“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.