Page 21 of Harper's Song

He’s not wrong about that.

He glances ahead where I can just about make out the back of Snake’s dark haired head amid the trees.

“Go,” he says. “I think that’s Highway 101 we’re hearing.”

If it were, that’d be a blessing beyond belief, since it would take me straight to Harper, no detours necessary. I have not been born under that kind of lucky star though, so I’m not getting my hopes up.

“I’ll cover for you for as long as I can,” he adds.

“Thanks,” I say and can’t find any other words.

“Hey, you got me out, and now we’ll be even,” he says. “Just don’t get caught.”

I nod, shake his hand, then walk off in the direction of the sound of cars. I break into a run as soon as I think I’m far enough from the others and the extra noise I’m making won’t be overheard. Low-hanging branches pelt at me from head to toe, the needles feeling like tiny razor blades against my face and I’m having the hardest time getting Gene’s big dark eyes out of my head. He thinks I freed him, but I might have just left him to his death.

With any luck, the Sheriff’s department already has packs of dogs trailing us through these woods though, which is another reason why I need to find the highway as fast as I can. I just hope Gene will be smart enough to give himself up and tell the story I suggested to him.

As for me, I’ll die before I get caught.

I have to reach Harper. I have to warn her and the Devils that she’s not safe. That none of them are.

She might very well tell me to take a hike once I reach her. And I wouldn’t blame her. But this time, I’m not letting her go without a fight.

Jax

Luck was with me today. In a way that it never has been before, not ever in my life. Except on the day when I finally plucked up the courage to kiss Harper and she kissed me back. If this luck holds, I’ll get to do that again before this day is over.

I once travelled the length of an entire state on foot with just the clothes on my back, much like now, to get back to her. This will be a cakewalk compared to that.

The highway we were hearing was in fact US 101 and I came out of the woods only a couple of yards from the chain link fence separating a gas station and truck stop from the woods we’d been walking through. And once I realized I was on the side that’s heading north, I scrapped the original plan of waiting for nightfall.

My gray prisoner’s uniform only looks as such to the trained eye, I told myself. Especially after I ditched the button down shirt on my way here and turned the pants with the name of the prison I just escaped from stamped onto the seam inside out. I did the same with my white t-shirt, which helped to hide the blood that had soaked into it from the split on my brow.

And the rest of my plan went out the window as I overheard a trucker telling someone on the phone that he’s pushing through to Seattle this afternoon and will be there by nightfall, for sure.

I followed him to his truck, trying not to be seen. It turned out to be a big rig with a huge, hot tub, or Jacuzzi, or some such loaded onto the flatbed. I debated the safety of trying to hide in there for about half a second, before leaping onto the flatbed and making just enough room under the dark green tarp covering it to slip in.

The longer you can keep them from knowing you’re coming, the better.

That’s one of the wisdoms I learned from the Devils. Of course that’s referring to the men they ride out to kill. In my situation, I figured it translated into leaving the site of our escape as quickly and invisibly as I can. Like hiding in a tarp covered Jacuzzi on the back of a truck heading exactly where I need to be, and where no one expects me to go. Stealing money and cars would not have.

I didn’t count on nearly suffocating in the heat and airlessness of my hiding spot, but a few well-placed holes created using the shank in my shoe solved that issue. And destroyed the shank, but I don’t need it anymore now.

The wind beating against the tarp, the whooshing of the road beneath the tires and the gentle rocking motion of the flatbed eventually put me to sleep. Or maybe I just passed out from the thirst, hunger and the heat.

It was much cooler when arguing voices woke me. I jerked up, realizing that the truck was stopped and the little squares of the sky I could see through the holes I made in the tarp were dark gray, almost black.

“I am not accepting this thing, much less paying for it,” a guy was saying angrily, his voice muffled by the tarp, yet clear enough to let me know he’s standing nearby. “My ex-wife sent me this hot tub as a way to get revenge for cheating on her in it, but she got enough revenge in the divorce settlement. She’s crazy and I’m not putting up with it anymore. Take it back.”

The driver responded with an argument that he’s just the delivery guy and deserves to get compensated, which led to the other guy to start talking more shit about his ex-wife. I stopped listening and just concentrated on getting out from under the tarp as quietly as possible.

The argument between the two men soon turned to yelling, and by the time I reached the safety of a copse of pine trees on the other side of the road from the house in front of which the truck had parked, they were giving off every sign of being within moments of starting to throw punches.

I decided against breaking into the guy’s house to get some clothes, money and the keys to that tan colored Lexus standing in the driveway behind his back, and instead opted for laying low and off law enforcement radar for a little longer.

A decision I wholeheartedly regretted when my trek through the copse turned into a repeat of this morning’s hike except that this time I was surrounded by pines and not redwoods.

I could smell the ocean and soon couldn’t see a damn thing anymore as night descended. But the smell of the ocean kept getting stronger, so I kept walking.

---