A Time of Shadows (Out of Time #8) (18 page)

“Thank God.”

Elizabeth cautiously peered out of the window, but the other car was gone. She’d ask Simon what happened later, but for now, all she wanted was to get the hell out of there.

Simon drove a few more miles into town and finally pulled off the road and into the parking lot of a large strip mall. Elizabeth could hear the car struggling now, the front tire was low and something was rubbing on something else.
 

Simon parked in an out of the way spot in the far corner of the lot. He put the car in park and turned around, his face still pale. He didn’t ask again, but she nodded, telling him that they were really okay.

He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel for a moment before opening his door. Or trying to. He grunted loudly as he pushed his shoulder into it, finally forcing it open.

Elizabeth wiped the tear stains from Charlotte’s face with shaking hands.

“We’re all right,” she reassured her.

Charlotte had stopped crying a few minutes ago, but she was clearly as shaken as Elizabeth felt.

Simon couldn’t open the rear left-side passenger door at all and moved around to the other side. Elizabeth made sure it was unlocked and pushed as he pulled. It took a few tugs, but finally, it creaked open.

Simon knelt down, reached into the car and pulled them both into a hug.
 

“Thank you, God,” he whispered.

Elizabeth wasn’t sure if there was a God, but if there was one, she owed him. Big Time.

Simon pulled away and touched Charlotte’s face.
 

“You’re hurt,” Charlotte said, pointing to Simon’s arm.
 

Elizabeth leaned forward. Blood stained the upper sleeve of his blue shirt.

He looked down at in surprise and shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“You’ve been shot,” Elizabeth said, instantly regretting it.

Charlotte’s hand shot out and grabbed Simon’s shirt. He covered her hand with his own and assured her he was fine.
 

“I’m all right.”

He looked down at his arm again. “I think it’s just a cut from some of the glass. I’m fine.”

Charlotte’s chin quivered, but she reined in her emotions and nodded. Still her eyes lingered on his arm.

Elizabeth took a closer look, steeling herself for the telltale hole of a bullet wound, but he was actually telling the truth. It was cut, but not badly.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Simon said, reaching for Charlotte’s seat belt.

He unclipped it and helped her from the car and into his arms.

“You were very brave, my girl,” he said.

Elizabeth edged out next to them.

Charlotte leaned back and held out her hand. In it was the silver canister.

“I never let go.”

Simon laughed, one that was a little too loud with relief, and pulled her into another hug. Elizabeth stood on shaky legs and took her turn at a hug when Simon released their daughter.

Simon closed the car door and the three of them stared at the wreck it had become. Half the paint was gone. The stripping, what was left of it, bent and curved back. The fender crumpled in on itself, and the right front tire was quickly going flat.

“You sprang for the insurance, right?” Elizabeth asked, enduring the roll of his eyes. Anything to ease the fear and tension that still gripped them. She exhaled some nerves.

“Well,” she said. “That was a little too exciting, wasn’t it?”

Simon grunted.
 

Elizabeth looked around and saw that there was a pharmacy listed on the mall signage. “Let me get something for your arm.”

“It’s fine,” Simon said.

“Until it falls off.”

He looked at her flatly, but finally nodded.
 

“And I’ll see about getting another car. I think this one’s had it.”

Simon frowned. “Don’t take long. I saw them crash, but…”

Elizabeth nodded, knowing what was left unsaid. If those men were alive, they’d be after them again.

