The Hunted (18 page)

When DJ Dan's voice came back on, Shy spun toward Carmen. “That was Addie.”

She nodded. “I had a feeling.”

“You did?”

“I could tell by your face.”

Shy looked at Dale and then turned back to Carmen. “She was warning us.”

“No,” Carmen said, “she was warning
you.
”

Shy motioned toward the radio. “Dale, can you play that whole interview again?”

Shy listened to every single one of Dale's recordings before walking upstairs with Carmen, to the room where they were told they'd find Shoeshine. Shy pushed through the door without knocking. “They know everything, Shoe,” he said as he walked in. “And they're not gonna stop until…”

Shy paused when he saw that Shoeshine was stripped down to his
chones,
dressing his own ugly thigh wound over a white towel covered in splotches of blood.

Shoeshine set aside the rifle he'd had on his lap and quickly covered his thigh and pulled his shirt over his head. But Shy had seen everything. Shoeshine's stitches were ripped to shreds. And there was a nasty layer of pus near the borders of the wound, like it might be getting infected. And Shoeshine had a long, thick scar running down his chest.

Carmen gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “What happened to your stitches?”

“Just a little tear,” Shoeshine said, hiking his pants back up and doing his belt. “But I got off lucky compared to some.”

Shy glanced at Carmen, who shifted her eyes to the floor. The three of them were quiet for a few seconds. Shy cringed. Shoeshine's wound made him flash back to the blood caked to Marcus's side. And he still couldn't believe what he'd just heard on the radio. Addie. Warning him. Was it possible her dad had taken her off the island by force? That she had no idea about LasoTech's plan to gun down all the people on the island?

Maybe Shy was wrong about her.

“I'm sorry you all had to see that back by the freeway,” Shoeshine said, breaking the silence. “He was a good kid.”

Shy watched Carmen nod and lean back against the wall.

It was the first time either of them had heard Shoeshine apologize. For anything. But instead of making Shy feel better, it stressed him out. He'd seen the man's wound. What if Shoeshine planned to stay here? What if he and Carmen were on their own from this point forward?

“Anyways,” Shy said, pushing these thoughts out of his head. “We just heard something on the radio you need to know about.”

Shoeshine stood up, fully dressed now, and listened as Shy recapped everything he'd learned from Addie's interview. LasoTech knew their sailboat had made it back to California, and they knew what was inside the duffel.

Shoeshine stared at Shy for a few long seconds. “And here I thought you were coming to me with new information, young fella.”

“But we know
for sure
now.”

Shoeshine folded up the bloody towel and set it down at the foot of the bed.

Carmen pointed at the rifle. “You already got the weapons we came for?”

Shoeshine lifted a long gun bag off the floor, set it on the bed and unzipped it. “There's one for each of us. And plenty of ammo. We can no longer afford to be on the road unarmed.”

Shy was relieved. Shoeshine was coming with them.

“So are we leaving now?” Carmen said. “The sooner we get this duffel to Arizona, the sooner we can be done with all this hero bullshit.”

Shoeshine shook his head. “From now on, we only travel at night.”

“So we'll be harder to see,” Shy said.

Shoeshine sat back down on the bed. “And so we can avoid the heat. We'll cover more ground that way. Especially the deeper we get into the desert.” The man loaded ammunition into the rifle beside him, snapped the barrel back into place, put on the safety and slipped it into the gun bag.

Shy looked at the clock on the wall. “So what are we supposed to do until dark? It's barely two o'clock.”

“Rest,” the man said. “And eat. Try and get your strength back.”

Seconds after Shoeshine kicked Shy and Carmen out of his room, they ran into an older, balding Mexican man who introduced himself as Mario. “Well, isn't this convenient?” he said, clapping his hands together with a grin. “I was just looking for you two.”

Shy knew Mario was the guy who ran the place, so he held out his hand and introduced himself. Carmen did, too, saying: “Thanks for letting us stay here last night.”

“From what I understand, you guys aren't leaving until tonight. So I thought I'd show you around.” Mario glanced at Shoeshine's closed door. “I realize the world is crumbling all around us, but there's no reason I can't still be a good host.”

