Bane (16 page)

THE TRAIN STOPPED in Denver, Colorado. A whistle sounded letting the passengers know it was okay to disembark. After being cooped-up for two days, I was done with trains. We hadn’t left the confines of our room the entire time. The nearly nonstop sex had been a distraction, but Bane was restless like a caged beast. In the two days we’d traveled, no new information had been discovered due to the limitations of Bane being able to connect securely. Technology was not my thing.

“Remember, keep your head down,” Bane instructed me as I put the cap down on my head.

I wore the sweatshirt and ball cap I’d worn to board the train. “Yes. I’ll stay close.”

For the last hour, Bane drilled in what I was supposed to do almost sergeant like. He’d been colder and barely touched me since we’d woken up entangled together. With my backpack secured on my shoulders, Bane came behind me with the two other bags.

Slipping his aviator glasses in place, Bane told me, “Stay close.”

“I will.” I followed Bane off the platform. The fresh air invigorated me. Though the air was chilly, I stopped myself from leaning my face back into the sun to absorb it. How I missed feeling the direct light against my cheeks.

The station was busy. There was a large group of adults following a group sign for skiing. Bane absorbed us into their group. Keeping my head down, the group animatedly talked around us about the slopes and their plans once they got to the resort. I envied their situation. The tourists were here for pleasure while I was here to stay away from some covert people that wanted to capture us.

All of the sudden, I felt exposed and leaned farther into Bane. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, concerned.

“Yes. I’m fine. I want to get out of here.”

Winding our way through the terminal, Bane flagged a taxi.

As we got in, the driver asked, “Where to?”

“Twenty-third and fifth.” Bane gave the directions without hesitation. Yesterday, I saw him poring over Denver maps while marking locations.

The cab driver sped off. “Yes, sir.”

This cab was cleaner than the last one and smelled of cheap air fresheners. I stayed silent as we made our way through the city. Snow-covered mountains created the perfect scenic backdrop as we wound our way through the city. I’d never been to Denver before. Honestly, I’d never left the state of Georgia except for once when we went on a family vacation to Pensacola, Florida.

Looking at the far-off mountain range, I wondered which mountain we were headed to. I knew we were headed to a cabin in the woods. Another safe house. Hopefully this one proved safer than the last. To have this many escapes options meant one thing … Bane had more enemies than I could comprehend.

The cab stopped and Bane paid the thirty-six dollars in cab fare. Disembarking, Bane headed down the street. “We’re catching another cab.”

“Okay.” This felt like a game of cat and mouse. With his authoritative tone, I didn’t ask any questions. I wasn’t in the mood to poke the bear.

Hopping in another cab, Bane gave another street intersection. We did this five more times. I felt like I’d gone in circles. Bane was distant as he scanned the streets. He needed more time than the average person to reflect. Since this morning, he’d slipped away and distanced himself from me. There were demons he battled. What Demons? I wasn’t sure, but if I could help I wanted to. It was the least I could do.

The cab pulled to the curb of a restaurant. I was hungry, but doubted we’d be dining here. Bane grabbed our bags. “This way.”

I nodded. Exhaustion from the stress and day’s events seemed to seep into me. “Are we close?”

“We’re getting the car. If they happen to find we came to Denver, using different cab lines and multiple stops will make it nearly impossible to trace us.”

A chain-link fence started on the edge of a property that housed climate-controlled storage units. Bane punched a code and we entered the gravel lot. The area was quiet overall which was expected for a Wednesday afternoon. In the middle of the section we came to a door. Bane punched another code, raising the door. Another black shiny SUV sat. With the hood propped up, cables attached to the battery.

“Hop in. Let me unhook the trickle charge. Keeps the battery from going dead. I’m going to place an order for groceries while I finish packing the car.”

I did as he asked, buckling myself. A sense of dread came over me. The last two times I’d gotten in a vehicle similar to this we’d ended up in car chases and a building on fire. On the wall there were shelves with more black bags. Bane grabbed three and put them in the back. Bane talked to the grocer as he walked around the room, grabbing a few things and depositing them in the car.

Getting in the vehicle, the call ended. “Thank you. I’ll be by in twenty minutes to pick everything up. Yes. Thanks.”

Cranking the car, we left the area. “I ordered us groceries. I figured you might like some fresh food over the MRE’s I have at the cabin.”

Meals Ready to Eat.
I’d heard of those and they did not sound appetizing. “I’ll cook us something when we get there.”

“Sounds good.” Bane focused on the road giving no indication to his mood. When he called me
angel
or promised to protect me, there was a softness about him. A softness I wanted more of, but disappeared today. With our situation, I should avoid those thoughts. We were escaping with each other. Nothing more.

Nearing the outskirts of town, Bane pulled into a small grocery store parking lot. He dialed someone. “I’m here. Black SUV. How much? Thank you.”

