Brain(29)

Gonzo came down with the food, set it to the side, and hosed the other end of my cell down without comment. When he finished, he brought me the hand sanitizer, squirted it on my hands as I looked at the floor, and then brought my food. I accepted it without comment, and he didn’t try to talk.

He brought himself three sandwiches, and finished them before I finished the one he’d brought me — which had lettuce and tomatoes, as well as mozzarella cheese, was on sourdough bread from a bakery, not a factory, and was quite possibly one of the best sandwiches I’d ever eaten.

He curled up on a cot and went to sleep when he finished his sandwich, leaving me to sit and stew — and to plot ways of escape.

My ankle shackle was held closed by a combination Master lock, and it was likely I could figure the combination out in under a half hour, if I could manage to fiddle with it without waking Gonzo. If only I had my tools, I’d be out of here in ten seconds with a shim.

I looked at the nail on my left ring finger, which had grown quite long. I kept my nails cut short for a couple of reasons — they were removed by the Russians, and anything bumping or moving them sometimes set me off, also, keeping them short let me quickly go into disguise as a man. However, I’d let my left ring finger grow long, partly to convince myself I could, without losing it every time something bumped it, but also because, as a man, it worked to insinuate I was part of the drug culture. I used my ring finger instead of my pinkie because the nail is so damned strong, and I’ve been able to use it as a screwdriver a few times. Having your nails pulled out with plyers can make some of them grow back thicker and stronger, apparently.

Now, I wasn’t sure if it was long enough to use as a shim, but I bit it off as close to the quick as I could, wrapped it around the left shaft, and jammed it into the body of the lock. It popped open, and I quietly removed the shackle from my ankle and looked at the bars. I’d already realized two were just a little farther apart than the others. Whoever had built the cell had done so with men in mind, not size-three women.

I shimmied between the bars, moved to the steps as quietly as possible, and walked up them with my feet close to the sides, skipping the fifth step, which had squeaked as Gonzo went up.

I was giving up the opportunity for a fresh start, but no way was I going to sit naked in the cell and poop in the floor another day.

Besides, now that I knew there was an auction for the identities of people with fatal illnesses, it shouldn’t take me too much time to make the connections necessary to bid on someone myself.

Once I got beyond the upstairs door, I flew through the house, out the front door, down the steps, and breathed a sigh of relief when the car was unlocked.

It seemed a shame to rip into the steering column of a sixty-something Ford Mustang to hotwire it, but I didn’t have much choice. I’d try to make sure it made it back into Gonzo’s possession, but I needed to borrow it, for now.

I had no idea where I was, but I drove on mostly back roads for an hour, sitting as low as I could in the seat so people didn’t see my tits. They’re small enough I can flatten them with an elastic bandage when I’m a boy, but shirtless, I was obviously a girl.

With no clock or radio in the car, I still had no idea of the time, only that it was a dark, cloudy night, and I was in the middle of fucking nowhere, in a stolen car, naked.

When a sign pointed to a city, I turned the other way. Eventually, I came upon a farm that looked like it would serve my purposes, and I drove down the road until I found a pull-off, parked the Mustang, and hiked back to the farm.

The barn was a good two hundred yards from the house, and I made it inside with no dogs barking, thank goodness.

I found a fleece jacket hanging on a hook in the barn, and grabbed it and went back outside. I debated between stealing their truck or making my way back to the Mustang, and hiked back to the Mustang. I doubted Gonzo had reported it stolen, and with the jacket, I could ride into town.





Chapter Fifteen




Brain



I started cussing when I returned and saw the Expedition gone, and didn’t stop for a long, long while. I could see where Duke was with an app on my phone, as all of the RTMC vehicles have tracking devices so I can keep tabs on all of us, make sure we’re all safe, and send men to come to someone’s rescue if they get in trouble.

He didn’t answer his phone, though, so I knew he intended to take her somewhere I couldn’t find her.

McGyver was running the control room, and he was no help, though I hadn’t expected him to be.

I was on my own.

I mounted my cellphone on my bike so I could keep an eye on Duke’s location, and set off after him.