Dark Hope (41 page)

“If you hadn’t been there tonight, if you hadn’t stopped him from taking us—”

“Shhhh,” I soothed. “You don’t have to think about it. You’re safe now.”

I’d barely uttered the words when a huge slam jolted us from behind, sending the car careening against the metal rail. I gasped at the sudden jerking motion and swung hard on the steering wheel, trying to pull the car back into the lane. Horns sounded as I swerved, almost cutting off another car.

A large black sedan loomed in my rearview mirror. They’d caught up with us.

“Damn it,” I muttered. “How did they find us?”

The lights of the black car seemed to grow steadily as it prepared to ram us again.

“We have to lose it, Hope! We can’t go back with those men!”

“I know, I know!” I shouted, desperately looking for another gap in the traffic, another place to maneuver where they couldn’t ram us. I headed onto the right shoulder, darting around the slower cars, unleashing another torrent of angry honking. The black sedan swung right behind us, never slowing.

I veered back across two lanes to the left side. I had no idea where I was going, no plan for escape. I didn’t know the city. I couldn’t even find my own way to the hotel if I wanted to, I thought in a panic.

The car was so close now that I could see their faces from behind the glass. The sedan was packed with several men, including the bulky guard from Chen’s room and the one I’d knocked out. One of them unrolled the window of the front passenger seat and started to climb out, taking aim with a long pistol.

Maria screamed as he lowered the gun. From the backseat, I could hear Jimena muttering over and over, “
Santa Maria, ruega por nosotros—Santa Maria, ruega por nosotros
—”

I jerked the wheel to the right, cutting in front of another car. The black sedan slowed, shifted lanes, and pulled forward again as the man re-aimed.

I could see him in my rearview mirror. The barrel of his gun seemed as if it was pointed right at me. Everything seemed to slow as he grinned a wicked, satisfied smile and pulled the trigger.

I ducked instinctively, knowing that nothing could deter the bullet from its path, waiting for it to rip through my flesh and bring this chase to an end. “I’m sorry, Maria,” I whispered, hoping that somehow she and her sister would still find a way to escape.

Suddenly, a shudder shook the car as something heavy landed on the trunk.

Maria and Jimena began shrieking hysterically. I heard a flurry of gunshots but nothing seemed to hit us. The trunk quaked and groaned, springing forward as whatever had landed on us jumped from our car to the traffickers’ car.

I surged forward from the momentum, stepping on the gas to increase the distance between us. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a flash of sword and fire as the other car swerved off the road.

“Michael,” I breathed. I should have known he wouldn’t have given up on us until he knew we were safe.

A huge explosion shook us, and I almost lost control of the car. Billowing smoke raced after us and chunks of blackened metal hurtled through the sky, moving as one in a screaming arc that soon engulfed our car, dancing around us before disappearing in a flash.

“We need to get away from here,” I breathed, more to myself than anyone else. I stepped on the gas again, inching it up. Eighty. Eighty-five. Ninety.

By the time we heard the sirens whining behind us, bringing emergency vehicles and police to the scene of the accident, we were miles away. We wouldn’t stop driving until dawn.

eighteen

O
nce we’d gotten outside of Las Vegas, the buildings and signs seemed to fall away, exposing the desolate desert for what it was. The more distance we put between us and the Chinese gang, the safer I felt. I rolled down the window, gulping in the dry desert air, hoping it would overpower the pain that was reasserting itself so vigorously.

We went past at least ten outpost towns, identical in all but name. I rejected each of them, having a vague sense that we would be found there, that we would stand out from all the other desert travelers moving through. But with the gas gauge pushing empty and my nerves spent, we finally gave in and pulled into a tiny mom-and pop-motel right off the interstate. A quick search of the glove compartment had turned up a credit card emblazoned with my name, another surprise gift from Michael, no doubt. The night clerk gave us a hard look, but he grudgingly gave us the keys to a room with a view of the interstate after I had fished the credit card out of my pocket to present to him.

Once we were settled in the room, I edged over to sit on top of the air conditioning unit, one eye peeking through the curtains to watch the road. Maria and Jimena eyed me nervously. They had been curiously quiet since we’d left Las Vegas.

“I think we lost them for good,” I smiled, turning back to them, the effort stretching my skin and setting every nerve ending on fire. They were staring at me in earnest now. I looked down and saw how bedraggled my bandages were, and I realized how I must look to them. A wave of fatigue washed over me again.

I started to stand, and Jimena flinched as if she was afraid of me. I froze. Slowly, I eased back into my perch.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly aware of how uneasy they both seemed.

Jimena began speaking, her child’s voice soft and slow as she looked at me with wonder. The Spanish words flowed together, gaining speed and volume as she spilled out what was on her mind, her eyes growing wider and wider.

I looked at Maria, raising my eyebrows and waiting.

“She thinks she saw an angel,” Maria said simply. “We both do.”

I sighed. “Back in Las Vegas?”

“Yes,” Maria said. “On the cars, fighting the men who captured us. Was that your friend?”

I paused. They had been through so much already. I didn’t have the heart or the energy to lie to them, so I just nodded mutely.

“That’s how you found us?”

I nodded again.

They sat, stunned.

I leaned back into the window, the coolness of the glass giving me some relief. I closed my eyes, struggling to stay awake.

“My mother believed in angels,” Maria whispered. “Maybe she sent him to help us.”

