Perfected (Entangled Teen) (22 page)

Twenty Seven

A
s the sky lightened and buildings and parking lots began to replace the forests and fields rushing past our windows, Penn’s hands regained their murderous grip on the wheel. He stiffened at every car that pulled behind us. After a while his nervous energy migrated across the car and into me.

As I glanced in the car’s side mirror at the road behind us, I kept imagining the red and blue lights of the police cruiser that had found me before. With every glint of light, every flash reflected off a window or stop sign that gleamed in the sun, my heart beat faster and my stomach worked itself into a tighter knot.

“He’s probably awake by now,” I said, knowing these were the words Penn must be repeating in his own mind.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Do you think he found the microchip yet?”

Penn shrugged. “I don’t know. Even without it, he has to know where we’re headed. I guess we’re lucky there are lots of places to cross the border. There’s no way he can know which one we’re going to.”

“You’re right,” I said, even though the knot in my stomach told me the congressman always had ways of knowing things.

“Have you ever heard of Niagara Falls?”

I shook my head.

“I’m pretty sure it’s one of the busiest places to cross the border. Hopefully we’ll blend in with all those tourists. Luckily, we won’t have to show our IDs until we get to the other side. By then we’ll be safe on Canadian soil. I don’t have my passport, but I know they’ll let us in once we ask for asylum. They’ve been really vocal about how wrong they think our new laws are. My dad complains about it all the time.”

Out the window crowds of people strolled hand in hand with large cameras strapped around their necks and huge grins plastered on their lips. Even this early in the morning the streets were packed.

“Look,” Penn said, slowing the car. “You can see the falls.”

As we came around the bend, a plume of mist rose into the sky. It was magical, a place where clouds were born. The river was churning them out before setting them free into the sky.

“It’s amazing,” I said. “I didn’t know anything like this even existed.”

Penn smiled weakly. “I wish we could enjoy it more.” He reached down and switched off the radio. “I’m sorry. I need to concentrate.”

As the first bridge came into view in front of us, Penn instinctively hit the brakes. Behind us, a car honked, but Penn hardly seemed to notice. He swerved over to the side of the road, staring ahead at the line of police cars that cordoned off the bridge.

“They’re checking the cars,” Penn said. “He must have called in a favor. Dammit! I should have known.”

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

“They’ve got all our information. I’m sure he gave them the license plate number.”

“Can’t we take it off?”

Penn shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good. They’ll have the make and model.”

“Can we leave the car here and just walk across the bridge?”

Penn sighed loudly. “No, we can’t just walk across. Too many people will see you. We can’t risk it.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No, I’m sorry,” Penn said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“Maybe if we had a different car?”

“We don’t—” Penn stopped midsentence. “Yes!” he smiled, leaning over to kiss my cheek before he put the car back into drive.

A few minutes later, we pulled to a stop in front of a squat gray building.

Penn swung his door open. “Here goes nothing.”

Inside, we were met with an icy blast of air conditioning. On the other side of the room a man who must have only been a couple years older than Penn leaned against the counter, thumbing through a magazine. He flipped it closed, placing it on top of a stack of papers.

At the other end of the counter, a young couple stood bent over a clipboard filling out paperwork. The man only glanced up at us for a moment before he turned back to the clipboard, but the woman stared at me a little longer, studying me.

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” the man behind the counter nodded as the door jangled shut behind us.

“Good.” Penn smiled. “Uh, we’re kind of thinking about renting something for the day.”

“Have you ever rented with us before?” the man asked, seeming to take the two of us in for the first time. A peculiar look crossed his face.

“No, I don’t think so,” Penn answered.

“Well…I can always check. Let me just see if your name’s in our database,” the man said.

“Oh, yeah…” Penn faltered. “Actually…um, do you have a brochure or something that we could look at first…to see the prices and stuff?”

The man fiddled with the edge of a piece of paper sticking out from underneath his magazine. “Yeah, we might have something.” He stared at me as he spoke, like he hardly even noticed Penn was in the room.

