Thomas Perry - Runner

"I admire you. Even before I was pregnant I wouldn't have done that."

"Later on, after the baby, you should try to get into the habit. Do it while you're young. It gives you energy, fights off depression, keeps you healthy. Part of beating these people is making a life that works."

"I don't find it easy to think that far ahead right now."

"Then don't," said Jane. "Keep your mind on today, and we'll do just fine. Let's go have dinner."

The next morning they checked out of the hotel at nine, drove out on Interstate 90 and switched to 94. They were in St. Paul in the middle of the afternoon, and then crossed over into Minneapolis.

After a few minutes Christine said, "Wow. This is so beautiful, so green. I love all the little lakes right in town."

"I was thinking of this as a place to stop. What would you think of spending the next three or four months here?"

"I don't know. Doesn't it get awfully cold?"

"Colder than you can imagine. But from now until September you're more likely to complain because it's hot and humid. The idea is to be someplace where nobody expects you to be and there are good doctors and hospitals during your pregnancy. Your due date is in September, right? We could leave here a few weeks after that, before winter sets in."

"Do you know the city?"

"Pretty well. I would sometimes stop here because a man who lived here used to sell me things."

"Like the one in New York?"

"This one was different. He was a fixer, a go-between. He knew people who would supply forged papers, but also cars with several sets of plates, or guns, or whatever else someone would pay for. You would come to him, and he would go to them."

"Is he still here?"

"No. He wasn't selective about the people he would deal with. Some of the people who came to him were pretty scary, so he lived in a big old house on a hill overlooking a nice little park with a lake on it, and had bodyguards living with him who were even scarier than the customers. One of them killed him."

"That's awful."

"I can't say I was surprised. If you pay people to be willing to kill, then you're surrounded by people who are willing to kill for money. You have money. It's a built-in problem. But don't worry. He and his bodyguards have been gone for years."

"Are there a lot of people like that here?"

"There aren't a lot like that anywhere. One reason he set up his business here was that there wasn't a lot of crime. It kept him safe, it made his customers—some of whom were carrying a lot of cash—safe, and drew very little attention. And, as I said, they're all long gone."

"Is this where you would stay if it were you?"

"The right place for you depends on lots of things. Settling in an apartment in a quiet neighborhood anywhere is better than being on the run. Minneapolis is a place you've never been to before, right?"

"Yes."

"And it's not the sort of place a San Diego girl usually would pick, because it sounds alien to people from Southern California."

"But is it the place you'd pick for yourself?"

"Probably not. I've been here too often. And it's not as much of a stretch of the imagination to see me living happily in a cold place. I've lived in this latitude, and I've seen winters. I can't say what city is the best for you, but I know this won't be the first place they'd look."

"I'll stay here."

Jane found them a hotel in Minneapolis. It wasn't as luxurious as the one in Madison, but it was a big hotel that was part of a chain, and it was comfortable. When the desk clerk asked how long they'd be staying, Jane said, "Five days." He said, "Tonight through..." and Jane answered, "Monday the first. We'll check out on the second." She bought a newspaper on the way to their hotel room.

When they were in the new room, Jane took out the classified section and began circling the ads for apartments. Christine stood behind her for a few seconds, looking over her shoulder.

"Uh ... Jane?"

"Hmmm?"

"Those are all expensive. I never had very much money, and I spent a lot of what I had just finding my way to you in Buffalo. I have to get a cheap one I can pay for when I find a job."

Jane didn't look up. "Don't think about that."

"But I have to."

"Surely you must realize that when people come to me, most of them haven't had time to plan ahead and save up for the trip. Some don't have time to pack, and some don't even have time to dress."

"Like me."

"Like you. I'll get you what you need."

"How do I pay you back? And what about your fee?"

Jane closed the section of newspaper and looked into Christine's eyes. "I don't charge a fee for helping someone who's in mortal danger, or for anything else. I'm doing this for the reasons I've always done it—because it's what you need, and because I can. When I think you're safe, I'll go home. I won't communicate with you again, and you should forget about me unless you think you've been found."

"Can't I send you something later? I want to."

"No. Sending me anything would only give your enemies one extra chance to trace you, and endanger me, too. When I started doing this, sometimes people I had helped sent me presents—birth certificates, guns, money—mostly money. In a few cases it was a lot of money. I never used much of it, so it grew. So now the fund I've always kept for travel has grown big enough to make me uncomfortable. You're my last runner. I won't be needing it for somebody who shows up at my door next week."

"Then what can I do for you?"

Jane shrugged. "You've come along too late for that. There's not much that you can do that will help me. I would like you to concentrate for the moment on being safe and having a nice life. That would mean my effort didn't go to waste. Then someday, do something for somebody else."

"You mean some innocent victim. That's who you've helped, right?"

"Not everyone who wants to disappear is a victim, and very few are innocent. All I can say is none of them deserved to die." She opened the classified ads again to signify that the topic was closed.

She didn't have enough patience to try to explain to Christine the proper way to think about money. Among the old people, a person's status had never been determined by how much wealth he could accumulate, but how much he brought back to give away. The way that the first white visitors learned to identify the most powerful Seneca leaders was to look for the men who seemed to be poorest.

Christine whispered, "Damn." She got up and began to walk toward the bathroom.

"What's wrong?"

Before she closed the door she said, "Morning sickness. And this time it's not even morning."

9

Linda Welles moved into one of the two front apartments on the second floor of a nearly new building that had eight units. Christine was now getting used to calling herself Linda Welles, because she'd had to use the name so many times. Jane had needed to take her to a bank to open an account before she could write a check for the security deposit and two months' rent. Jane presented herself as Linda's sister, who was helping her get settled. The bank gave Linda a debit card and a pile of brochures about mortgages, car loans, and other services.

They bought a few pieces of furniture and a television set and arranged to have them delivered on the first of the month. Jane was very patient as Linda chose pictures, rugs, sheets and blankets, and other furnishings because she knew that those things would help make the apartment feel good to her. Jane had done all of this many times before, and she allocated days for each of the tasks they had to complete.

There was one day to find a car for Linda. Jane picked out a four-year-old Volkswagen Passat station wagon. "This is just about right. You don't want a new car. The people who are looking for you will expect a rental, and they're all new. This has the look of something you've been driving a while, which is good. We'll take it to a glass shop and have the side windows tinted a bit so you're hard to see from outside."