And then the funniest thing happened. I felt okay. Not good, per se, but better. I shouldn’t have felt better though; it was unusual. This had happened before. At the opera. I had to ask, “Did we meet somewhere?”
“No.” He glanced at the ceiling and then whispered, “We have to be quiet. The town will be overrun with Libratiers. We must get you out of town. They’ll check this hole and every hole and house in Medford before they believe you’re not here.”
Of course, he was right. Bollard had his plans for me, and he would hunt me down. No place was safe.
“What’s your name?” I asked him. He was still facing the shelves.
“I didn’t mention it?”
I grunted a no.
He took a moment to answer, like he had to think about it. “Greer.”
“You sure?” I smiled and held out my hand for him to shake. “I’m Waverly.” As his hand reached for mine, he turned and for the first time I saw his face. Forget kind of good-looking. He was very handsome with tan skin, shaggy brown hair, and stubble. I looked into his honey brown eyes, and he looked into mine. I instantly felt warm, like being covered up with a heavy blanket. Better than that, actually. Because the minute he peered into my eyes, I felt safe. I felt like I was home-for-the-first-time-in-weeks better, like Christmas-breakfast-in-my-favorite-sweatshirt better.
My mind flashed to Bollard and Claudette, and I knew exactly where I had experienced my emotions changing out of nowhere. I didn’t like it. Gauging by his reaction, Greer must not have liked it either because he jumped back like I’d stabbed him with a tack. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know what you are. Don’t do it again, please.”
“Don’t do what again? Shake your hand or look you in the eyes?”
He knew what I was? I didn’t even know what I was at that point. He took a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. “Put these on.”
“Sunglasses in a basement?”
He nodded yes. I put them on even though the room was dark, and it seemed uncalled for. It was obviously to cover my eyes, and I remembered my cousin and my attack in Boston. The eyes must be how my awful family did this thing. After yesterday, I couldn’t blame him. This guy had come prepared. I had so many things to ask him; he obviously had answers.
An alarm sounded.
My heart pounded in my ears. Any feelings of warmth or home disappeared, replaced with dread. Greer stood up. Outside, footsteps approached our hideout. A man called out, “Canned pears, Mother?”
The door opened. They had discovered us so soon. I would go back and Bollard would force me to… no. No. I—we would have to fight. We had to. I couldn’t go back.
A portly man with a long gray ponytail smiled down into the hole. “I’m grabbing the peaches instead. I feel like peaches.”
He climbed in, and I rose to my feet, ready to run at the peach-lover if need be. Greer and the man stared each other down. The man circled swiftly and then lunged at Greer, his arms going around Greer’s waist, pulling him into a bear hug.
They both laughed. “I wasn’t sure you made it out.”
“Epps, you doubted?” The man named Epps let go of Greer.
I exhaled. This was not the enemy.
“The Libratiers have been all over the village; the whole place is crawling with them.” The man’s smile wavered. “I can’t believe you made it in. Elsa will be so happy. She has been up all night terrified for you.”
“Poor Elsa,” Greer said. “I’m sorry to involve you.”
“Don’t mention it. You’ve done the same.” He turned to me. “So this is the mission only you could accomplish, stealing a pretty young lady. My last mission included taking twenty pounds of cow livers. Some guys get all the luck. Now, no trackers yet so you’ll be safe for now, but you’ve got to hide fast.” Epps walked past me to the wall and a small shelf of jars. He knocked once on the top of the shelf, twice on the middle one, once on the left and finally two knocks on the right side. It opened. “It’s easy so I can remember it, once, twice, once, twice, top, middle, left, right.” Behind the shelf was a small hole deep and wide enough for two people to lie down. “Now, if you hear stealth like footsteps coming towards my cellar, you and the girl need to crawl into here. Go feet first so you can close the thing. Be gentle; the jars aren’t glued on. We couldn’t risk the suspicion. Well, you know how this stuff goes.”
“Thank you,” Greer said. I couldn’t imagine the danger Epps would be in if they found us. No, I could imagine it, and it made everything worse.
“No thanks needed. You’ve done the same for me.” Epps eyed me up and down briefly, his eyes narrowed. “Some outfit she’s wearing. The Libratiers will see her coming a mile away. I’ll try to rustle up something small enough for the lady. Now, you two should eat, Elsa’s peaches are the best, and the pears are good. Avoid the pickled herring. Just because you can pickle something doesn’t mean you should. I’ll be back when things are clear.”
“I owe you,” Greer said.
“You owe us nothing. Don’t think this makes us even, either—we still owe you more. Boots too; slippers aren’t good for hiking. I’ll see what I can do.” Epps climbed up the ladder, calling to his wife, “I won’t eat that herring again, you hear me, Elsa?”
“We need to eat quickly and get in the hole.” Greer pried open a jar of peaches with his pocketknife. He handed me the jar and then got one for himself. I downed the peaches more out of thirst than hunger. Greer opened the shelf.
“We better get in. Don’t forget anything,” he said, and he looked me up and down. “Wait, where’s
