I nodded and took the phone. The GPS application was already running, and a blue line stretched along a small map, showing me exactly where I needed to go.
I followed the GPS through quiet suburban streets. It was late and there weren’t any other cars on the road, but the streetlights were on and helped guide the way. I was exhausted, but there was an edge of adrenaline still jolting through my veins, keeping me awake and alert.
It took us about ten minutes to get to the hospital. I slowly pulled up the driveway toward the emergency room.
Brooks helped the girl up front. She’d been shot in the stomach, and blood was slowly dripping down from the bandage he had shoved against the wound.
“She doesn’t speak English,” he said to me, frowning, “but this is going to have to be good enough. Pull up here, open the door, and as soon as she’s out, you have to drive away.”
“Can’t we make sure she gets in?”
“Absolutely not. They have cameras all over the place.”
I hated this, but I knew he was right. I pulled up out front of the emergency room and Brooks whispered something to the girl. She seemed to understand and nodded.
I opened the doors and Brooks gently helped the girl down the stairs. As soon as she hit the ground, Brooks closed the doors.
“Go,” he said, his face calm.
I hated it, but I pulled away. The last time I ever saw that girl was in the rearview mirror. She watched us drive off, a sad look on her face.
“Come on,” he said, “we have to focus. Where’s the next place?”
I turned out from the hospital and checked the phone. It was already guiding me to a new destination. “Somewhere in the city,” I said.
“Let me drive. You should rest.”
“No,” I said. “I’m good.”
He grinned at me and sat down in the seat behind me, sighing. “How long?”
“Forty minutes, looks like.”
“Okay then.” He leaned back and sighed. “This is what this sort of work is, mostly.”
“What, running through a burning forest?”
“No,” he said softly. “Making hard choices between long stretches of boredom.”
I nodded. “I get that.”
“Leaving her wasn’t an easy choice, but it was the right one.”
“I know.”
“I want you to understand that. Maybe one day in the future you might wonder about her, but you need to remind yourself that you made the right choice today in leaving her behind.”
I nodded but didn’t answer. He was looking out the window, a serious expression on his face.
He was right. I was already having second thoughts about leaving her there, but I knew this was the right thing. They could save her life at the hospital, and we couldn’t risk everyone else for her. It was hard enough getting her there and leaving her without someone staying behind.
Besides, most of these girls were here illegally. They’d be thrown out of the country as soon as the police found them, though that would be a good thing compared to what the mafia would do to them if they got to them first.
No, this was the right choice. Like Brooks said, it was the hard choice, but it was the right one. I couldn’t start to second-guess myself.
I wished I could go back with him, press myself against his body, and feel his strength. I needed some of that strength in me, needed some of his cocky smile and his confidence.
But tonight, I had to be the source of my own strength. After what I went through, I was beginning to believe that I could make it through anything. I survived my father, I survived his killers, and I survived that house.
I was a survivor. I had to keep going.
* * *
The drive went relatively fast. Once we were in Chicago again, we had to be pretty careful. We were driving around in a small school bus full of illegal girls, most of them with small injuries. We were about as conspicuous as it got.
But we reached the safe house without any issues. It was a small place tucked in the back corner of a quiet residential neighborhood in a very nice part of town. The streets were all clean, the lights were all working, and the homes were nicely manicured. It was essentially the opposite of my own neighborhood. These houses were worth millions of dollars, at least.
I stopped outside the place. Brooks stood next to me. “You sure?”
“Look.” I showed him the phone. “See? This is the place.”
“Nice fucking neighborhood,” he said. “Stay here.” He climbed off the bus.
I watched as he walked up the stoop and rang the bell. He’d left his rifle behind, but I knew he at least had his knife. The door opened and he stepped inside.
He was gone for a few nerve-wracking minutes. The girls were looking around like frightened birds, and I smiled at them to try to calm them down. That probably just looked creepy, though, since they couldn’t really understand me. One managed to smile back weakly, which gave me hope.