Beside me, Penn fidgeted uncomfortably while the man bent behind the counter and shuffled through the cabinets. “What’s the matter?” I whispered.

He put his arm around my shoulder and faced me away from the counter. “I can’t give him my name. I’m going to have to try to snag some keys or something. We need to try to get him to go in back.”

A second later the man stood back up. “Most people just look things up online,” he said. “So we don’t really have any brochures up here. I can go check in back.”

Penn perked up. “That would be great. Thanks.”

At the other end of the counter, the young couple had finished filling out their paperwork and were staring intently at the whole exchange.

“Uh, let me just give these folks their keys and then we’ll talk,” he said, opening the door to a little cabinet behind him, revealing rows and rows of keys.

He snatched a pair and tossed them to the man, hardly glancing at him. “It’s the white Honda out back. It’s ready to go,” he said, obviously trying to get them out fast.

As the couple walked out, the man behind the counter wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. “So, it might take me just a sec to find one of those brochures,” he said. “If you just want to sit down and make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.” He pointed to the seating area behind us.

Penn didn’t even glance behind us. “Yeah, sure.”

The man waited, watching us as we lowered ourselves down on the chairs. Could he tell how nervous Penn was?

As soon as the man disappeared behind the swinging doors, Penn was on his feet. He slid across the counter, sending the man’s magazines flying onto the ground at my feet. He swung open the cabinet and grabbed a set of keys with shaking hands.

“C’mon.” He grabbed my hand to pull me out the door, but a paper on the ground made me freeze. I bent down to pick it up and the world around me slowed.

It wasn’t a good copy. The photo was grainy and black and white, but still it was obvious that it was a picture of me. I stared at the big, bold letters, wishing they meant something to me.

Runaway Pet. $5,000 Reward.

“What does this say?” I held it up to show Penn and his face blanched.

“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing the paper. “It’s a reward poster.”

“You don’t think—” I started to say, just as the man pushed back through the swinging door.

“Hey,” he yelled when he saw Penn holding the paper.

“You asshole!” Penn yelled. “You called them, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, man. It’s five thousand dollars.”

Penn crumpled the paper in his fist as he turned back to me. “We’ve got to go. They could be here any second.”

He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me out the side door, pausing just long enough to glance back at his car parked out front. Already we could hear the sirens. We raced to the back of the building where row after row of cars lined the parking lot.

Penn glanced down at the key he still clutched in his hand.

“Which car is it for?” I asked.

He shook his head, fear burning in his eyes. “I…I don’t know,” he croaked. “We’re going to have to run.”

A long, thin alley ran between a row of buildings in front of us, but even from here it was easy to see there was no place to hide.

Behind the building a white car idled next to the air pump.

“Is everything all right?” the woman inside asked, rolling down the window as we ran toward the car.

“Please,” I begged, falling against the car. “Please, will you give us a ride?”

“Of course,” she said, reaching back to unlock the door. “Get in.”

“What’s this—” her husband began.

“Not now, honey. Get in and drive,” she ordered.

Flustered, the man threw down the air pump. For a moment it seemed like he might argue with her, but he only opened his mouth once and huffed before he did what his wife asked. Moments later we bumped across the parking lot and out onto the main road.

“Thank you! Thank you so much,” I said to the woman before turning around to watch as the flashing lights grew farther and farther away behind us.

“I thought I recognized you from the flyer when you came in, but I didn’t want to say anything,” the woman said. “The clerk was looking at it when we got there.”

“What flyer?” her husband asked. “What are you talking about? You aren’t felons or something are you, because—”

“You’re the first one I’ve ever seen,” the woman said. Her eyes were locked intently on mine. “To be honest, I didn’t really think it was true. I mean, I’ve seen stories about it on the news and stuff. I’m Jocelyn, by the way,” she said, reaching out to shake my hand.

“What stories?”

“God, Howard, would you stop asking stupid questions. She’s a pet. That stupid man at the rental place was going to turn her in for a reward. It makes me sick.”

