“Eric…” She smoothed his hair away from his forehead, her hands cradling his face.
He put his own hands up, pressing hers against his cheeks. “Good-bye, Casey Smith.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Good-bye, Eric Jones.”
She leaned forward and touched his lips briefly with hers.
Looking into his eyes one more time she pushed herself up, and ran.
Chapter Forty-Six
Casey could hear the sirens coming from every direction.
Ducking out the back of the theater, she raced to the cover of the neighbor’s yard, wishing the darkness weren’t already disappearing into dawn. Avoiding main streets, she listened carefully for the placement of the sirens, staying clear of them as she ran. Almost more dangerous were the houses, with their windows. The residents of Clymer had to be hearing the morning’s activities, and the sight of a woman sprinting through their back alleys wouldn’t be something they’d ignore. With a stab of grief she knew she didn’t dare try to get back to Eric’s block, where her bag waited in his neighbor’s garage.
Sticking to the tree lines, Casey made her way toward the only place she could think of. The only chance she had. She prayed the cops had abandoned their post there, thinking they had her at the theater.
She approached the outer part of town more slowly. Just a person walking along the sidewalk. No hurry. No worries.
The Burger Palace parking lot was devoid of cop cars. She could see it even as she approached. The diner had its usual empty lot. She was in the clear.
Slipping in the side of The Burger Palace, she was able to avoid the eye of the girl at the counter and make her way to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and kept her eyes away from the mirror. Stripping off her shirt, she scrubbed her face and neck, the water in the basin turning pink. Again, blood that was not her own.
After rinsing off her head and rubbing it with paper towels, she ran her fingers through her hair before daring a glance in the mirror. There she was, a clean-faced woman who’d just taken a shower and had come to grab a quick cup of coffee before work. The lip wasn’t attractive, certainly, but at least it wasn’t bleeding. Not like her shoulder, which had reopened in the fight. She pressed some paper towels against it, hoping it would soon clot again.
She turned the black sweatshirt inside out to hide the blood spatters, wishing she had something else to change into. But it would have to do. She shuddered as she pulled it over her head.
She worked at a few stains on her pants, but her lower half had escaped the worst of the mess, being blocked by Eric’s body when it had happened.
Her shoes were clean.
She closed her eyes, shivering. It was time to move on.
The man just leaving The Burger Palace when she exited the bathroom headed toward a truck in the back lot.
Casey followed him. “Hey, buddy. Okay if I grab a lift for a while?”
He turned, his eyes raking over her wet hair, her swollen lip, and her inside-out shirt. He shrugged. “Why not? I could use some company this morning. Wake me up a bit.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Any bags?”
Casey’s breath caught, and she forced a smile. “Nope. Just me.”
“No problem. I need to check something in the back, and I’ll be ready to go.” He loped toward the rear of the truck.
Casey walked around the front of the cab, hesitating at the passenger door.
“So where are you going now?”
Casey shook her head. “Where do you think I should go?”
Death shrugged. “Somewhere interesting.”
Casey took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly. “Things have been pretty interesting for the last ten hours or so. Where have you been?”
Death gave a small, sad smile. “I’ve been right beside you, Casey.”
Casey blinked. “But I haven’t seen you.”
“Why do you think that is?”
Casey took a breath that was half a sob. She closed her eyes and pressed on them with her thumb and forefinger. “I’m so tired.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
Opening her eyes, Casey looked back in the direction of town.
“They’ll be all right,” Death said.
“Who?”
“Eric. Lillian and Rosemary. The town. They’ll be all right without you. You’ve done what you could.”
Casey looked up at the sky. It was beautiful. Pinks and reds and oranges, heralding the sun. Her bones ached. Her lip throbbed. Her shoulder wound would probably soon leak through her shirt.
She opened the truck door and looked up into the interior. The driver had returned, and was belting himself in. Still plenty of room. Enough for three.
“So,” she said to Death, waving a hand at the cab. “Are you coming, or not?”
In the blink of an eye, Death was perched in the middle of the seat. The trucker didn’t flinch.
Casey stepped up onto the running board and into the cab. She shut the door. Closed her eyes. Leaned back against the headrest.
“Where you off to?” the trucker said.
But Casey was already asleep.