Suddenly the floor was gone from under her and Megan fell screaming. The fall was short and she landed softly as the trap door above her closed, plunging her into darkness. The soft surface beneath her suddenly sprang up and she was tilted forward onto a harder plastic slide that was almost sheer.
This drop too was short and the slide levelled out until she emerged tumbling to a soft floor- like that of a children’s playground. Megan gained some footing and scrambled backwards until she felt the soft padding of a wall at her back. Her eyes darted about the darkness but almost at once a low soft red light began to appear, like that inside a haunted house at the funfair and she was able to see the room she was in. It was a small square with only the slide and a doorway for exit or egress. She stood and was aware of noise coming from outside the room.
As she listened, Megan soon became sure the noise was that of voices! Could it be there were other people here? Other people who were able to talk to one another? Or was it another of Spalding’s tricks? Perhaps a speaker was down the hall playing something, or a TV set. She walked to the door and looked outside. A short corridor ran in both directions so that this door was right in the middle of it. She had lost her bearings in the fall so could not be sure where she might be in relation to the house above.
Megan stepped out into the hallway and followed the sounds of the voices. She’d only moved about ten feet before she was sure they were real. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of seeing real people and talking to them. Who were they? She listened.
They were talking about the news! She heard the ruffle of newspaper and someone say,
“I think he’s treating Iran just the way they deserve.”
“Just the right way to start a war, you mean,” someone else retorted. Megan was at the door to the room now, her hand resting on it. She hesitated, worrying for an instant how she must look—a nice reminder of her old life suddenly—but dismissed it and leaned to the door. It opened a crack and the room fell silent at once and she saw three people staring with wonder at her.
“Come in!” a young man said rising from his chair and coming over to her. The others stood too and Megan was aware of others in the room also rising, she could hear the chairs and there were murmurs of excitement running through lowered voices.
The door opened wider and Megan saw ten people in all standing facing her eagerly.
“Come in,” the man said more softly this time, “We know it’s been tough for you.”
With these words of kindness and the smiling friendly face before her, Megan dropped to her knees and wept uncontrollably.
Chapter 21
BUDDY HAD BEEN AS GOOD as his word and arranged for Carson to be stowed away on a truck running up north to Canada the night after they spoke. They didn’t have a chance to meet up again but Carson thanked him and said he would one day do something to pay him back.
As the truck rolled north, farther and farther away from his troubles, Carson began to relax a little. His face had already dropped from headline news but he knew the manhunt was still on and he was glad to be getting out of the area they were focusing on.
Not long into the journey though, he began to think about things. For the first time since stepping into the bathroom in Vito’s his mind was able to clear a little. In his mind’s eye he saw Buddy’s face, the doubt there as to whether he’d done these terrible things or not. True the face had been replaced with a look of relief when Carson told him he was innocent but wouldn't there be countless others who would still assume his guilt. Other people he knew in his life, the police and the FBI? Perhaps running away wasn’t the smartest move to make after all.
At this though, Carson put his hand deep into his pocket and came out with the scrap of paper the man in the alley had given him. He looked at Tyler Ford’s number through the slanted light that came through the slats on the side of the truck.
“What can you do for me, Tyler Ford?” he said out loud.
The border couldn’t be too far away now. Apparently there would be no trouble with the patrols at the crossing—some deal Buddy’s place had with the guards Carson couldn't even guess at.
The truck pulled in and Carson looked outside. It was a huge truck stop area, a large gas station and diner on the side of the road and a few acres of parking spaces for big rigs and trucks. Carson saw the driver going towards the diner, stuffing a rolled up newspaper in his back pocket as he went.
All was quiet now and Carson listened to his own breathing. Softer and easier than the last few days.
He didn’t want to run.
It took him close to half an hour to figure out how to open the truck door from the inside and then he didn’t know how to close it once he was out. The driver wouldn't be happy, but Carson hadn’t actually met the man and as such didn’t really care. There was nothing he could do about it and he couldn't risk going inside to tell him he was leaving and not crossing the border illegally with him after all.
He walked across the concrete as though he were used to the place, just another truck driver taking a break. There was bound to be a payphone somewhere around the gas station, and he hoped it would be outside and away from eavesdroppers.
Carson was in
