Chapter 39

 

JESSIE HELD HER breath as her chest and throat tickled. The guard, or whoever it was, had taken up residence in the waiting room and wasn’t moving. Miss Locks was semi-conscious, slumped against the wall. Jessie wasn’t sure if she was going to cough, Miss Locks was going to faint, or the alarm would be raised first.

“Nan,” Jessie whispered in her lowest whisper. “Nan, are you there?”

“What’s up, Mousey? Oh.” Nan tutted and Jessie felt her near Miss Locks. “She need another wake up?”

“There’s a guard.” She pointed to the screen in front of her. “We’re stuck.”

Nan tutted again. “You know how to get out if he ain’t lurkin’?”

Jessie glanced at Miss Locks. She had said there was a fire door in the office. They could get through the door in this room . . . if they could get past the guard. Jessie nodded. Not sure if her continued whispers would make her wheeze louder. Her chest was getting worse. She needed her inhaler soon.

“Take it, Mousey, and get ready to move.”

Jessie pulled out her inhaler and did as told. She was going to start coughing if she didn’t. “What are you going to do?”

“Something I ain’t meant to but I ain’t watching you get stuck.”

Jessie took hold of Miss Lock’s arm and her eyes fluttered open. “Nan is going to help.”

Miss Locks smiled.

Bam.

Jessie jumped, only stopping herself from squealing by covering her mouth.

“What the . . . ?” Jessie heard a man mutter. He sounded like he walked toward the door.

Crash.

Jessie jumped again. Frei held onto her this time. The crash was near them. She tensed as the man walked toward them. His footfalls loud.

Bam.

Crash.

Bam.

“Hey, Jeff, we got rats or something?” the man blurted.

“In this dump? I’d say so.” Another voice, crackly, like it was on a radio.

Bam.

“Any ideas?” He sounded tenser by the minute.

Jessie smiled.

“You want to feed them cheese? What do I care, just don’t set off the alarms.” Jeff, whoever he was, crackled the speaker with his sigh. “I got some traps up here, come get them.”

The man carried on muttering as it sounded like he opened the door. Jessie breathed out her relief as the door shut and his voice faded.

“Thanks, Nan.” Jessie hauled Miss Locks up and she stumbled forward.

“You’re welcome.”

The breeze faded and Jessie headed up a ramp into a pokey office. She spotted the fire door and glanced up at Miss Locks. “It’s alarmed.”

Miss Locks nodded. “No bypass.”

Jessie sighed. They couldn’t stay here. They’d set off alarms anyway. She took a deep breath, pressed the bar, and shoved the door open. A red light flickered. She pulled Miss Locks outside and slammed it shut.

“My car isn’t far.” Miss Locks staggered alongside her as they slipped and slid their way up the metal steps. “If I pass out, stick my thumb on the steering wheel.”

They reached the top of the steps. The large truck loading bay was between them and the gate to the street.

She pulled Miss Locks into motion and handed her the pistol she’d pinched from the guard in their cell. “I don’t think I can fire it.”

Miss Locks smiled. “Let’s hope I don’t have to. I can see two of you.”

They stumbled their way from truck to truck. She expected guards and guns like back in Caprock but it was quiet. “I don’t understand.”

“Guards haven’t seen the light yet. Keep moving.” They made it to the metal gate. The chain locked it in place. Miss Locks pulled out something from her waistband. “You remember our sessions?”

Jessie nodded. She took the picks and started on the lock. It clunked and fell loose. “I did it.”

“Good. Make sure you keep it.” Miss Locks held open the gate, ushered her through, and held out the lock for her. “Trophy.”

Jessie took it. A light flashed in the window of the warehouse.

“Looks like they’ve stopped looking for rats.” Miss Locks shoved herself forward and gripped Jessie’s arm. She hadn’t had the energy to stand a moment ago, now she was moving faster than Jessie could keep up with. “I don’t have a lot in the tank.”

“You’re sick.”

Bam.

Bam.

Gunfire.

Miss Locks started sprinting. “I meant the car.”

Jessie stumbled, her chest heavy. “I can’t keep up.”

Miss Locks yanked her upward and Jessie gripped onto her shoulders being carried piggy-back. “You know how to drive?”

“No. I rode a bike . . . once.”

They headed into a small section of warehouses and Miss Locks dropped her. “Under the cover.”

Jessie helped her yank off the cover, a sleek red sports car underneath. Even she knew the badge. Miss Locks got in the passenger side so Jessie took the driver’s seat. She could barely touch the peddles.

“Adjust it, here.”

Jessie followed the instruction. The seat moved and dipped.

“I drive a manual.” She met Jessie’s eyes. “It’s got an automatic function, so press that.” She pointed to a button on the dash. Jessie pressed it and the dashboard lights turned green. “Left to stop, right to go.”

She could do that.

Miss Locks put her thumb to the dash. “We have a quarter of a tank. Follow the instructions the car gives you till then.”

Her voice sounded heavy. Jessie could see she was in a lot of pain.

She hit the gas and the car lurched forward. She yanked at the wheel to stop them smashing through the opposite wall into the river.

“That’s it.” Miss Lock’s smiled as Jessie hit the gas again and they shot down the road. “You’re a natural.”

Jessie hoped so. “Can we call someone?”

Miss Locks reached over and pressed something on the dash. A ringing sound filled the car.

“Hello?” a woman said.

Miss Locks’s head rolled to the side. Jessie held on as she burst through a red light. She didn’t want to stop. Cars swerved and honked but she zipped through before they hit.

Phew.

“Hello?” The woman was still on the line.

She took a deep breath, gripping onto the wheel. “Are you a friend of Miss Locks?”

“Who is this?” She could hear voices in the background. “Jessie, Jessie is that you?”

She sighed with relief. It sounded like Miss Samson. It wasn’t her but it made her feel safe. “Are you her friend?”

“I’m agent Lilia Lorelei, Jessie. I’m Aeron’s mother . . . and her boss. Are you with . . . Miss Locks?”

Jessie blew out a breath. “Yes. She’s sick.”

“I know she is. Aeron and . . . Professor Worthington are on their way to you.”

“Professor Worthington?” another voice, a woman, asked.

“Never mind,” Lilia said. She grinned. Aeron’s mom. Cool. “Jessie, are you alright?”

She nodded then shook her head, tears in her eyes. “She had to come rescue me. I messed up.”

“No, no, you didn’t.” Lilia’s voice was gentle. “I want you to reach into the middle console and pull out a small plastic object.”

Jessie did just that. “It’s a tracker.”

“Yes, it is. Aeron and . . . Professor Worthington . . . are going to follow it to you, okay?”

She sucked in her breath. “Professor Worthington?” She shook her head. “She likes being called Renee better.”

“Renee?” The lady in the background sounded shocked.

A light bounced off the mirror into her eyes. “I have to go. The police are following me.”

She spotted the button with a phone on the wheel and pressed it.

Police.

Right.

How did she outrun the police?