I smiled, my eyes still shut, as I pondered that idea. It was much more pleasant than the reality I faced.

“Maybe she did,” I agreed.

“Will he come here?” Maria asked urgently. “To find us?”

I opened my eyes, knowing we needed some sort of plan. We couldn’t stay here forever. I thought through what was likely to happen back in Las Vegas: the throngs of emergency personnel, the minute investigation of the crash scene. None of it would matter to Michael, of course. He would simply evaporate into thin air, using that sixth sense of his to find us.

“Yes, I’m sure he will come to us. We just need to wait here for him. Maybe we can rest.” I gestured to the two small beds that took up most of the room, eyeing them doubtfully.

Maria looked at me in awe. “Yes, we can wait for the angel to come to us,” she said very seriously, and then broke into giggles. “The angel will come to us.”

I smiled. “You’re very tired. As am I. Let’s lie down and get some rest. Who knows what will happen next.”

Maria patted the bed upon which she sat, talking in rapid Spanish to her sister, who dutifully climbed up onto the bed next to her. “You take that one,” Maria said to me, pointing to the empty bed. “I will keep watch now. We can switch later.”

I slid under the scratchy sheets, holding my breath to keep from crying out against the pain as the rough cotton rubbed against my exposed wounds. I bit my lip.
I’ll just rest here for a little bit
, I reasoned with myself as I closed my eyes,
and then maybe I can go out to get some medication and fresh bandages
. Now that I knew I had a functioning credit card, the idea of going to a drug store did not seem so impossible.

After resting for I don’t know how long, I opened my eyes, preparing myself to get back up, and looked around. But I was no longer in the motel. I was in a long black hallway, seemingly with no end, its great length punctuated by a series of closed doors. I looked down and saw I was not in my bed; in fact, I was not lying down at all, and somehow I was free of all bandages, my smooth, pink skin glowing in the half-light that floated through the hallway from an unknown source.

You’re dreaming
.

Was that Henri’s voice or my own? I couldn’t tell, but it felt right that I was dreaming; it seemed to be the only explanation for where I found myself. I began walking down the corridor, trying each door as I reached it, but each one I found locked. Finally, one doorknob turned in my hand, and I eased the door open.

I had stumbled upon Jimena and Maria being strangled by the guard, and suddenly I realized I was back in the Chinese mafia’s maze of rooms.

Their eyes pleaded with me to help them. I looked around and again spied the heavy glass ashtray. I picked it up in my hand, preparing myself to strike the guard, but this time the ashtray turned into a rock, a huge rock with a blunt face. I looked up to where they were struggling and found that the girls had vanished. Instead of the Chinese goon, I was facing a lone man, dressed strangely in some sort of shroud.

He crouched before me, shielding his head from my blow, his eyes confused and fearful. He pleaded something in a language I did not understand, but I felt my heart harden. I raised the rock and swung down hard upon his head, only realizing as I did so that the hand that held the rock was not my own, but the calloused
and dirty hand of a person much bigger and much older than me. A man.

I bolted upright, gasping for breath. Suddenly I was back in the dingy motel, tangled in the coarse cotton sheets.

Just a dream
, I told myself, clutching at my shirt.

You were dreaming?
Henri sputtered into my consciousness.
God doesn’t send you random dreams at a time like this. Tell me, Hope. What did you see?

I pushed his intrusion away and propped myself up on one elbow to look around the room, trying to get my bearings. The room was filled with the half-light of dusk. I’d been asleep for some time. Jimena and Maria were perched on the foot of their bed, blue shadows from the television flickering over them.

Tell me, Hope
. Henri pressed me, insistently.

It doesn’t make any sense
, I hissed at him in my mind.
Leave me alone; it was just a dream
.

I cleared my throat, turning my attention to the girls and effectively shutting down any further attempt Henri could make at conversation.

“What are you watching?” I croaked through my parched mouth, trying to push the nightmare from my mind.

Maria turned and smiled. “You’re awake. Look.” She walked to the television and turned up the old-fashioned knob so that I could hear. The announcer’s smooth, accentless droning continued.

“The fiery crash was seen by several witnesses, though exactly what caused the crash remains unclear.” The scene cut from flashing lights to a talking head, one of the witnesses. “There was some sort of chase, but then something big landed on the car that crashed. I don’t know how to describe it, but I got the distinct impression it was very large.”

“While investigators sift through the wreckage to identify what it was that impacted the car to cause the explosion,” continued the announcer, “conspiracy theorists, including representatives from the Area 51 Club, have descended to investigate whether a UFO or some other ‘alien probe’ may be the culprit.”

I groaned. “Do you understand what they just said?” I asked Maria.

She grinned, nodding. “They have been playing the same news story over and over all afternoon so I had time to figure it out. But wait—there is more. Listen to this.”

She stopped speaking so that I could hear the anchor continue. “And in what proved to be a busy night in Las Vegas, another mysterious explosion and fire in Chinatown.” The scene jumped to footage of several fire units battling a blazing inferno. I sat straight up in my bed. “A vast apartment or townhouse complex owned by Chinese businessmen went up in flames around midnight last night. In a shocking twist, scores of young women—now presumed to be victims in the illegal sex trade—were rescued and freed from the fire and are now held in custody by local police. Police are working with the FBI to determine their origins and are hoping to free the women and press charges against the perpetrators soon. No sign of the businessmen on site, though, Connie, and it looks like it will take a while before the arson squad and other crime units piece together exactly what happened.”