Page 13 of Burn

While they’d grabbed me near Am’s place, maybe they’d been watching for me to visit. As hollow and fragile as that line of thinking might be, I couldn’t resist keeping my mental fingers crossed. Am might be calling the cops and the FBI right now.

If she got ahold of Eleanor, she’d pick up the torch and they’d both be burning everything down. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Am had been born a crusader. No way she’d give up on me.

Unless…

That insidious little voice crept out of the corner of my mind. Unless they’d already taken her. Unless she’d disappeared into this gaping maw of despair. The only thing I knew for certain was she wasn’t onthisbus. She hadn’t been onthattruck.

With how many had been in that warehouse… My stomach dropped. She could be anywhere.

Exhaustion and grief weighed down on me, even as I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the window. I needed to keep it together. Though I’d thought staying awake would be a battle, I had no trouble keeping my eyes open.

The last time I’d closed them, I’d found myself somewhere else entirely. I couldn’t escape if I didn’t stay on top of all the opportunities. Eventually, we followed a stretch of highway toward a city rising in the darkness. The lights of it shone like a beacon. More, there was a sunrise coming up.

We were near the coast. I could see lights on those huge, super-cranes that were found in ports. So we were definitely near the water. That was something. New York was near water.

Manhattan. Brooklyn. Queens.

The city ahead of me was none of those places. I didn’t catch a sign welcoming us to wherever. We trundled through the slowly rousing city. There were coffee shops, and diners that began to do a brisk business as foot traffic entered and left with their tall cups.

The number of people in suits suggested it was a weekday. Which one? How long since I’d drive from the Outer Banks to Am’s place? Was my car still parked there?

I hadn’t woken up with my purse or phone or anything else. Depending on when my disappearance was reported, the car might have already been towed. I didn’t have a pass for parking on the street there.

So my car could be sitting somewhere, unclaimed and unwanted, another clue in the mystery of my whereabouts. The only question I had though, was who would be looking for Am if I wasn’t there?

The more my thoughts whirled around, the more nauseated I became. All I wanted to do was find a phone, call her, and have her answer. I wanted to hear the profound relief as she heard my voice and knew I was okay too.

Then I would make arrangements to fly to her and we could wrap each other up in a hug. After I told her what happened, she’d be on fire to take down all of these monsters.

But I had to call and she had to answer.

The bus trundled into a pot-hole filled parking lot behind a clinic. The doctor rose as we slowed and he raised his hands. In careful, but still somewhat broken Spanish, he said, “This is my clinic. You will all be safe here. There are bathrooms. There are showers. We will get you clean clothes. Then we will work with you to get you home?—”

A surge in the voices behind me suggested that last part wasn’t welcome, but Doc raised his hands to quiet them.

“If you don’t want to go home or can’t, we will find a place for you. I know you have no reason to trust me, so just be patient, please. We want to help all of you.”

He made good on that word as the doors opened and the passengers filtered off. I was one of the last. I wasn’t too proud to admit that I’d waited to see if there was a trap closing on all of us.

The doctor was right there as I descended the steps. Before I could step all the way down, he held up a hand. I hesitated. Was the trap closing right here?

“Zapatos,” he said, holding up a pair of flip-flops. They were the cheap kind but they would definitely protect my already sore, bare feet.

“Gracias,” I murmured. He set the shoes down on the last step so I could step into the first one and then the other. He didn’t try to touch me or anything else. Then he backed up so I could descend the last step.

“There’s more food inside, and clothes.” It was a mixture of Spanish and English, but I still appreciated the effort. I followed his instructions and crossed the cracked and broken blacktop to the door to the clinic.

It was a rear door but it was wide open. There were more people inside and not just the other survivors. A woman—clearly a nurse—was speaking rapidly to one of the other women. She was offering to look at any wounds or issues.

Another woman offered me medication, and an exam. She also asked me if I needed a morning after pill. Well, that was something. I didn’t think I would, but I also didn’t turn it down.

She didn’t bat an eyelash, she provided the medication with more fluids. Then she offered an exam, blood work, and any other tests I might need.

Nice, but I’d wait until I got home. I went upstairs to wait for a shower to be free. There was a community center up here. It was nicer than I expected. Where the downstairs had that definite medical feel, this was a little warmer and more open.

Eventually, it was my turn. Another woman was up here and she’d brought clean clothes, including underwear. I could have kissed her. The shower was lukewarm, but I didn’t care.

I scrubbed every inch of myself, twice. There wasn’t much in the way of product for my hair, but I made do with the basicshampoo and conditioner. Afterward, I braided my hair back from my face. Then I was dressed, I sacked up my soiled clothes and carried it out with me.

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