James Moore - Subject Seven

Her legs still ached a little from the long run to jump onto a CSX car as it slowly rolled past. She’d had to run hard, and yeah, running in flip-flops, not such a great time, slinging the bag with every step. Then the bag went onto the car and she followed it. She slipped once and there was a line of red flesh along with a few scrapes to show where her shin had banged against the steel edge of the train car’s wide door.

There hadn’t been anyone in the car already so she hadn’t had to fight anyone. The sort of people that jumped trains, according to her mom, were the sort that would kill you as soon as look at you. Having seen a few of the men in her time, she could believe it.

She took the time to count the money while she was traveling. Then she counted it a few more times to be sure. Just a little under two million dollars. Crazy money. The sort of money the mob would come for. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh because it was all so damned crazy.

Once Tina was clear of the railroad tracks and the commercial yard where she’d climbed free, she headed down the closest access road. It followed next to I-95 and let her keep her eyes on the prize, as her mom liked to say.

While she walked, she thought about Tony. He was cute and sweet in his way and she didn’t like the idea that he might be the one that the money belonged to. She’d have to call him. She had to know what was going on and how deep she’d stepped in it.

Half a mile farther along she came across a motel. The sign said there were vacancies, and she sat outside in the bushes and watched for a while before going in.

The man behind the desk looked at her through the bulletproof glass that separated them. “Help you?” He looked about as interested in her as he was in watching mold grow on old cheese. That suited her just fine.

“Me and my mom, we need a room.” She’d told more than her share of lies since she was old enough to walk.

“Got any ID?” He took the time to look at her for a second, like it was a big favor.

She crossed her arms and gave him a look that said he was wasting her time.

“Then you’ll have to pay a security deposit. A hundred dollars. It’ll have to be cash.”

The room cost twenty-eight dollars a night. She’d seen the sign from the road. But she knew the deal well enough. A hundred dollars was a fortune, literally more money than she’d ever held in her hand until earlier that morning, but it was also enough to guarantee that the man didn’t care about her and her mom. He probably thought she was there to hook or to meet up with some guy she’d met on the Internet. From the look in his eyes, he’d forget about her for a hundred extra.

She needed his amnesia, so she reached into her pocket and fished out the small stack of twenties she’d put there earlier. He took the money and slid her a room key. “Checkout’s at ten in the morning. Leave after that, pay for another day.”

She took the key and grabbed her duffel bag and found her room.

Before she did anything else, Tina took a shower. She felt filthy. The blood was long gone, rubbed off by her hands, but she felt dirty, so she used the little bar of soap they offered in the dingy bathroom and scrubbed until her skin felt raw. Then she got dressed in the same oversized clothes, hid her bag under the bed and walked two blocks to the closest convenience store. Forty dollars bought her a disposable phone. Twenty more bought her enough time to make a few calls on it. They had a microwave, so she heated up three burritos and took those along with the biggest Pepsi they had back to her hotel room.

It was time to make some phone calls.

She ate on the way back to the room and killed most of her Pepsi too.

Five minutes after that the phone was activated-she lied about her name and address, but mostly because she was scared it might lead Tony to her somehow-and she was ready to make her calls.

That was the plan. She was asleep before it could happen, exhaustion and nerves getting the best of her.

Hunter looked at the diner up ahead and felt his stomach kick and roar. He’d been walking for hours, never slowing, never stopping because if he did, he might disappear again and he couldn’t stand that thought anymore.

He’d lost the bloody button-up shirt, using one sleeve to wipe the sweat from his face for a while before he tossed it into the trash can in front of the diner. His wrists were still red, but not nearly as bad looking as they’d seemed earlier.

The restaurant was covered in chrome and neon, which seemed to be a state law for the way diners had to look in Jersey. He hiked his oversized pants a little higher, reached into the pocket and found a wad of bills that had no reason to be there. So be it. At least he could eat.

The place was crowded and smelled like heaven must, full of food and coffee. He didn’t even know when he started liking the stuff, but these days he was happier if he got his caffeine. He ordered a burger, rare, and a cup of his favorite drink. He’d knocked back two cups before his burger showed up. After that the coffee didn’t matter nearly as much as feeding his face a ton of hot fries and grilled cow.

The waitress looked a few years older than him, maybe eighteen, with heavily dyed red hair and light makeup. She smiled when she looked at his plate. “Somebody was hungry.”

“Still am. Can I get another?”

“Of course you can! Keep it up, you’re gonna fit into those pants real soon.” She laughed and looked him in the eyes. He wasn’t used to that.

“Well, that’s the idea. Need to build up my body.” He flexed, meaning the gesture as a joke, and was shocked by the size of his arms. No matter how much time had passed, he still had trouble with the changes. Muscles flexed and rippled smoothly and his bicep bulged. It looked damned near as big as his thigh used to be before his world went crazy. He could remember looking in the mirror and brushing his teeth while Mom watched him, her eyes smiling, and went over his homework answers with him.

The waitress laughed again and patted his arm, her fingers lingering for a second and her eyes taking on a different light. “Don’t change too much, hon. You’re looking pretty good to me.”

She left to take care of his order before he could open his mouth and say something stupid. The way things were going, he’d never get good with talking to girls. He couldn’t even find his way home.

He felt the skin on his scalp crawl and looked around at all the tables. People laughed, they talked, they snuck fries from each other’s plates, hell, one couple sat together and read different books as they ate, but they were together. He envied them for that.

At a few tables other people ate alone, but even they seemed more relaxed than he did. Every nerve in his body was telling him that he was being watched by someone nearby. He looked everywhere, even shifting around enough to see the people behind him, but there was nothing, no one. They couldn’t have cared less about him. He might as well have been invisible.

Was it someone outside, maybe? He looked out the window, but all he could see was a line of cars with the sun flashing from the windows and windshields. The day was too perfect, and the resulting glare made seeing anything in the cars around him impossible. They could be staring at him and there would be no way he could prove it.

He could be staring, the bastard who’d locked him away. Or had he? His heart raced at the thought.

He rose on shaky legs and moved toward the men’s room as the waitress was bringing his next burger. He had to get away, now, before something horrible happened. Before someone broke down the doors or the police came swarming in or something even worse.