The resemblance was giving her the chills, so she was immensely relieved when, the minute he was near her, the big Kindred changed back into Vic again and held out a hand.
“Come on—let’s go,” he murmured. “Which vehicle do these keys belong to?”
Torri came out from behind the bushes and gripped his hand in hers.
“The employee parking lot is this way. O’Toole drives a big black truck with those stupid truck nuts hanging from the back hitch.”
“Truck nuts?” A look of confusion passed over Vic’s face.
“They’re like these big, molded testicles that hang down from the back of the truck,” Torri explained.
“But why?” He looked so confused she wanted to laugh. “Do your vehicles have sexes here on Earth? Are they part organic and part positronic like me? They didn’t appear that way when I first came here.”
“No, no—cars and trucks are just machines,” Torri told him. “Hanging a big pair of fake testicles on the back of your truck is just a stupid macho thing. It’s like saying—‘look what big balls I have’ to everyone driving by.”
“Do human males want to have oversized testicles?” Vic asked, frowning. “Wouldn’t that be a liability if you went into battle? They, after all, a vulnerable part of male anatomy.”
“They just want other people to think they have them,” Torri assured him. “Look—there’s his truck.”
They had made their way around to the employee parking lot and O’Toole had parked in the handicapped space—not surprising, considering what an asshole he’d been, Torri thought sourly. The truck was big and black with a thick splatter of mud on its sides and undercarriage. It had been a wet Autumn.
Dangling from the back hitch of the truck were a pair of silver “truck nuts” but what caught Torri’s eye was the fact that the back bumper and license plate was also obscured with a splatter of mud. That was good—it would throw anyone looking for them off—she hoped anyway.
“Come on, let’s go.” She nodded at Vic. “Er—do you know how to drive?”
“An Earth vehicle? I haven’t had the chance yet, but I’m very good with transportation systems. Just tell me the rules of your traffic patterns and I’ll be fine.”
“Well…all right.” Torri shrugged. She wasn’t going to argue with him—he had just gotten them both out of a place she never could have hoped to escape on her own. It was all right with her if he wanted to drive.
They got into the cab of the truck—which smelled like stale cigarettes and sour, spilled beer. But rather than using the ignition key, Vic simply put his hand over the ignition and the truck’s motor started right up, rumbling like muted thunder.
“Wow, I’d ask how you did that, but I guess it’s probably more to do with your positronic brain or net or whatever,” Torri murmured.
Vic gave her a grin which looked very human.
“Exactly. Now, I landed my ship up in a range of mountains—I believe your people call them ‘The Blue Ridge’—about half a night’s ride from here. I left it in one of your ‘scenic lookouts’ I think they’re called.”
Torri cast him an incredulous glance.
“What—you mean to tell me you left your spaceship parked where anybody could see it?”
He smiled. “Don’t worry—it’s camouflaged. We can’t have superior Kindred technology falling into primitive human hands.”
“Oh, right—thanks.” Torri laughed. It was beginning to sink in that she was free—really free—outside of St. Elizabeth’s at last! “Thank you for getting me out of there,” she told Vic. “I…I don’t know if I ever would have gotten out on my own.”
“You’re very welcome, Torri.” He reached across the seat and took her hand. “Should we go? I can’t wait to take you to the Mother Ship and introduce you to my people.”
“Wow…that sounds so weird. I feel like I’m in a sci-fi movie.” She shook her head, still trying to take it all in. “Okay, let’s go. I just wish I didn’t have to go in this.” She grimaced down at the blood-stained nightdress she was still wearing. “I mean, if I’m going to meet an advanced alien culture, this isn’t exactly what I’d pick to let them see me in.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you to put on more suitable clothing,” Vic said apologetically.
“Don’t worry about it—we were both really focused on getting out of there and it’s not like I’ll miss my boring beige scrubs. I just wish there was a way to get some more clothes. Wait a minute—what day is it?” Torri asked, frowning.
He furrowed his brow.
“I believe this is Friday on your weekly human calendar.”
“Perfect!” She felt a surge of excitement. “Chuck will be out with his bowling league. So we can stop by my house and I can grab some clothes there.”
Vic frowned.
“Don’t you think that’s an unacceptable risk? What if your mate catches us?”
“Chuck won’t be home,” Torri promised him. “He’s bowled every night for the past three years—he never misses.” She sighed sadly. “Of course, Friday used to be our date night, but not after he decided to start bowling. Sometimes I think that’s when we started growing apart, you know?”
She bit her lip when she realized that Vic was just sitting there, listening quietly, with the truck’s engine running.
“Sorry.” She looked down at her hands. “I’m sure you don’t need to hear the whens and whys of how my marriage went to Hell.”
“Torri, I’m willing to hear anything you need to talk about,” he murmured. Reaching out, he squeezed her hand gently in his large, warm one. “And if you really want to go to your old domicile to get some clothing and you don’t think it’s a risk, then we’ll go. Just tell me the way.”
“Thanks, Vic.” She smiled up at him, appreciating his kindness. She wondered what Chuck would say when he found out she had run away from the mental institution he had stuck her in with another man. He would probably assume the worst and who knew if she would ever get to explain the truth to him?
Who knew if she even wanted to try?
Trying to push the thoughts of her husband out of her head, Torri lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Twenty-Four
Vic was right—despite being new to “Earth vehicles,” he was an excellent driver. Once Torri let him know which side of the road to stay on and what the different colors on the traffic lights meant, he navigated the roads as smoothly as though he’d been driving O’Toole’s monstrous black truck all his life.
They took the back roads to avoid attracting attention. Before they had left her room, Vic had pushed O’Toole’s lifeless body under Torri’s bed and pulled the covers up to hide the torn restraints. But the orderly’s death and her own disappearance, as well as Vic’s, were bound to be noticed sooner or later.