Zoe knew the evidence might support the notion that he was trustworthy, but still, the entire idea made her sick to her stomach. It wasn’t just because this man was a total stranger and obviously had a force pursuing them. Or that in her experience, people weren’t always who they said they were. Not even Lucy’s memory of him and the way he’d helped them escape could erase that fact. There was a feeling she got whenever she thought about him. Like a sixth sense, it just felt like following his direction was a bad idea. Like it would end in disaster. And from her experience, usually if it felt like a bad idea, it was.
But what else were they supposed to do? They had nowhere else to go.
Lucy crossed the parking lot, looking for a map. Zoe followed, moving through the busy station to the far side, where a large city map was plastered across the wall. “Welcome to Camden, Arkansas” was written across the top, the city laid out in beautiful colors below. The map was marked with tourist destinations for Civil War buffs and hikers. Camden sat at the base of the Ouachita River and near the large Ouachita Mountain range where they were headed.
Lucy located the coordinates on the map and traced a path with her finger across the surface from where they were to where they needed to go. Zoe pulled the backpack off her shoulder and took stock of what they had inside. The package from Summer held a couple thousand dollars in cash, instructions and passes for getting out of the country through Port Authority, new passports for Olivia and Lucy with their names changed, new identities attached, and contact information that Zoe was pretty sure was written in French.
She glanced out the station window. A Dollar General sat across the street. If they were going to trek into the wilderness, they were going to need water and food.
“Let’s go,” Lucy said.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Zoe asked.
“I recognized him. He knew about Robin, about Olivia. He said he could help me remember.”
“That doesn’t make him trustworthy,” Zoe said.
“What else are we going to do?”
It was the same conversation, round and round. And still here they were, standing in Arkansas.
“We need help, Zoe. I have to know what is going on, and good guy or bad guy, he has answers,” Lucy said. “I have to know.”
They stood there for a second, then Lucy dropped her eyes to her feet and shrugged. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want.”
Zoe shook her head and stepped forward, grabbing Lucy’s hand and interlacing her fingers with the girl’s. “Together, remember?”
Lucy brought her eyes back up and grinned. She squeezed Zoe’s hand. There was no way Zoe was leaving her now.
“Together,” Lucy said.
THEY’D STARTED THEIR trek while the sun was still high in the sky, and now as they closed in on their destination, the sun would soon be gone for the day. Lucy was leading them from the map she’d drawn in her mind. The hike was hard, filled with uncleared pathways, rocky terrain, thick brush, and sharp cliff edges. Deeper and deeper they pushed into the Ouachita Mountains.
They were out of water, their snacks depleted. Zoe was sore, every muscle aching. She was out of breath, her lungs desperate for a break. Her body felt broken and sleep deprived.
Lucy was a machine, never ceasing, calmly scaling every obstacle with ease. Zoe had long ago abandoned the idea that Lucy was a normal girl, and this physical feat was just another link in the chain of evidence.
She was about to call out and tell Lucy she needed to take a moment when Lucy pulled up to a stop, lifted a hand, and went still. Zoe’s lungs heaved, and she tried to quiet her breathing, which made her chest ache more.
“Stay here,” Lucy said, and before Zoe could argue the girl was off. They had reached the top of a steep mountainside, and Lucy disappeared into the valley on the other side. Zoe carefully sat herself down on a large boulder to her right, her muscles aching with every new movement. Her heart rate started to come back to a normal rhythm, and it allowed her to breathe easier.
She closed her eyes and hung her head, letting oxygen fill her lungs and then escape. The calm around her was peaceful, the moment of silence welcome after all she’d been through the past few days. She sat like that for several minutes, letting the cool evening air sweep past her shoulders.
Something snapped behind her, yanking her from her momentary calm, and she spun around. He stood there, a yard off, the man who had asked them to come.
Zoe yanked her backpack open and pulled out the pistol. She lifted it to eye level and aimed it at the man’s face. “Don’t come any closer,” she shouted.
He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“I don’t believe anything you say,” Zoe said.
“Okay, the feeling is mutual then.”
Before Zoe even noticed him moving, he was reaching around to his back and yanking out a pistol of his own. Aimed at her face. Zoe moved from her place on the rock and placed her other hand on the gun, trying to hold it steady.
“Who are you?” he asked. “What do you want with Lucy?” He didn’t pause for her to answer, he just snapped off more questions. “How did you end up with her? What’s your endgame?”
Zoe was shocked, nearly dumbfounded. He was questioning her motives? He thought she might have ill intent. Her mind was too tired to quickly formulate a response.
“Tell me who you are!” he barked again.
“Who am I? Who are you?” she barked back.
“Tom Seeley, special agent, FBI. And you?”
“Zoe Johnson,” she said. “Waitress.”
He looked taken aback, and she thought he might have smiled.
“You’re a waitress?” he asked.
“Yes, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“What are you doing with Lucy?”
“Trying to help her avoid getting killed by you.”
That did make him smile, and he lowered his weapon. His smile was handsome, full lips and good teeth. Actually, his whole face was handsome. Good strong jaw, with even stubble and clean-cut dark hair. His chocolate eyes had a hint of caramel undertones and paired well with his warm olive skin tone.
Zoe kept her weapon poised, even though he’d begun to put his away.
“Sorry,” he said. “You just never know who’s a threat.”
Zoe wasn’t sure whether to be thankful that he wasn’t pointing his gun at her face any longer or offended because he didn’t think she was threatening. “Well, I’m still not sure you aren’t,” she said.
“I’m not,” Agent Seeley replied.
“Oh, well, now that you say so,” Zoe mocked.
“I’m the good guy here.”
“And I’ve never encountered a guy who claimed to be good and wasn’t.”
Again he smiled, and Zoe wished it didn’t make her insides tingle.
“I like your spunk,” he said.
Zoe was trying to think of something to say, gun still raised, when Agent Seeley started toward her. He didn’t seem concerned at all.
“What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step back.
He stopped and raised his hands enough to placate her. “I really am here to help. It’ll be dark soon; we should head for the safe house. I assume Lucy went ahead to make sure it wasn’t a trap?”