, the people from her church! Oh poor Mrs. Rodredgis!"

"It doesn't really matter to her now, Evie." Michael said as gently as he could. “She’s in a better place.”

She lifted her gaze from the paper and stared at him.  Confused for a moment and until it sunk in. The only way it wouldn't matter to Mrs. Rodredgis was if she was…

"Oh, no, she isn't…" Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Evie, surely you realized…”

"No, Michael, I tried not to think about it." Her tears flowed now, coursing down her pale cheeks unchecked.

“If you read further down.” Michael said. “It says the officer’s were in a shoot out against drug lords.”

Evie’s breath hitched and she started sobbing.

"Evie, please, don't." He hadn't realized she was in such denial. "I'll pull over."   

Michael looked for a break in traffic so he could find a place to park, but Evie stopped him.

"No, don't stop."

"Evie, I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

"Just drive." She wiped her eyes and stared straight ahead, "Keep going. I just want to…to…to…go, just go."

Michael unsure of what to do or say, drove on. The quiet broken only by an occasional sniff from Evie as she cried softly.  Mourning the woman who had become a good friend to her in these last few months. She said a prayer and knew such a nice lady was sitting up in heaven now looking down.

“Mrs. Rodriguez was just too nice to die like that.” Evie sniffed.  

Michael didn't know what to say. He had never been good with crying women and usually avoided them at all costs, but Evie made him want to be able to do something to console her.     “I wish I could make this all go away.” He had seen how close she was to the land lady.  As he was earning his keep doing odd jobs around the boarding house he had often seen them chatting or having tea together.  He felt Mrs. Rodriguez’s loss too. She had been a sweet old woman who was nothing but kind to him and look how he paid her back. His living in her home had been the death of her. The guilt was on his shoulders. He drove for another hour before Evie spoke up.

“I’m going back.” She said, “I have to go back and tell them the truth.”

     Michael looked at her. “I explained this, Evie.

Did she not understand that neither of them could ever go back to that town or that life again. Hadn’t she been listening to anything he said?

“This is something I have to do.” Evie was calmer now. “When do you think it will be safe to go back?”

     “Never.” he said, his jaw tightening. Unable to look at her he kept his eyes locked on the road. “We will find you a new life and you’ll be okay. I promise.”

     That was unacceptable, she shook her head. “Michael—“

     “I’m sorry. I thought you understood. I explained it.”

     “D-don’t be ridiculous!” the frustration began to rise inside her. “I have to go back. To clear Mrs. Rodriguez and I have a job. I have plans for my life.”

     “Evie...”

     “All my stuff is back there! I have to go back. I left my purse on the floor. My savings account book is in the drawer. All my money and my photographs! Pictures of my mom.” Evie slammed her hand down on the dashboard. “I ran once, I won’t do it again.”

     Michael stared at her. He wanted to ask what she ran from but instead he said, “Evie, I’m sorry. I thought you understood how dangerous these men are.”

     “Let me out of this car right now!” Evie lifted the handle and opened the door, swinging it wide before he could apply the brakes.

     “Evie, stop!”

     Evie wasn’t listening and he was forced to slow the car. She was out the door before Michael could bring it to a full stop. Anger and frustration propelled her forward as she tripped up the curb, regained her balance and took off down the street. Walking at first, then as she heard Michael shout her name, she began to move faster.  They were on the main drag in the town, lined by quaint little shops and restaurants, but Evie’s eyes were blurred with tears and she didn’t see any of it. She only knew that she had to get away from him. Michael Connors had caused all this and now Mrs. Rodriguez was dead. He was trying to take her life away and put her in run down fleabag motels as he drove her around in rusted out insect cars. And she was done with him.

Evie hurried down the street, away from him, the man who had caused all this chaos in her life. She was going to the police, too.

Government agency, my ass! She thought. He had to be lying to her. The U.S. Government doesn’t kill little old ladies for no good reason.

     “Evie!” Michael called to her. He was still standing beside the car.  He couldn’t believe she was just leaving like this, running down the sidewalk in broad daylight. Hadn’t he explained how much danger they were in? The Team could be anywhere.

Evie ran erratically, bumping into people on the crowded street as she tried to get away. Everyone was staring and Michael knew their faces would be remembered.

“Where does she think she’s going?” Michael said. With no money, no car, no place to live, all she had were the clothes on her back. He had to reach her before she did something stupid. Annoyed, he slammed the car door and went after her on foot.

Evie walked as fast as she could. She wasn’t sure if he was going to try to drag her back or if he would just say good riddance. All she knew was she just had to get away from him.

“Who the heck does he think he is anyway?” she said to herself. “How dare he think I’d stand for this?”

To give up her whole life just on his say so. She had done that once before. Believed in Scott, let him berate her and beat her and she was not going to get trapped like that again. She had control, damn it! This was her life and no man, not Michael Connors or those men back at the house were going to take that away from her.

“His story was probably all a lie,” she decided. “All this stuff about the Team and terrorists is just something his sick little mind thought up. A way to control her.”

 Maybe he was some kind of psycho who got his kicks dragging women around the country. The police might even know about him. Know that he was some kind of stalker, psycho, woman-harassing jerk. They probably even had a file on him somewhere. It was all lies. Yes, Evie decided, he was lying to her the whole time. Damn him!

     “Evie!”

     She glanced over her shoulder. It took her a minute to pick him out in the crowd, but when she spotted him, he was way too close. She broke into a run, staying close to the curb trying to avoid the morning crowds.

“Evie, wait!”

Suddenly, a car parked by the curb opened a door and blocked her path.  Evie caught her hip hard on the edge of the swinging door and stumbled. Before she hit the ground strong hands pulled her up.

     “Well, well, nice of you to fall into our hands, Evelyn.”

     The man spun her around and pulled her tight against his body as if in a lover’s embrace. One arm locked around her waist, the other hand putting a tight grip on her hair. He jerked her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

     The man was tall, at least six foot six, and gaunt. Sullen cheeks and dark eyes. He grinned down at her exposing horse-like teeth. Evie tried to turn away, but he held her tight.

     “Where is Michaels?”

     “Let go of me!” Evie screamed. “Help! Let me go!”

     “Shut up!” The man roughly tossed into the back of the car where another man pinned her arms and locked one sweaty palm over her mouth.