A few minutes later, a pudgy man wheeled out a cart filled to the brim with white sacks of food. Popping out of the vehicle, Bane transferred the food to the back. There was some small chit-chat. Nothing I could make out. Paying the man, Bane talked to him for a couple of minutes more before getting back into the car and driving off.

Bane mentioned, “Looks like there’s a blizzard coming tonight. They’re expecting eight to ten inches.”

“That’s more snow than I’ve ever seen.” The normal pep in my voice was gone as we continued to talk about trivial things. In Georgia, it was rare to get snow. When we did, the city shutdown not having the proper equipment.

The road turned from four lanes to two and became curvy as we ascended into the mountain areas. Snow-covered trees encapsulated the road, almost creating a fairytale picture.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“It is. I think you’ll like where we’re going even under the circumstances. It’s peaceful.”

Turning right on a nearly imperceptible road, the brush dragged along the side of the car. I cringed knowing little scratches were happening to the pristine coat of paint. Cars seemed disposable to Bane.

As dusk set, Bane made another turn. Five minutes later, a small cabin sat nestled on a ridge. To the left was a shed Bane pulled into. Spider webs and dust covered the shelves. This would take a bit to clean out.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve been here.” It wasn’t a question, but a fact from all the dirt.

“Nearly four years since I bought it and set it up.”

Four years. I guess a safe house wouldn’t be on your list of frequent visits or vacations. “Do you think it’s still livable inside?”

He nodded as he looked out into the area. “This place is monitored through a secured network I own. Everything looked operable the last time I logged in. If not, I have the tools to fix it.”

Grabbing my stuff, I got out of the vehicle and waited for Bane. Two snowmobiles sat to the right. After not being here for four years, how long would it take to get everything running? He grabbed a few of the duffels. “I’ll get the rest once we get settled and the generator going. There’s barrels of pure gasoline in the back of the shed that will keep the place going for months.”

“Months? What about my jobs? I need to tell someone.” We could be here for months? I wasn’t sure how I felt about a lengthened trip in nowhere land. Especially with a withdrawn Bane. Would they worry about me? I wasn’t sure. The turnover for the types of jobs I did were high. Sometimes people simply quit showing up.

“Angel, I don’t think it’ll take months. I have enough supplies here to survive. You can’t call your jobs. I’m sorry, but you can’t. We can’t take the risk.” There was the nickname again that came out of nowhere with a semi-softened tone. I chose to ignore it with everything else I tried to process. Since leaving the train, the reality of the situation continued to sink in. I’d been in a bubble on the train and now it was popped.

Bane was right, there was nothing I could do about the jobs.

Through the snow, I followed Bane. Only a few inches were on the ground. After tonight I would probably feel snowed-in with how much was expected to fall. As I looked closer, the wood cabin had a steel door and shutters. This was more than a cabin. Bane used a key and unlocked the deadbolt. Sheets covered the furniture and more dust showered every surface. There was less dust than in the shed, probably from everything being sealed better. Bane sat our things down. “Let me get a fire started to warm the place. Then, I’ll get the generator going. We’ll have power, water, and appliances then.”

“Sounds good.” Bane watched me for a second like he wanted to say more. Instead, he turned and busied himself.

The cabin was one large room. Wandering through the place, I realized this was going to be my residence indefinitely. After a little tender loving care, I believed this place could feel … homey. The kitchen sat at the far back with a dining area to the right. A desk with more technical equipment was to the far left. And the rest was open living space.

Bane went back outside without saying a word. In the middle of the far left wall, next to the fire place, was a door. I opened it and peered in. More sheets covered the furniture. A large bed sat against the wall in between two steel-plated covered windows. Along the left wall a dresser sat between two doors. I probably should ask for permission to look, but I didn’t.

The left door housed a laundry room. A small washer and dryer along with a large dead-bolted cabinet sat undisturbed. As I came back out, I noticed my trail of footprints in the dust on the floor. Cleaning was a priority. To the right of the dresser was a medium-sized bathroom. The tub was rust-free unlike my previous place. I hoped one night I’d be able to soak. It had been a while since I’d relaxed in a bath since in my apartment I’d worn flip flops to the shower not wanting to touch the tub.

Coming back in the main room, Bane nearly had a fire going. “I like your place.”

“It’ll do.” He stood. “Before I lose all daylight, I need to get the generator going.”

“No problem. I’ll make myself at home.” On the way to the front door Bane stiffened and froze for half-a-second. I wasn’t sure what I’d said, but I wasn’t going to push. Without responding, he left. And all the softness from the shed was gone. Distant Bane was back.

I wasn’t sure what to make of his actions. As I surveyed the room, I knew how to keep myself busy. Bane Bradley needed time to process some things on his mind. And I needed to make sure my boundaries were reinforced.

“DAMN IT ALL to hell!”