Shy followed Mario and Carmen down the long hall and out the front door. As they passed the gate they'd come through the night before, he thought he heard the vague sound of a motorcycle engine. He stopped and listened closely, peering through the gate, but all he saw was dust floating across the dirt road in the distance.

“You okay?” Carmen said, stopping too.

“You hear that?” he asked her.

“What?”

“It was probably just a coyote,” Mario said. “Or a deer. There's wildlife all around this property, looking for handouts.”

As they resumed walking, Shy's brain started spinning. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he could've sworn he heard a motorcycle. What if LasoTech had tracked them all the way out here? What if they had helicopters waiting down by the freeway? Addie's words kept spinning though his head: “They know.”

“They know.”

“They know.”

Mario led them to the other side of the massive, half-collapsed hotel, pointing things out along the way: a row of overgrown tennis courts, a giant, dilapidated gazebo, a drained Olympic-sized swimming pool full of dirt and weeds. He listed all the movie stars from the forties and fifties who used to vacation there when the resort was the place to be. They were all names Shy had never heard of, but he tried to picture the place cleaned up and packed full of guests.

How weird to think that people were born in different eras, with different adversities. A world war for one generation. Earthquakes and a deadly disease for the next. He wondered if there had ever been a time when shit was just peaceful. When a kid his age could just hang out with his friends and not worry about getting bum-rushed by some greedy pharmaceutical company.

They went down creaky wooden stairs into a dense, overgrown section of forest where Mario pointed out natural springs that smelled like rotten eggs. He explained that the sulfur springs were the big draw back when the resort was at the height of its popularity. There were over a dozen pools of various sizes and temperatures, and according to Mario, indigenous people had made use of the sulfur water's healing powers long before the mountainside was claimed by settlers.

“Do people still use them?” Carmen asked.

“My residents and staff do,” Mario said. “Or at least they did before everyone ran off.”

Carmen wanted to know more about the movie stars who used to visit the resort as Mario led them back up to the hotel. Shy followed a few steps behind, staring at a distant helicopter and thinking some more about Addie's warning on the radio. The chopper was so far away he couldn't even hear it, but that didn't mean it wasn't LasoTech. They were probably scouring every inch of land between LA and Arizona. If so, Shy didn't see how he, Carmen and Shoeshine were going to make it to the Avondale border. A few rifles wouldn't slow down a rich company that had access to helicopters and trucks and automatic weapons. Maybe this whole duffel bag trip was one big suicide mission.

Shy stopped in front of the hotel where Mario and Carmen were standing, and the three of them stared at all the damage in silence. The building was ten stories of peeling white paint and broken columns. The entire left-hand side had caved in during the earthquakes. The roof sloped toward the overgrown lawn on
both
sides, and all the front windows were boarded up.

Mario shook his head. “For twenty years I've been trying to raise enough money to buy this place outright. The plan was to renovate the hotel and create the largest special needs residence in the country. But I could never quite get to my number. And then, of course, the earthquakes hit….”

Shy looked up at the helicopter again. It was still a long ways away, but he could vaguely hear it now, which meant it was closer. He wished it would hurry up and be night already so they could get back on the road. There was nothing left to do here but wait, and the waiting was probably the worst part of all.

“I have to tell you,” Mario said, turning to Shy and Carmen, “your friend is truly one of a kind.”

It took Shy a few seconds to realize Mario was talking about Shoeshine.

“So he really worked here?” Carmen asked.

Mario nodded. “For just about five years. He was our night watch.”

“That's what you called him, too, right?” Shy said.

Mario nodded. “He insisted.”

Shy had to crack a smile, his first since he and Marcus had their talk in the gutter. It was good to know some things never changed. “So what else can you tell us about him?” Shy asked. “He never talks about himself.”

Mario chuckled. “I don't know much. He mostly kept to himself.” The man paused to look up at the circling helicopter. It seemed to be getting farther away again. “I remember he was always reading books and writing in journals.”

“He
still
does a journal,” Carmen said.

Shy's interest was piqued. “Do you have any idea what he writes about?”

Mario shook his head. “I asked him once. But all he'd tell me was some mumbo jumbo about recording the world. I do remember this, though. Soon as he finished a journal, he'd burn it in the fire pit out front and start a new one.”