“Oh.” His eyes went big as he studied me in the rearview mirror.

“We’re here for our anniversary,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to come, but now it just seems absurd to think that our biggest problem was figuring out how to get around and see the scenery while you were trying to make it to freedom.”

“We just need to make it across one of the bridges,” Penn said, speaking up. “I’m so sorry to ask you to take us.”

“The police are checking cars,” I explained “They’re stopping everyone who’s trying to walk across.”

“But won’t they check our car, too?” Howard asked.

Penn shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to take that chance.”

A
few minutes later, our car inched forward, following the line of vehicles stretching toward the bridge. “We just have to make it past the tollbooth and then we’ll practically be there. It looks like that’s where they’re stopping cars,” Penn said. “The Canadian border starts halfway across the river, but we need to make it to the immigration checkpoint. Can you see it?” He pointed to the line of booths running across the far side of the bridge. “Once we’re there, you’ll be safe.”

Howard drummed his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel and I looked behind us. The line of cars had grown, trapping us in.

My hands started to shake.

“Are you okay?” Penn asked, glancing over at me. “You look pale again.”

“I’m fine.” I nodded weakly.

“Here, put on my sweater,” Jocelyn said, tossing back a soft pink cardigan. “And hold these up when we drive past. It’ll cover your face.” She handed me a pair of binoculars.

The cars in front of us crept forward and finally we pulled up in front of the tollbooth. Howard fumbled with the buttons and rolled down the window, smiling up at the attendant.

“Three-fifty,” she barked.

He reached into his back pocket for his wallet with the fake smile still plastered to his lips.

“Move forward,” the attendant said, waving us on to the uniformed police officer who stood next to his vehicle, checking everyone that passed.

The officer studied the car. His gaze moved over Howard and Jocelyn. “Sorry for the delay, folks,” he said, leaning against the window. He peered in the back and I pulled my cardigan closed with one hand and pressed the binoculars to my face with the other, pretending to stare out over the falls.

“We’re stopping everyone passing into Canada today,” he explained. “Just want to make sure you haven’t seen this girl.” He held out a photocopy and Howard peered down at it.

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

The officer stared into the car a moment longer before he patted his hand against the car door and ushered us forward. “No problem. Enjoy your day at the falls.”

Finally our wheels hummed against the bridge. We were almost there.

“That was terrifying.” Jocelyn laughed. “I think my heart’s going to beat right out of my chest.”

I tried to swallow but my throat was completely dry. Past the bridge, the falls gushed gallons and gallons of water into the river.

I set the binoculars down next to me on the seat and took Penn’s hand in mine.

“Almost there,” he croaked.

Once more I glanced in the rearview mirror at the line of cars behind us and my heart stopped. There, at the back of the line, the red and blue lights of a patrol car winked in and out of sight. I sat up straighter and rubbed my eyes, hoping I was only imagining it. But then Penn glanced back. “No,” he moaned. “No. No. No. Please don’t be for us.”

My ears filled with the sound of rushing water and for a moment I wondered if I’d accidentally rolled down my window. I stared at the glass, confused, realizing that the deafening noise was actually the rush of panic swelling through my head.

“Damn it! Hurry up,” Penn yelled, beating the back of Howard’s seat.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” he said. “We’re blocked in.”

Behind us the lights grew closer as the cars in line slowly pulled to the side, letting the patrol car pass.

“We should have taken the plate off,” Penn said. “That asshole at the rental place must have given them the number.”

We pulled forward slowly, but there were still a half-dozen cars between us and the checkpoint.

Penn turned to me, his face slack. “We’ve got to get out. We’ve got to run. They’ll be here any second.”

“But what if we don’t—”

“Just run!” he yelled. “As soon as you get to that checkpoint you tell them who you are. Tell them you need asylum. They have to take you.” He reached in his pocket and pressed a piece of paper into my palm. “I’ll be right behind you. Now go!”