“Christ,” he huffed. “I almost beat you to the Jeep.”
“I wasn’t expecting Olympic sprinters in the group,” replied Charlie, out of breath.
Once Charlie was inside, Alex slammed the door and jumped onto the running board.
“I’m on! Let’s go!”
The Jeep pitched forward, nearly yanking his bloody grip from the front passenger window. He hugged the side of the Jeep as Ed accelerated down the Maine Turnpike Approach Road, risking a glance behind them at the rapidly disappearing intersection. The bulk of the mob emerged from the bushes and swarmed the far side of the intersection, bringing at least thirty men and women into the open. From what he could tell, none of them crossed the intersection.
“Slow down!” he yelled through the window.
He heard Charlie repeat the request and felt the stiff wind weaken.
“You all right?” asked Alex, leaning his head near the window.
Charlie poked his head partway out of the window, staring at the bright red arterial spray covering Alex’s hand. “I’m fine. What about you?”
“Good to go!” he said, forming a scarlet red thumbs-up.
He was far from “good to go.” He’d just run a man through with a bayonet, leaving him to bleed out onto a dirty asphalt parking lot. The man represented an imminent threat to their group, just like Jamie’s husband.
Both of them had to go.
Emotionally and intellectually, he didn’t like his ease of transition into this frame of mind. Rationally, his experiences more than justified the evolution. His reluctance to embrace a “kill or be killed” mentality during the Jakarta Pandemic had resulted in disaster. He couldn’t make that mistake again. Threats to his rescue mission would be neutralized with extreme prejudice. Terminated if necessary.
The trick was to avoid these situations if possible. “Force application” was a dual-edged sword, attracting unwanted attention while inviting a similar, violent response. The parking lot was a perfect example.
Staging their final rally point in the Best Western’s parking lot had been a bad idea. One that had nearly cost them everything at the very start of their journey. He’d underestimated the number of refugees scattered around the hotel, and should have kept driving when it became apparent. Most importantly, he failed to anticipate the rapid rate at which their reception to Alex’s group would deteriorate. This should have been obvious from the start.
His group was well organized, which more than likely gave the mob the distinct impression that they had a plan. It probably didn’t take them long to figure out that the plan included a destination close enough to reach by bicycle. Some had been interested in learning more about their final destination. Questions hurled at them verified this. Others were solely interested in acquiring a mode of transportation to achieve their own objectives. Some of the more aggressive and vocal members of the crowd had suggested that they “double up” on the bikes and leave the rest behind.
All of them were hungry for information, and desperation lurked dangerously close to the surface. He couldn’t afford to misjudge the immediate and lasting effects of desperation again. He had to assume that everyone outside of his own circle had the worst intentions, and plan accordingly—regardless of the situation. Looks could be deceiving. Sympathies could be played. He hated to think like this, but their short-and long-term survival would depend on it.
Alex’s group represented something to everyone, and everything to some. He had to make sure that Kate, Linda and Samantha understood what this meant and adopted the same mindset for their trek to Limerick. A group of nine well-equipped cyclists represented an opportunity, regardless of weapons. Alex wasn’t optimistic about their chances of arriving without incident.
Kate looked her husband over one last time, making sure he showed no signs of the bloody encounter in the parking lot. She’d taken several minutes and used an entire packet of moist-wipes to thoroughly remove the thickened blood from his hands and forearms before she let him change clothes. He kept trying to rush the process, but she insisted on doing a thorough job. If he changed clothes before she was finished, he might get blood on a shirtsleeve or his collar, which could attract attention. One scarlet smear spotted by a police officer standing at a tight intersection might be all it took to stop and search the Jeep.
Hands shaking, he let her proceed. Whatever had happened at the Best Western had been sudden and violent, and Alex didn’t want to talk about it. When she crossed the intersection on her bicycle, Ed’s Jeep was gunning toward Charlie, who hadn’t reached the intersection. She assumed everything was under control at that point and focused all of her attention on the bicycles, pedaling harder and verbally encouraging the rest of her group to pick up speed.
Generating rapid momentum for their sudden departure had taken significantly more effort and time than she expected. With thirty-to forty-pound backpacks to balance while riding, her crew wasn’t exactly the most nimble on two wheels, and they needed to gain more distance to be truly out of danger. Their escape from the parking lot established a painful reality. They were slow, awkward and unable to accelerate fast enough to escape pedestrians. The bicycles would serve one purpose on their trek: ease of transportation. She couldn’t forget that.
“You’ll pass inspection,” she said.
“The Jeep won’t. We have enough shit in there to start a war. I’m worried about what’ll happen if we get stopped,” Alex said, glancing around.
She took his cue and leaned in, pretending to inspect the side of his face. They were shielded from the rest of the group by the Jeep, but with the Jeep’s windows open, there was no way to guarantee a private conversation.
“Ed nearly drove off, leaving Charlie behind. I almost had to hijack the Jeep,” he whispered.
Kate considered the implications of his comment. “I don’t know what to tell you. We’re all in this together now. You’ll just have to keep a close eye on him, and manage the situation.”
“And Charlie? I nearly beat him back to the Jeep after taking down four people,” he said.
“His heart’s in the right place, Alex,” Kate reminded him. “He could have chosen to stay behind.”
“I know. I couldn’t ask for a better friend in this. I just don’t want his heart to explode. He only ran like a hundred yards and—”
“With a full pack on his back. You know what you’re working with, so work with it. That’s all you can do.”
“You’re right,” he muttered, looking up at her.
“I’m always right,” she said, patting him lightly on his right shoulder.
Alex visibly winced, and they locked eyes for a moment. She fought the urge to comment on the injury, knowing that anything she said would be unproductive. He was going to Boston to rescue Ryan and Chloe, regardless of the circumstances. End of discussion. He needed to respect the fact that Ed and Charlie shared this same, singular focus. She took both of his hands and pulled him close, kissing him passionately while they still had a modicum of privacy. He responded, pressing her against the Jeep and kissing her neck. They both knew this could be their last moment together, and for a few seconds, they forgot about everything except each other. When Alex kissed her softly on the lips, she opened her eyes, knowing that the moment had ended.