“He'd
burn
it?” Carmen said with a frown. “Why?”

Mario shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Shy imagined himself sneaking a peek inside Shoeshine's journal. It was locked, but he knew if you peeled down a corner of the leather cover you could at least make out a few lines.

“We did have a beer in town once,” Mario said. “The night he put in his resignation. I wanted to thank him for all he'd done for me and the residents, and he humored me. When I asked where he was from, he didn't give a straight answer. But he did tell me he came from a family of wealthy landowners.”

“Rich people?” Shy was shocked. Shoeshine definitely didn't strike him as someone who came from money.

“That's what he said.” Mario cleared his throat. “He also told me that the day he turned thirteen he packed a bag, hugged his parents and walked off their property.”

“Why?” Shy and Carmen said at the same time.

“Let's see if I can remember his exact words,” Mario said. “ ‘A safe, happy life behind gates is no life at all.' I guess he hasn't seen his family since that day.”

“That's harsh,” Shy said. He couldn't imagine walking away from his family at
any
age, much less thirteen.

“I remember when he told me that,” Mario said, “I called him a modern-day Buddha. Nightwatch—or Shoeshine, as you call him—laughed with me a little. Then he set his empty glass down on the bar and shook my hand. Next thing I knew he was walking out of the bar carrying his bag over his shoulder. I hadn't seen him for almost seven years when you all showed up late last night.”

Shy tried to imagine Shoeshine seven years younger. Did he have the crazy gray hair back then? What about the magical braided chin beard? Shy glanced up at the sky again. The helicopter was nowhere to be found.

Mario cleared his throat. “I also brought you out here to ask a favor.”

Shy nodded along with Carmen.

“Nightwatch wouldn't tell me exactly where you all are going,” Mario said. “And I'm guessing you won't tell me either.”

“We can't,” Shy said. “Sorry.”

“It's probably better if you don't know,” Carmen added.

Mario nodded. “Well, I'm guessing it's not all that close. Is that fair to ask?”

Shy glanced at Carmen. “It's not close,” he admitted.

Mario looked past them, back toward the building. “He's in no condition to walk, I don't think. Maybe I can at least help out in that department.” The man nodded at Shy and Carmen. “Keep an eye on that old guy for me, will you? Last night when I spoke to him, something didn't seem right to me.”

“His leg's hurt pretty bad,” Carmen said.

“He got stitched up a few days ago,” Shy added, “but they got messed up.”

Mario stared up at the clear blue sky for a while, like he was thinking. “I was afraid it might be something like that.” He shook hands with Shy, and then Carmen. “You'll do that for me, won't you? You'll keep an eye on him?”

“Did Mario take you to see his car?” Esther asked as she led Shy and Carmen toward her room.

Shy looked at her, confused. “His car?”

“I'll take that as a no.” Esther opened her door and flipped on the lights. “He has this fancy old car he shows everyone and their mother. But I guess he's too preoccupied now.” She pointed for Carmen to sit in one of two metal folding chairs in the center of the room.

Carmen looked at Shy and shrugged, then sat in the chair closest to her.

Esther stood behind the other one. “I'm so tired of doing readings for the same people over and over and over.” Shy couldn't believe how fast she was talking. He understood she was excited, but it was more than that. She was acting like this was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her. “Finally I get to do someone new!”

Shy stood just inside the doorway, looking around the small room. The shades were drawn and the walls were painted purple and black. The sheets on the single bed were black, too, and next to the bed was a dresser covered with candles, big and small. He watched Esther walk over to her dresser and start lighting the candles, like she was getting ready for some kind of séance.

“Lights, please?” she said to Shy.

He flipped off the overhead light.

“You can sit here.” She directed Shy toward a black beanbag he hadn't noticed in the corner of the room. “And please try not to disturb us.”

“Yeah, Sancho.” Carmen smiled. “Keep your ass quiet over there.”

“I'm surprised you're even here,” Esther added. “I figured you'd be in the tech room with Dale and Tommy.”

“Me?” Shy said. “Why?”

“Supposedly that DJ guy is making some announcement. I don't know. Something like that.”

