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THE SMALL TOWN PROMISED an idyllic atmosphere—peaceful, serene, and secure. A nostalgic image of childhood days long gone. For a lingering moment, Aubrey and Jane stood motionless, each absorbed in her own thoughts.
If only I could block out everything that’s happened in the past couple of days. I could convince myself I’m on vacation with a friend.
The quaint little village, a peaceful oasis in the country, harkened back to a time when her life was less complicated. The only element missing in the picturesque scene was a gentle snowfall, large flakes lazily adding to pristine banks of snow lining the quiet streets.
Except it’s not winter, there’s no postcard snowflakes, and Jane the Snake is my traveling buddy.
They’d spoken very little following Jane’s shocking admission that she’d killed a Runner who . . . What, exactly? What was all this talk about ‘in the blood’? What does that even mean?
Even if Jane acted in self-defense, Aubrey was appalled to learn her companion was capable of executing someone she claimed to care about.
There were more unanswered questions than answered. But I can’t interrogate Jane like a common criminal. First off, she’d probably beat me senseless. Second, I’m not so heartless that I’d pry into an obviously sensitive area.
Despite this, she couldn’t quell her curiosity about Jane’s cryptic comments. Ignorance wasn’t bliss, as the old saying claimed. Where Implants and the Soul-less were concerned, ignorance could be fatal.
Aubrey chewed pensively on her lower lip, impatient to learn more, but reluctant to broach the subject with her short-fused guide.
They’d made good progress since leaving the tunnels, taking advantage of what remained of the waning daylight. In that regard, they’d been fortunate. The moon was full, and they hadn’t been forced to slow down even after the sun slipped below the horizon.
Jane remained her tight-lipped self—even more so—as she led Aubrey through the dense forest. The pace she set was a demanding one, even for her, but Jane showed no interest in slowing down.
Try as she might, Aubrey wasn’t able to match Jane’s ease in navigating the underbrush. The stubborn and unforgiving branches lashed Aubrey’s face and arms, covering her in scratches and bruises.
She learned early not to allow even the slightest expulsion of breath whenever the rough bark and needles made their mark, or she’d reap Jane’s icy glare. Jane didn’t emerge from their trek without her own bloody markings, but to Aubrey’s chagrin, Jane’s nicks and cuts were much fewer.
They stood shoulder-to-shoulder a short distance from the sheltering trees, facing the town, ready to turn and bolt at the first sign of danger.
As was to be expected in a small town, electrical power was at a premium. The few lights shining through intermittent windows appeared to be oil-burning lanterns.
Just like home. Aubrey felt a sharp pang of homesickness. Reality came rushing back, driving nostalgia away. The home she’d once known was forever changed.
The folksy kitchen where she’d sat with Thomas and Sarah just days earlier, the quiet street she’d thought of as home . . . Would the mere sight of her former neighborhood only evoke nightmares from now on?
I wonder if I could ever live there again, even if it’s possible. She’d given no thought to what her future might look like, beyond staying alive and trying to understand the bits of information she’d been able to collect.
This feels like a bad dream I can’t wake up from.
Jane was never inclined to casual conversation. She continued much as she had before—impatient, abrasive and hostile. Her stark admission to killing another Runner, someone she knew, provided a grim background to her caustic persona, but didn’t do anything to make her more likable.
“Where are we going next?” Aubrey stage-whispered, wondering if it might be wiser to keep her mouth shut. Her curiosity was greater than her nervousness, even at the risk of provoking another bitter tirade.
Jane didn’t answer right away, continuing her diligent survey of the small town, as if daring it to start something. Her probing gaze took in every angle, every shadow, every possible hiding place. It was clear, even to Aubrey’s inexperienced eye, that Jane was becoming hyper-vigilant as they neared their destination.
“There’s a way stop here.” Jane’s murmured reply slipped through lips which barely moved. “A pathetic little excuse for a café, hidden in plain sight. The owner is a conduit for communications and weapons. He’ll be able to hide us for a short while. Maybe until morning. We can get a message to Amos through him.”
“Who’s Amos? That’s the second time you’ve mentioned him.” Aubrey couldn’t resist probing for more information. She scrutinized the outskirts of the town, taking her cues from Jane, although she had no idea what she should be looking for. I didn’t sign up for this. I’m just not equipped.
Jane continued her silent reconnaissance, and Aubrey wondered if she’d gone too far.
“He’s the other Runner in our Hub,” Jane said at last. “Just him, and you. The only two people with Implants.”
Aubrey pivoted to face her. “I thought you said we’re all Runners, not just the ones who have Implants.”
Jane glanced at her with a smirk. “Technically, yes. But you and Amos are the only ones with Trackers on your trail. Follow me, Country Girl.”
With that, Jane began a soundless lope out of the overhang of the forest. The tension in her arms and shoulders betrayed her trepidation at exposing their position.
Aubrey tried her best to imitate Jane’s unusual gait, once again forced to admit grudging admiration for her skills. She caught up to Jane and maintained her position, just a stride behind and to the left.
They were making for the rear of a small café on the corner of the nearest street. A meager amount of lamplight filtered through the windows, but the café gave every appearance of having closed for the evening.
There was a faint glimmer of light peeking around the edges of the rear door facing the alley. Aubrey could just make out the ancient and rusted light fixture hanging over the door, giving mute testimony to days gone by when electrical power had been taken for granted.
A small wooden stoop, less than two meters square, was accessible by three sagging steps leading up to the rear door. All in all, it wasn’t a welcoming entrance into the café.
Funny, the things I notice. Aubrey’s helplessness blossomed into cynicism. Jane sees the clues about safe or not-safe passage. All I see is broken light fixtures and rotting wood.
The lights in the café dimmed abruptly, plunging the building’s exterior into darkness. The full moon provided ghostly illumination. Aubrey saw her own shadow on the ground ahead of her, its movement matching hers in an eerie pantomime.
Jane froze mid-stride, every muscle tense as she crouched, low to the ground. Aubrey ducked down to join her, but skidded on the gravel, sending a few small pebbles skittering ahead. It sounded like an avalanche to her frightened ears.
Jane made no move, not even to glare at Aubrey for the slight noise. If anything, it was Jane’s lack of caustic rebuke which scared Aubrey the most. They were perhaps two meters from the back door. Did the extinguishing of the lanterns mean something? Was it a signal? A warning?
Aubrey was about to risk asking, when she heard Jane’s sharp intake of breath. The doorknob was slowly turning, the furtive motion reminding Aubrey of their ordeal in the safe house—was it only yesterday?
The faint light leaking out around the door vanished, mimicking the doused lanterns in the front of the café.
Someone was coming out. Or some Thing.