Page 63 of Be Courageous

And the debt was a heavy one. Heavy and lonely.

But God still loved her. She reminded herself of Jeremiah 29:11 every day.“ForI know the plans I have for you…plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”It was just a matter of time before McKenzie could live her life again without this constant fear of being found.

CHAPTER1

It was something McKenzie could not get used to—sitting at a public bus stop in a tourist town without feeling like she might be recognized. Listening to Jamila talk nonstop about the trials of raising teenage boys, McKenzie leaned back against the wooden bench and forced herself to relax.

No one here knows who I am. She repeated that mantra to herself each and every day.

On this mild afternoon in the middle of the week, tourists streamed out of hotels to enjoy the late-September sunshine. Teenagers, just out of school for the day, cruised the strip in their souped-up cars, windows lowered, music blasting. A bright sun kept the cooler air at a perfect temperature. McKenzie tipped her head back, drew a deep breath of salt-laced air, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was looking straight into the eye of a high-powered telephoto lens, aimed down at her from a hotel balcony across the street.

She jerked upright, then peered around hoping to identify something close to her that explained the need for a photo. But there was just a parking lot on one side, a street on the other. Suspicion skewered her as she looked back at the camera. Its owner swiveled, disappearing back into his room.

McKenzie’s scalp tingled.

Why would he have taken pictures of the bus stop? To capture the lifestyle of the working class in Myrtle Beach? Or to positively identify her?

“Caroline? Hey, there!” Jamila’s face swam into view. “You’re looking all peaked, girl. You best not be gettin’ that flu. You know your friend Nadia won’t cover your shift like you cover hers.”

“I know. No, I’m not sick. I’m just…”Scared. And probably paranoid.

But this was how it always started. Men she’d never seen before started taking an interest in her, following her around. It had happened twice before. In Omaha, a young man had been filming her at work, and WITSEC had swept her away the very next day. In Portland, she’d been chased down a dark alley on her way home from work. That same night, WITSEC had moved her clear across the country. McKenzie’s stomach cramped.Not again.“Actually, maybe I am sick.”

“Don’t breathe on me, honey, ’cause I can’t afford to be ill.” Jamila slid farther down the bench, putting space between them.

Tears pressured McKenzie’s eyes. Jamila had been her first and only friend in Myrtle Beach. She’d taken McKenzie under her wing, made her feel welcome.I don’t want to start over, Lord. Please, this has to stop.

A bus rolled up with a screech and a cloud of noxious fumes. McKenzie made a quick decision. Standing abruptly, she met her friend’s startled gaze with regret. “Jamila, I might not be here tomorrow. Thank you for your friendship.”

Jamila gawked at her. “That’s not your bus, girl! Where’re you goin’?”

If she moved fast enough, maybe she wouldn’t be followed. With a grimace and a wave, McKenzie bounded onto the near-empty bus, took a seat by the door, and peered back up at the balcony. Her pulse skipped to see the man standing there again, this time with a cell phone plastered to his ear and his eyes fixed on the bus she’d just boarded.

She dug in her purse for her own cell phone and dialed her case handler.

“Higgins,” he answered after three rings.

“Some man just took my picture while I was sitting at the bus stop.” McKenzie pitched her voice low, though the nearest person to her sat several rows away.

“You think he recognized you?” Higgins didn’t sound too worried.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you being followed?”

Now he sounded like she had no right to worry, even though she’d been relocated twice already.

McKenzie turned in her seat, peering down the length of the bus and out the back window. Any one of the cars dogging the bus might be following her. “I don’t know.”

Her handler grunted. “Look, just go home and set your alarm. If it goes off, enter your safe room immediately and call me from there.”

WITSEC had installed a tiny room at the back of her closet. Reinforced with steel and padded with Kevlar, it was supposedly unbreachable. While the safe room assured protection from immediate danger, it failed to banish the suspicion that the Centurions had found her yet again, and that wasn’t supposed to happen. The trade-off for giving up her old life was the guarantee of not having to live in constant fear, so why was she still afraid?

“Okay.” Putting an end to the call, McKenzie looked outside to get her bearings. Her stomach churned with uncertainty.

At the main terminal, she would have to switch busses to get on the bus that went to her neighborhood. Apparently, it was up to her to lose whoever might be tailing her.

* * *

---