She looked down at Charlotte, clinging to Simon’s side. And now those men weren’t just following them; they were trying to kill them.
 

~~~

Elizabeth bought bandages and antiseptic, a new shirt for Simon that he was sure to hate, and got directions to a nearby car rental agency. After a little quick doctoring to Simon’s arm, they walked to the rental agency.

A brief argument later, and Elizabeth was behind the wheel. They’d barely crossed the river before Simon told her to pull over.

“I’m perfectly capable of driving—”

“Over there,” he said, pointing to a building next to the McDonald’s. The sign read Concordia Pawn & Gun.

She opened her mouth to argue, but his expression made it clear that this was not a subject up for debate. And, if she were honest, as much as she hated guns, after what they’d been through, having one was probably smart.

She pulled into the small parking lot. “Won’t you need a permit or something?”
 

He looked at her blankly. “This is Mississippi,” he said.

“Louisiana,” she corrected him.

“I don’t think it makes much difference.”
 

Elizabeth hoped he was right. She wasn’t up on her gun laws, but both seemed like the places where a man could buy a gun without much trouble if he wanted.
 

Simon opened the car door, but didn’t step out. “Wait here.”

“We’re gonna walk over and get some food,” Elizabeth said, nodding toward the McDonald’s.

Now it was Simon’s turn to swallow his argument. He loathed, not just hated, but actively loathed fast food. But he didn’t fight it, and nodded curtly. “Just be careful. And don’t linger.”

“Don’t worry,” she said.

He laughed and then smiled. He cast one last look at Charlotte in the back seat. “Keep an eye on her,” he said jerking his head toward Elizabeth.

Charlotte smiled and nodded.

Two happy meals and one rifle later, they were back on the road. They got a motel room just outside of Shreveport and hunkered down for the night. They couldn’t afford to keep on as they were. They needed a plan and needed one now.

Charlotte needed surprisingly little coaxing to go to sleep, although the light was back to “on.”
 

Elizabeth watched her for a moment as her eyes drifted shut and her grip on the blanket grew lax. Then Elizabeth eased the door to the bedroom closed.

Simon sat down heavily on the sofa, the rifle across his lap. Elizabeth eyed the handgun he’d also bought, sitting on the end table.
 

“I know it’s not loaded, but I don’t like having that here with Charlotte around.”

Simon looked over at it and nodded. “I agree.”

“Then we can get rid of it?”

He looked at her sadly and shook his head. “No.”

“But you—” Elizabeth didn’t finish her sentence; she could see the answer written on Simon’s face, written in anguish. Her heart dropped.

“You want to send her away.”

He looked up and took in a deep breath. When he looked at her, his eyes were moist. “I can assure you, that is not what I
want,
” he said, his voice rough. “But it is what we should do.”

Elizabeth sat down next to him. He moved the rifle, putting it on the coffee table.
 

She took his hand.
 

After a long moment of silence Simon spoke. “I don’t know how they keep finding us, but they do.”

Elizabeth had wondered how they’d managed that. Simon had been careful, using assumed names and cash, never credit cards. They’d left no paper trail at all. Simon had told her what Travers had said about their files, but it still didn’t explain how the men knew exactly where they’d be.
 

“I thought at first they would just follow us,” Simon continued. “Be content to let us lead them to the clues. But after the subway and today….” He shook his head.

“Why would they want to kill us?” Elizabeth said and then lowered her voice in case Charlotte wasn’t as asleep as she seemed. “It doesn’t make any sense. They can’t find the watch without us.”

“They probably could, eventually,” he said and then shifted to face her. “It might take time, but with us out of the way.…”

Elizabeth hated to agree with that, but they were expendable.
 

Simon looked over at the bedroom door. “I don’t see any reason to think they’re going give up. If those men are dead, more will take their place. The stakes are too high.”

He was right; this wasn’t just any watch. This watch could change—everything. In spite of that, in spite of the fate of the world being at risk, Elizabeth wanted to run. She wanted to take her family and run until no one could find them. For the first time, she understood how Simon must have felt all those times before.

But she knew they couldn’t run. If the Shadow Council got their hands on the thirteenth watch, she was fairly certain she and Simon would not fare well in their revision to history. They could not run from what they had to do. And they could not go on as they were.

“Maybe we can get Jack to come back?” Elizabeth said. He was the only person she would trust with Charlotte’s life.

Simon shook his head. “His mission is as crucial as ours.”

She knew that if she asked Jack he’d drop everything, no matter what it was, and come back to help them. But Simon was right. Again.

“Well then that doesn’t leave us with any options,” Elizabeth said. She was not going to leave Charlotte with Travers or anywhere near the Council.

“There is one,” Simon said.

