Page 16 of Snow Good to Lose
I climbed into the driver’s side and placed my piece in the driver’s door pocket. I needed it accessible.
“Check the glove box?” I pulled the key out of my wallet.
Amari opened the glove box and pulled out her 9 mm and two full magazines.
She sat it on the bench seat between us.
“What’s in here?” Amari held up a large yellow envelope.
“Open it.”
She emptied the contents and picked up each item one by one: four stacks of cash in different currencies, two passports, and a few credit cards in our new names.
Amari thumbed through the stack of Columbian money. Satisfied, she put the stuff back into the envelope except for the passports. She opened the Canadian passport.
“Liam.” Amari giggled and opened her passport. “And, Lana from Seychelles.” It was a French-speaking African country and contained an offshore account in her name.
“Why Lana?”
“What?” I maneuvered down the circular parking garage exit. “It’s a pretty name.”
She rolled her eyes and put everything back into the glovebox. Everything except her gun. She held it in her lap. She didn’t like guns, but she was a talented shot. Better than some military-trained guys I knew. She used to be afraid of them. Not anymore.
As we pulled around to the exit of the parking garage, I paused and scanned the grounds. The front lobby entrance was empty. The golf course clubhouse was dark. All was quiet. We couldn’t have planned it better.
My chest tightened as we passed through the exit gate. Maybe we could come back someday. I thought it, but I didn’t say it out loud. We were dealing in realities. False hope also made you complacent. We had a singular mission, survival.
At the main road, I turned right and drove past our beach. I couldn’t avoid it. It was the only way out of town.
She stared at theno trespassingsign and bit her lip.I grabbed her hand, but she pulled it away and crossed her arms over her chest.
She was at her limit. I allowed her to fume. She wasn’t naïve about our situation. She put extraordinary effort into creating a normal life for us. I hate to think she regretted it. I didn’t need normal. I needed her.
I avoided reassuring her or comforting her. We both needed to stay vigilant and on edge. It made her alert and present. We wouldn’t be running forever. One day we were going to have the life we talked about. The life where normal wasn’t an effort.
The life she deserved.
