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“Ewwww – Sid,” I reprimanded him.
“It’s a joke,” Sid said, then grinned. “Sort of.”
80
We tried to get some sleep – or at least three of us did. Sid sat in a chair by the doorway and kept an ear out just in case Lou or the police had somehow been able to follow us.
Kade crashed out on the couch, and Jack and I lay on the bed.
My brain was going a thousand miles an hour. In my mind’s eye, I kept returning to the desert. Over and over, I shot at Eyeball’s muzzle flash in the darkness, then listened to his death rattle.
My guilt was overwhelming, no matter how much he deserved it. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see the muzzle flash, then hear that terrible gurgling sound as he breathed his last.
I guess my tossing and turning finally got to Jack, because he snuggled up right up next to me and spooned me from behind. He reached his arm across my body and clamped it down tight – but it felt comforting rather than constricting. Like I was safe.
“It’s okay,” he whispered in my ear. “Shhh.”
I finally relaxed.
I don’t remember how long we lay like that, but I finally fell asleep.
81
After a fitful night of sleep, Kade, Jack, and I grabbed showers (separately, of course). Getting back into my sweaty, dusty, smoky clothes was nasty, but at least my face and hair were clean.
While we were showering, Sid went out to grab some McDonald’s. As soon as he got back, we wolfed down the food and coffee.
While we waited for Sloane’s call, we planned our raid on the meth lab. Sid sketched out the property and barn on a piece of paper, then handed out earpieces that would allow us to communicate with him.
“You think there’s anybody keeping guard?” Jack asked.
“Didn’t see anybody,” Sid said. “Lou and those other three punks rode up, and the college kid came out to meet ‘em. Then the four of ‘em left and the kid went back in the barn. I hung around another four hours, but I never saw nobody else. But I’d still go in expecting some shit if I was you.”
“If you’re going to be our ace in the hole, we need a way to get there separately.”
“How about the pickup I boosted last night?” Kade asked.
“If the cops ain’t already towed it, that’ll be fine,” Sid agreed.
Kade’s phone rang.
“She’s early,” Jack remarked.
Kade looked at the screen and frowned. “It’s not Sloane.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a Richards area code.”
“Don’t answer it,” Sid said. “Let it go to voicemail.”
“What’s the number?” I asked. “I can check it on the internet.”
Kade read it off, and I plugged it into Google.
My stomach dropped when I read ‘Richards Police Department.’
“Shit,” Sid said. “I should get my head examined – all of you take out your batteries, NOW, before they trace you.”
