Bohdi clicks through the FBI’s email administration. Technically, he’s not supposed to have access to this, but he’s never been one to let technicalities stand in the way of necessity. He scans the recent activity. “Steve’s email account was cancelled by the FBI director…” He checks an angry note that is in the email admin queue. “It looks like he was trying to have it forwarded to his own email account and blew it.”
“Calling the general of the Illinois National Guard,” says Brett.
“Trying to get in touch with someone I know in the governor’s mansion,” says Bryant.
Bohdi reaches up to push back his bangs. His fingers connect with empty air. He scans the room absently, without really seeing it … and then feels his heart sink in his chest. “Where is Claire?”
Phone to his ear, Dale says, “I can’t get hold of the guys standing guard outside the van.”
“We have to go to the Gate!” says Beatrice. “My granddaughter’s there.”
“I’m getting a car ready!” says Laura, head to her own phone.
Bohdi spins in place. Is she hiding behind some of the boxes? He wants to go with them. He wants to help save Amy and Steve … but he also wants to find Claire … if anything happens to Claire, it will kill Steve.
Dr. Ogawa meets his eyes. “The girl just left the room.”
Bohdi slips his phone away. Claire knows all the streets. Steve made her memorize them in a bout of post near-apocalypse paranoia. She came here … she’s not afraid to travel them on her own.
“I’m going to get her,” Bohdi says, running for the door. “I’ll meet you there!” He tears into the hallway, Fenrir at his feet. He runs to the stairs, leaps down the steps, gets to the ground floor, and crashes through the emergency exit into the alley, not caring about the alarm. Sprinting to the sidewalk, he bounces on his feet to see over the pedestrians on LaSalle. Where LaSalle intersects with Jackson, he hears cars come to a screeching halt and sees Claire dart across the road and head west.
“Claire!” he shouts, racing down LaSalle to Jackson. Traffic is whizzing by, so he runs down Jackson on the north side of the street. He’s almost parallel to her. He yells, “Claire, wait!” and prepares to cut across the street when his view is cut off by a flotilla of City of Gods tour buses.
x x x x
Claire hears Bohdi call her name but doesn’t slow down. She dashes down Financial Place, catches the crossing signal on Van Buren, and then turns right and races west. The elevated tracks of the ’L’run above Van Buren, and the screech of train wheels keeps the pedestrians away. She doesn’t have as many people to dodge, and the air is cooler. She opens up her stride and runs as fast as she can, ignoring the strange looks and the beat cop that yells at her. She sees the incline that leads to the bridge across the river and the hulking form of the old post office beyond the bridge. It’s when she crests the arch of the bridge that she first starts to feel tired and the first burn in her muscles. She forces herself to take deeper breaths and to pump her arms in better time.
She races through the shadow of the post office and reaches the Van Buren and Canal Street intersection. Only one more full city block to go. As her feet reach the corner of the intersection the light changes in her favor, and she races across. The street slopes downward and she can see all the way to Des Plaines Avenue. There are cones, police officers, and a crowd of people. They’ll never let her through. They’ll say she’s a kid and that they’ll get her father for her. She stops, her breath ragged, eyes beginning to go hot again. And then she looks left. The bridge that goes over Des Plaines actually is a long overpass that carries interstate 290 over the city streets. She remembers a trip she took to the bus station to pick up her second cousin from Alabama. There is a narrow street that goes right under 290 and opens up by Des Plaines. She can spy the opening to the side street from Van Buren. There are no police cars, so she runs toward the small roadway. She reaches it and pauses to catch her breath. The street is dingy, filled with potholes, and in the shadow of the overpass. It is dark and spooky, too, a place where trolls would pop out. She hesitates for an instant. Then she thinks of her father, telling her how brave she is. She charges down the street.
There are a few more intersections to cross, but the streets are mostly empty. Up ahead she sees a man wearing a yellow and orange vest, a street cleaner. She might be faster than him. As she gets closer she sees a boxy-van-truck thing that says Streets and Sanitation on the side. Behind her, she hears Bohdi shout, “Claire, wait!”
The guy in the yellow and orange vest turns sharply in the direction of Bohdi’s voice. His eyes go to Claire, get very wide, and he moves to intercept her.
She keeps running.
Behind her, Bohdi shouts again, “Catch her! That’s Steve’s Rogers kid!”
The sanitation guy moves too fast. He’s in front of Claire, grabbing her by her wrists before she can dodge him. She tries to pound her fists into his shoulder, but he’s too strong. “My dad’s in trouble! My dad’s in trouble! Something’s going wrong!” she says.
“Shhhhh … I know,” he says, dropping his face so he can meet her eyes. He’s a white guy, and his eyes are very blue. His hat is funny for a sanitation guy. It looks like a soldier hat, but it’s white.
“Did you run all the way here?”
Claire nods, still trying to pound her fists into his shoulder.
“You’re very brave,” he says.
Claire stops struggling.