Shy moved over to the beanbag and dropped into it with a hiss. After listening to hours and hours of recordings this morning, he needed a break from the radio. If it was up to him, he and Carmen would be in one of those sulfur pools right about now. Or they'd be asleep. But Carmen insisted he escort her to the big palm-reading session. She acted like she was excited about the reading, but Shy knew the truth. She wanted Esther to be happy.

Carmen was good like that.

Esther took Carmen's left hand and turned it over in her lap. She ran her fingers across Carmen's wrist and the inside of her thumb and forefinger and took a series of long, dramatic breaths. Then she began tracing the lines inside Carmen's palm, making odd humming and tongue-clicking sounds.

Shy tried not to laugh out loud as he watched the woman furrow her brow in concentration. He'd never believed in stuff like palm readings or astrological signs. Reality wasn't in someone's hand. It wasn't in the stars. Reality was helicopters chasing your ass down the freeway. Reality was a big truck crashing into the Sony lots and two LasoTech dudes aiming guns at you. Reality was what happened to Marcus. And Shy's family. And all those babies he'd seen in the hospital nursery.

“Oh yes,” Esther said, tilting her head to the side slightly. “I see it clearly now. You, my dear, have suffered a devastating loss. A loved one, I believe. This is what the gods have given to you this past year. Before the earthquakes even. Someone in your family.”

Carmen glanced at Shy, raising her eyebrows. “My dad?” she asked, turning back to Esther.

“That's it!” the woman exclaimed. “Oh my. So much pain. So much confusion.”

Shy rolled his eyes. The art of palm reading was keeping shit so vague it could be taken a million different ways. He hoped Carmen understood that.

“But this line here,” the woman continued, pressing her thumb into the middle of Carmen's palm. “You will not suffer the same fate yourself. No, I see a long, long life.”

“That's what I like to hear,” Carmen said.

“The gods will make sure of it. You will grow old and see the world change quite drastically.” Shy watched Esther blink dramatically as she began tracing a different line. “But what about this one here?” she said. “Your love line.”

“What about it?” Carmen said, her expression suddenly serious.

Shy was surprised to see Carmen actually getting into it. He leaned forward a little in the beanbag, waiting to hear what nonsense would come out of Esther's mouth next.

“Very interesting,” the woman said, nodding.

“What?” Carmen said.

“There's someone waiting for you.”

“There is?” Carmen glanced at Shy again. “Who's waiting for me? Where is he?”

“I see him clearly,” Esther went on. “He's pacing back and forth on some kind of field. A park maybe. Near a body of water. He's waiting for your safe return.”

“What park?” Carmen wanted to know. “Like a
park
park? With swings and shit?”

Esther dropped Carmen's left hand and picked up her right. “The left hand is what the gods have given you,” she explained, “but your right hand tells what you're going to do about it.”

“You hear that, Carm?” Shy said. “Ol' girl's running a two-for-one up in here.”

When Carmen didn't laugh, Shy waved them both off and leaned back in the beanbag. He couldn't believe she was taking it so seriously. She'd heard the recording about San Diego this morning. There wasn't anyone waiting for
anybody.
Yet here Carmen was, holding out her palms and hoping her damn fiancé was pacing back and forth in some park, dreaming of her return.

“He's not where you imagine, though,” Esther said. “He's somewhere else. Somewhere far away from home.”

Esther started saying something about tree roots, but Shy was no longer listening. Not really. He was thinking instead. About Marcus and the last talk they had. About Shoeshine's thigh. About his entire family being taken away, and how lonely he felt now. And then he thought about the trip they would resume as soon as the sun went down. Getting to Arizona was all he had left, he realized.

What if they actually made it, though? What would he do then?

His mind drew a blank.

And then Shy found himself remembering Addie. The two of them sitting across from each other in their broken lifeboat. All the talks they had. And how they huddled together those last few nights to keep warm.

Shy climbed out of the stupid beanbag. “Yo, this shit's getting a little corny for my taste,” he announced. “I'm outta here. Peace.” He walked right past Carmen and Esther on his way to the door.

He was surprised that neither of them even looked up as he left the room.