~~~

Victor did not like the South. It was hot and damp and dangerous. And yet here he was, driving into the very heart of it. It had been years since he’d been here last and that was something better forgotten. If only he could. If only he could wipe away the misery of the last five years. But life was cruel, and the things he wished away closed in on him like the thick, heavy air of this God-forsaken summer night.

He’d gotten the phone call less than twelve hours ago. He should have just let it ring. Like a fool, he’d answered it, hoping Travers had come to his senses and turned the watches back on so he could finish what he’d started. God only knew what horrors Graham was committing while they did nothing.

Instead of something helpful, Travers told him that Cross, of all people, was on the line and needed his help. He should have hung up then. He’d made sure only Travers had his phone number for good reason. He didn’t like to be bothered. And now he was very bothered.

He grunted and shifted in his seat. Not that he’d been exactly busy. He’d been doing nothing but waiting. He tried to believe that was why he’d said yes to Cross. That he simply had to be doing something, even if he did not know exactly what it was. But the real reason ran much deeper. And like a splinter in his flesh, it slowly was working its way up to the surface.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself.

The long highway stretched out in front of him. The light from his headlights reached out into the black, but whatever lay ahead was swallowed by the dark. The pitch dark of a country road at night was a soulless abyss. The sort of place where the shadows on a man’s soul could hide, even from himself.

The sign announcing that Shreveport was one hundred miles away passed by and disappeared behind him. He was a fool for agreeing to this, he knew, but there was no turning back now and he drove on and into the darkness.

“G
IN
.”

W
ITH
A
BROAD
grin, Charlotte laid her cards on the table.

Elizabeth sighed and tossed what was left of her hand onto the table. “Again?”

Charlotte raked in the discarded cards. “Learned from the best.”

Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at her.

Charlotte giggled and straightened the deck of cards.
 

Simon watched them from the other side of the room, glad again that Elizabeth insisted that a deck of cards was one of life’s necessities. Charlotte had been quiet all morning until Elizabeth pulled the cards from the bag of supplies she’d purchased yesterday afternoon. The prospect of a few games of Gin were apparently just the medicine she needed.

Charlotte dealt out the next hand. “We can play Crazy Eights later. You always beat me at that.”

Elizabeth agreed, but then looked over at him with sadness and maybe even a little accusation in her eyes. There would be no later. Elizabeth had wanted to tell her, but Simon had been against it. He didn’t want her worrying, wondering what might come. There was no point in it, and as he watched them play and laugh, he knew he’d made the right choice. There would be enough time for worrying later. For all of them.

Simon pushed himself up off the sofa. “Are you sure she’s not cheating?” he asked Elizabeth.

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open in shock at his narrowed eyes.
 

“I’m joking,” he said, placing a placating hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him and narrowed her own eyes back. It was so strange to see a mirror of himself in a child.

Then she smiled and rearranged the cards in her hand. “A Cross never cheats.”

“Just so,” he said, winning a smile from her.

He was going to miss that smile more than he dared admit. Clearing his throat, he leaned over her shoulder.

“You should probably give in now,” he said to Elizabeth.

Her retort was interrupted by a knock on the door. Simon’s heart skipped a beat and he motioned for Charlotte and Elizabeth to go into the bedroom. He grabbed the rifle and moved quietly back to the door. Heart racing, he peered carefully thorough the peephole, and then let out a relieved sigh.

“It’s all right,” he said, opening the door.

Victor Renaud stood to the side, scowling and unshaven as always. He glared at the gun in Simon’s hand, pushed it away with disdain and entered uninvited. “Unless you were planning on hitting me over the head with that, it won’t do you much good uncocked.”

His eyes darted over to the pistol still sitting on the end table. “The handgun would have been a wiser choice.”