Ev Moore was sound asleep. He didn’t hear the knocking at the door. The knocking became a bit more insistent and still Moore snored away. Foote went back to his room and came back with a dumbbell. Now he made some real noise. Moore shot up wondering if there was an explosion. Then he heard Foote.
“Moore, you up?”
“What?” Moore tried to shake the sleep out.
“Get up, Moore!”
“What is it? Let me sleep,” he said groggily.
“No time. You want freedom, don’t you?”
“Right now, I want sleep.”
“You got five minutes. Come to Room 120, and don’t make me come back for you.”
Fifteen minutes later, Moore knocked on Armstrong’s door.
“Here, Ev. Good strong joe. No sugar and no milk; just caffeine.”
Moore took the coffee. He made a face after tasting it, and then set the coffee down, still feeling groggy. “Have you found another path to the border?”
“No,” Armstrong said. “We need information. You have Washington contacts. You’ve provided Pamela with information before. Now, we need some. I want to know who’s in CSA territory, and where they are. I want to know what we have to fear: Hogs, Squads, RACs, local authorities, etc. I want to know where they are and where they aren’t. I also want a copy of the treaty with CSA and the U.S.; what’s changed, and what kind of sanctions exist. I want to know how we can get around a media blackout. Any questions?”
“I have most of that information for you, and Pamela has a way of communicating with her brother Henry on the other side.”
“Does most of that information consist of civilian authorities like we faced last night?”
“No, only formal authorities.”
“Can you get information on the informal authorities?”
“I doubt it. You’d need a spy for that.”
Armstrong had to think on that. “Okay, Ev, get me whatever you have.”
Moore left.
“He’s probably right,” addressing his concern to Foote and Wrenn. Armstrong sat back in his chair while the other two just waited for his idea so they could execute it. Armstrong looked worried.
Eugene sat down to a sandwich and a bottle of wine. He had turned X News on when someone knocked. He thought it might be Pamela or Armstrong; maybe another meeting or someone with a new idea. When Eugene opened the door, there was Sandy.
“May I come in?”
Eugene was surprised. Sandy hadn’t spoken to him since that terrible day. “Sure, come in. I was just about to have a sandwich. Want one?”
“No, thanks, but I’ll have a glass of wine, if you don’t mind.”
Eugene poured her a glass. “I guess I am surprised to see you. We hadn’t spoken in a while.”
“I’m sorry about that. I try to not think about that day. I want to be my old self, but I think about it all the time. A man can’t know what I felt. You may think you do, but you can’t.”
“You mean I can’t empathize with you.” Sandy nodded. “You’re right. No man could.”
“The fear that I would be killed, and the shame of standing there butt naked in front of everyone…” Sandy was stressing. “…in front the goddamn traffic; horns blowing, people yelling out of their cars, and the fear that if the police came they might just arrest us. Jesus Christ, Gene. I just wanted to die. I tried to be brave. I tried to plan my escape, but when Pizzaro pulled my pants down I couldn’t run away. I didn’t know what I could do. I kept waiting for Chad to do something and the next thing I know, you’re flying out of the woods like some crazy guy.” Sandy just paused to drink some of the wine, and then more before she just downed the whole glass and poured herself another one.
Eugene stared at her. “I’m glad you came, Sandy. You need to talk about this. Let me get you something to eat.”
“No, thank you, Gene. I ate before I came here. Actually, I came here because of something else, something I heard.”
Eugene was interested in what this ‘something’ was. He sat down in the chair at the table, opposite Sandy. “What?”
“Is your last name Sulke?”
“Yeah, I guess I thought you already knew that.”
“No. Everyone just called you Gene. It was Pamela who mentioned it. I used to know a….” She changed her mind and redirected. “Did you grow up in Countryside, Illinois?”
“Sure. My parents still live there. Why do you ask?”
“Do you remember a little girl you used to like, Sandy Montgomery?” Eugene’s eyes lit up.
“Oh my God! Sandy?”
Sandy just grinned and nodded. “Yeah.”
“I do remember. I had such an odd sensation that I knew you from somewhere or that you reminded me of someone. Oh I had such a crush on you.”
“I know. I felt the same way about you.”
“Then you moved away. Gee, I think we were only about ten or twelve years old. Didn’t you move to Decatur?”
“Springfield. My dad got a job with the state.”
“I always hoped that you would write. I even hoped you’d come back again.”
“I wanted to write—even started a few letters—but I never finished them. I figured, what was the use? I knew I’d never see you again. Dad said he was set for life. He bought a home and still lives there.”
Eugene was reminiscing again. He smiled softly. “We had such fun back then. I remember the time we saw that children’s movie. I can’t remember the name of it, just that it was animated, and it was about the bear that had no friends.”
“That’s right, I remember. After the movie you bought me a soda.”
“What are the odds that we’d find each other like this?”
“Practically zero. Yet here we are. We both experienced Hell House and we grew up in the same neighborhood. Oh, what time is it? There’s a movie I want to watch.”
“Stay here. I’ll watch it with you.” Sandy smiled. Eugene got up to microwave some popcorn.
After the movie, Sandy got up to leave. Eugene stood up and walked her to the door, and then Sandy turned to him, searchingly. “There’s something that I don’t understand, Gene.”
“What’s that?”
“We should be the same age, but you look much older. I don’t know, maybe ten or fifteen years older than me.” Eugene suddenly remembered about the disguise. He then let out a laugh.
“I had been wearing this for so long I forgot I had it on.”
Sandy looked perplexed.
“The makeup. I’m supposed to look older so I wouldn’t be spotted. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Wait just a few minutes. Sit down, Sandy. I want to show you what I really look like. It’ll only be about ten minutes.”
Sandy sat down in anticipation. Then she got up, mouth agape, and smiling. “Gene! Look at you!” She let out a laugh.
“Do I look any different?” he asked, playfully. Gene had lost most of his potbelly since Hell House and his escape. Now, with his disguise off, he looked really good.
Sandy was still laughing. “Oh, Gene, you’re still as handsome as I remembered.” Eugene was beaming.
“Say, Sandy, when we get to New America, do you suppose I can call you up sometime?” Sandy just laughed.
“You better.”
Three days had passed since Chad Armstrong had ordered the lawyer to get the requested maps to him. He called more than a dozen times only to be given the runaround. He turned to his two mates, looking frustrated. “He’s in a meeting; he’s out of the office; he’s with a client. It’s always something. He never returns my phone calls.” Armstrong was steaming. “Let’s go down to Phillips’s office. We’re going to have a little talk with that scoundrel.”