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Ice skates over my arms, climbing until every hair on the back of my neck is raised. “Well, perhaps if you weren’t so nice to me on the elevator before,” I joke.
“Perhaps,” he agrees, but his voice is distant.
We drive for half an hour; the streets becoming less populated with every mile. Soon, tall buildings gradually become more distant in the rearview, until all that is left are faint glimmers of light in the distance.
When I first arrived in the bustling metropolis, the sight was something to behold. After a while, though, the noise and constant buzz of fluorescence became a nuisance. No one ever talks about the downside of coming to the city from a rural town, one of them being that you can never see the stars.
I thought I’d feel sad watching the last two years of my life shrink away. I don’t. Not really.
“Is your phone prepaid?” Samuel asks, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence.
I purse my lips. Kind of rude to assume I can’t afford the fancy cellular contracts, but he’d seen my clunky government issued phone, and I’m sure it hadn’t taken him long to realize its service status. “Yes. Why?”
He glances at me, one brow raised. “Can I borrow it?”
“For what purpose?” I ask, but I’m already reaching between my legs, digging into the pocket of my bookbag.
He glances at me, flashing a brilliant smile in my direction.Suck up.“Here.” I hand him the phone, a little nervous that he’ll be driving while using it.
If he crashes the car while surfing the web, it’s likely thathisimmortal body will be fine. Mine, however, will not.
But he handles multitasking well, his eyes never leaving the road as he pulls one of his gloves off with his teeth, presses the button to activate the screen, and then dials a phone number.
The volume is on its highest setting, so when he presses the phone to his ear, I can hear it ringing.
“Hello?” a man answers.
“It’s me.” Samuel says.
Instantly a string of curses sound on the other side of the line. I catch the tail end of his mysterious friend’s reply. “-Supposed to call me hours ago. Is this line secure?”
Samuel sighs. “Not really. I wasn’t able to withdraw enough cash, so I’m making do with what I have. I wanted to let you know that we’re ending our journey soon, and I’ll be using the last of my resources on a place to stay. We need to get together sooner rather than later.
“Tonight?”
“No. We only have a little time left until dawn breaks, and you wouldn’t make it. Tomorrow, we’ll rendezvous at a mall in the North-Eastern end of West Virginia. Can you do a Google search and find one before I end the call? I won’t be able to contact you after this.”
I lean closer to Samuel, whispering. “Why won’t you be able to contact him after this?”
He glances at me, rolling his eyes. The man on the other side of the line chuckles. “Is that her? Damn, man, she sounds real cute. Got that Southern Bell accent.”
Samuel makes a rumbling sound deep in his chest. “Can you give me an address or not?”
I inch away, folding my arms across my chest. I feel more and more cut off the longer the discussion continues. WhatisSamuel’s goal here? Shouldn’t I at least be informed about my fate? Or is this just how it’ll be now? Me as the doe-eyed sheep, and Samuel as my cute, intelligent,deadlyshepherd.
“Twenty-Three Ninety-Nine Meadowbrook Road in Bridgeport. Got it? We’ll bring the cash. We won’t be able to do much in the near future, so we should pick up some supplies for our friend. Oh, and Francis is dying to meet her.” The man chuckles again, his voice fading out.
Samuel’s face turns sour. “See you tomorrow,” he grumbles, his eyes narrowed.
And then he pulls my phone away from his ear andcrushesit. He makes a fist over the cheap plastic and glass, crumbling the material until it falls away from his fingers like soot.
“What the hell!” My eyes go wide, chest contracting with emotion. It may not have been much, but that clunk of technology has been my lifeline for the last two years. And now it’s a pile of dust spread over the faux leather console.
Samuel shrugs one of his shoulders. “If someone gets your number, they’ll try to track your phone. It’s a liability.”
My breathing accelerates, verging on hyperventilation. “What about my contacts? You could have warned me first!” I cringe inwardly, aware of how shrill my voice sounds and yet not really giving a fuck. Samuel’s vibe is getting a bit too pushy.
He dusts his ungloved hand free of debris on his chest before placing it back on the steering wheel. “Okay, very true. I’m sorry. I should have warned you first.” He sends me an observatory look. “But you’d have protested, and then you’d have gotten pissed when I destroyed it, anyway.”
