Philip climbed out as soon as I was near the bottom and started down the stairs, taking them several at a time. Naomi shoved the folder into her jacket as we reached the last landing, then did something to the ladder to make it drop to the ground. As soon as it clanged down she leaped nimbly onto it with a cool move where she put her feet and hands on the outer edges and slid down like a goddamn action movie star. For a brief instant I was tempted to try it, then decided I’d end up with two broken ankles, and therefore simply climbed down as quickly as possible using the normal method. I looked up as I did and saw Kyle finally climbing out the window. I didn’t see any men in black fatigues, so I could only assume he’d dealt with them. He was still hurrying, though, so apparently it wasn’t a permanent “dealing with.”
I hit the ground a few seconds after Naomi. She looked up to make sure both men were on their way down, then took off at a run for the end of the street, me at her heels. I heard boots hit the ground behind me but didn’t waste time looking back. If it wasn’t Philip and Kyle I sure as hell didn’t want to slow myself down by looking.
At the corner Naomi dropped to a normally paced walk, then gripped my arm to pull me close and make sure I slowed down as well.
“Don’t look back,” she warned, somewhat breathless as we proceeded down the sidewalk. She pulled her phone out and did something, and when I heard the click of the camera I realized she’d taken a picture behind us. “Philip and Kyle are going the other direction,” she told me. “No sign of pursuit, but we need to do some traveling before we head back to the hotel.”
“To make sure we aren’t being followed?”
“Right.” She flashed me a slight smile. “You’re getting the hang of this espionage shit.”
I snorted. “Hey, illegal activity is kind of my thing, You know?”
She snorted right back at me, turned a corner and ducked down another street, then broke into a run again. I kept up with her, and this time was ready for the abrupt shift to a walk when we reached a larger avenue.
“They’re in a drawer,” I said as I settled into an amble beside her.
She did a quick scan of the traffic then motioned for us to cross the street. “What’s in a drawer?”
“Pictures of you,” I said. “Tons of them, all the way back to when y’all were babies.” I gave her a sidelong glance. “You never told me you and Andrew were twins.”
Naomi shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and quickened her pace slightly. “Who wants to be twins with an asshole?”
I stayed right beside her. “He wasn’t always an asshole, was he?” I asked. “I mean, there were some really cool pics of you two when you were younger. Hell, even when y’all were teens, you looked really close.”
“A lot can happen in ten years.” Expression tight, she glanced both ways before jaywalking toward the subway station. “Andrew made his choices, I made mine, and that’s that.”
And what about Kyle and his Saberton personnel photo? What kind of choices did he make? The memory surfaced of Chris dead with K Y scrawled in the dirt. Had we all been thoroughly played? I felt queasy at the thought. It didn’t help that I felt ready to burst with the need to talk to someone about it, but no way could it be with Naomi. She was too close to both Saberton and Kyle to see clearly. I needed to get Philip’s take on the whole thing.
I stuck right by Naomi’s side as we descended the subway stairs, and I even managed to swipe the MetroCard the right way on the first try. Only a couple of other people were on the platform waiting for the train, but we walked farther down to be sure we were alone and to give us a better chance of seeing anyone coming after us.
“Those were Saberton men at the apartment,” I said as soon as I knew we wouldn’t be overheard. “How the hell did they know we were there?”
Her forehead wrinkled with worry. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s surveillance I wasn’t aware of.” She grimaced and shook her head. “But I can’t see Andrew putting up with that in his own place.”
“Oh, shit, I almost forgot!” I said and smacked my forehead. “I think something’s going to happen to Jane.”
“Why? What did you find?”
I yanked my phone out and pulled up the picture of the invitation. “This.”
Her expression grew more serious as she peered at the tiny picture. “Damn. He sure as heck has some sort of interest in her. When is that?”
“Tomorrow, eight p.m.”
From down the tunnel we heard the roar of the approaching train. “Let’s get our asses back to the hotel nice and safe,” Naomi said. “Then we can figure out what to do.”
Chapter 16
Getting back to the hotel “nice and safe” took a couple of hours by the time we rode the subway, changed trains, took a bus, two different taxis, and then the subway again before hiking five blocks. The whole time I couldn’t get the image of Kyle’s mugshot out of my head, but when we finally reached the hotel I figured if anyone tailing us still had us in their sights they fucking deserved to catch us, and I’d invite them in for some damn drinks.
Philip and Kyle were already there when we made it to the room, but only by about fifteen minutes, according to them. I grunted a tired greeting, then gave Philip a head nudge to follow me into the bedroom.
I closed the door as soon as he entered, poised and ready to tell him about the picture of Kyle, but the words caught in my throat when he turned, and I got a look at his face. He’d had tons of practice hiding pain, but I knew the signs. Deep furrows between his brows, his mouth drawn down a bit on the right side, and the slight squint to his eyes.
“What’s going on with you?” I asked instead.
He stripped off his shirt. “This.” He gingerly lifted his arm to show me his side, and corpse stench wafted over me. Mottled skin surrounded a large patch of oozing rot and exposed ribs. “The thigh is just as bad,” he said, expression grim, “and my arm is close to unusable.”
“Shit,” I breathed as I put my hand over the matching place on my side. No, not matching. It was in the same location, but my imprint-mirrored rot was little more than a spongy patch. Gross, but not gross. I peered at his side in dismay. “It’s getting worse.”
“It is,” he confirmed. “And today the pain started. Not the rot itself, but the areas around it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Plus a killer headache came on about an hour ago and won’t go away. A bad one. Goddamn MegaPlague.”
Shit. It had to be bad for him to call it bad. “Eat some brains,” I ordered. “Drink some coffee. And lots of water.”
“I’ve been drowning in water,” he said. “And Kyle’s leaving now to pick up some pizza he ordered. We’ll put brains on that.” He blew a breath out. “It’s like little needles inside my head. I’ve never had anything like it before.”
“Then lie down,” I said, firmly pointing to the bed. “It can’t hurt.” At least I hoped not. This whole Plague thing was so weird, I honestly had no clue what would help or hurt, especially now that it was MegaPlague.
He sat on the edge of the bed, then carefully reclined and draped his arm across his eyes. “Damn, Angel. This is bad. I’m sorry.”
“Shut up,” I told him gently. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you’re going through all this crap.” No way would I ask him about Kyle now. Another hour or two wouldn’t make a difference. “Rest. You need it.”