“Hell, yes. There’s a Greyhound bus ticket out there somewhere with my name on it.”
She quirked a funny smile, but it vanished quickly. “Ready? Okay. Shit. Here we go.”
“We?”
“We have to get past Jules at the front desk and then I’m going to smuggle you out in my car. Tell the outpost security I need to run home for my phone or something.”
“No way,” I said. “That, plus the missing meds? You’ll be busted for sure.”
“How do you plan to get past them?”
“I’ll figure it out,” I said. I gave her a peck on the cheek and a hug. “Love you. I can’t thank you enough.”
Rita hugged me tight. “Be careful. Please. If you start to feel fuzzy or disoriented in any way, you call me. Or get to an ER. Promise?”
“Promise.”
We crept down the silent hallway together, every creak of the floorboards like a siren. We stopped in the stairwell on the first floor.
“Jules will go on her first smoke break any minute now,” Rita whispered. “She usually goes out the side door that leads to the parking lot.”
I made a face. “I’m well aware.”
“That means you’ll have to walk out the front door.”
That’s exactly how I should leave here. Waltzing right out the front door.
I huffed a breath. “Okay, here goes.”
Rita gave me a final squeeze. “Good luck.”
Her footsteps faded away up the stairwell, then I was on my own.
I watched through the little window in the door between the hall and foyer, ready to dive into the broom closet if someone came along. Thankfully, Jules slipped out for a smoke break after only a few minutes. I waited twenty seconds then crossed the foyer, passing the pretty oil painting—a bunch of fruit. I opened the door on the brand-new Virginia morning.
Holy shit, I did it.
I kept to the side of the road that led down to the security checkpoint, glancing over my shoulder now and then to make sure Jules was still around the corner and out of sight and not ready to jump out and yell “Gotcha!” for the second time.
The road curved and the checkpoint outpost came into view; I ducked behind a tree.
Now what?
The security wasn’t too tight—except for me, the residents were there voluntarily. But unlike the parking lot, the fence here in the forest had barbed wire coils along the top. It became a solid brick wall on either side of the road at the checkpoint. Red and white striped boom barriers kept traffic from coming or going unless raised by the security guard. The forest was cleared for a good ten yards on either side of the road, and more fencing buffered it all the way down the hill. Even if I managed to sneak past the guard, I’d be a sitting duck.
I gnawed my lip, half-wishing I had taken Rita up on her smuggling plan. Waltzing out the front door was the easy part.
A plan of my own popped into my head then: keep waltzing. Hide in plain sight.
Not a great one, I admitted, but the only one I had. I popped a piece of bubblegum into my mouth, put on my sunglasses and crouched low. My heart pounded in my chest and I prayed the guard was tired this morning. Dozing. Maybe reading a paper.
Moving as fast as I could while crouched over, I dashed toward the outpost and flattened myself against its left side. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to hear the door open and the guy bust out to grab me.
Nothing. Only the tinny sound of a small TV. The View.
That show is still on? I thought those gals would’ve killed each other by now.
Breath held, I scooted along the edge of the checkpoint and peered over the window. The guard had his back to me, feet kicked up on the desk, absorbed in the show.