The Collective

Chapter Four

     I cracked open the bathroom door, watching Max. He was limp on the bed, one arm hanging off the edge. All I had to do was walk by and get outside. Simple. Except for everything used to wake Ethan up, from leaky faucets in the next apartment over, to a pillow being knocked off the bed. Max wasn't any different. We had a party one time, and he passed out on my couch. I woke up at around 3, and he was standing in front of my bathroom door, holding a lamp above his head.

     I took a deep breath. I crept across the floor, watching his chest. He didn't move. I reached for the doorknob. It popped open. So far, so good. I squeezed out. It clicked shut behind me. I forced myself to walk to the edge of the block. I tightened my grip on my bag, casting one last look over my shoulder. The door hadn't moved. I ran.

     I didn't stop moving until I couldn't. My legs shook as I collapsed into an ungraceful heap in front of a visitor center. It was closed, but I didn't particularly care. I dragged myself onto the bench. There had to be something else, some clue about who had him, and why. People didn't just disappear anymore.

     Okay. First things first. I needed somewhere to lay low. If Max was involved, that meant I had very little in the way of options. The Lady in Red knew everything about me, more than I ever told Ethan. Max probably did too.

     I groaned, fighting the urge to scream. Ethan and Max were best friends. Max was always around. What did Ethan do to make Max angry enough to change his mind?

     I lied down, shoving the letter into the bottom of my bag. It didn't matter that I needed to be anywhere but here. All that mattered now was that I had no way to get out of here and nothing to do. More than likely, I was going to be dead in a ditch by morning. Oh well, at least I'd be a well-rested corpse.

     "Excuse me, miss? Hello?"

     I shrugged the hands off my shoulders. Everything from my head to my toes felt like they were filled with helium.

     "Miss, I'm sorry, but you can't stay here."

     Wait. Hands on my shoulders. Someone else was here. I jerked upright, sliding off the bench. I took in the aging woman, smiling down at me. I muttered an apology, scrambling to get my feet under me.

     "Oh, no, don't worry. I'd love to let you stay here, but Frank keeps driving by. He's suspicious of strangers, the poor dear. Why don't you come on in? And, we'll get ya cleaned up right quick." She unlocked the door, holding it open, as she spoke.

     I spotted the police cruiser, with the aforementioned Frank. The last thing I needed was to be arrested. I could outrun him, maybe, if he got out of his car. And, if I had lots of snacks, and maybe some more sleep.

     The police cruiser stopped.

     I leapt through the open door.

     The woman pulled the door closed, locking it behind her. She pointed down the far hallway. "Bathrooms are there. I'll get you some breakfast. You look like a bagel girl."

     I nodded. I hated bagels, but I was starving.

     I washed my hands, splashing cold water on my face. I shook my hands dry, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked a bit like a raccoon. There were dark circles under my eyes, and the rest of my face was just a step up from chalky. Not knowing where Ethan was, or if he was alive, was so much worse than watching him walk away.

     I tied my hair back, swallowing the lump in my throat. I was here. I was alive. That had to be enough.

     The woman waited for me in one of the many plush, cowhide chairs. She had a plate, with a bagel, cream cheese, jelly and fruit balanced on her lap. She motioned to the chair next to her.