This took her to the FBI’s official website, and caused her another shock as a fuzzy still photo came up on the screen. It was her after she had just burst through that door on her way to freedom.
I... I look batshit. And I probably was. No, I definitely was. But I was also cunning. I was focused in my total madness. I just wanted out. Who wouldn’t have?
She looked in the mirror again and then stared at the image on her phone screen. She breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way anyone would think those were the same person. Her hair was long. Her face was thinner and drawn and filthy. She looked like a lifetime member of some insane asylum. While she didn’t necessarily look normal now, she didn’t look like that anymore, either.
Cain sat back and thought about those first few months of freedom. She had hitchhiked across the country, putting as much space between her and Georgia as she could, finally stopping at the Pacific Ocean, which she didn’t even know was called that. She didn’t even know how many states there were. She didn’t know what California was. It had taken her years to build up even a semblance of basic knowledge.
I had to teach myself to drive a car, take medicine, and read something other than picture books, though the librarians over the years had helped me a lot with that. I had to learn how to write my name in something other than block letters. To add and subtract. Hell, what was a credit card? Or a rent payment? Or an email? Or a smartphone? Or a computer and the internet? Or a million other things that everyone else took for granted but I never could?
She leaned her head into the steering wheel. You’ve overcome so much, El. Think about that.
She drove home to get ready to go to work. She would sleep later, after her forklift gig. She would bag working out and being a cheap chauffeur today.
She didn’t like people looking for her. She didn’t want to be found. Only bad things could happen from that.
And haven’t enough bad things already happened to me?
Well, apparently not.
Chapter 13
Son of a bitch!
Cain had returned to her home to find that the padlock she used had been removed and another put in its place. And her clothes, books, and other possessions had been tossed on the ground right outside her residential pod. That included her beer and what little food she had up there and that was now rotted and also torn up by animals. Tacked on the wall next to the lock was an official-looking notice proclaiming that any trespassers would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
Still in there, under the floorboard, was all her cash, her stash of pot, and her Glock.
“Assholes,” the voice said.
She turned to see the elderly man walking up to her. He was too thin, too shaky, and he looked ready to drop dead at her feet. He was also her neighbor and a good, kind person.
“What in the hell happened, Saul?” she asked.
“They came last night, El. Tossed all my stuff out along with me. Ruined my only good pair’a pants, and all my bottles of Ensure are for shit. And that cost a pretty penny. Assholes.” He spat on the ground.
“Who are they?”
“Said they were hired by the folks that just bought this place. Some people on the West Coast, they said. Plan to turn it into ‘luxury condos’ or some such.”
“But my rent’s paid through the end of the month.”
“So’s mine. I told them fellers that. They told me it wasn’t their problem. I could go to court and sue.”
“Right, like we can afford to hire lawyers. But I still got stuff in there.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, El. They threw my ass out last night around midnight. Scared the shit outta me. Just cut my lock clean in two. They done it to everybody here. Had the cops with ’em, just in case.”
“Cops! But how can they evict people if they’ve paid their rent? I thought there were laws.”
“Hell, laws are for the rich folks. You think anybody gives a shit about us? And when I tried to argue the point one of them said the rent money we ‘supposedly’ paid wasn’t. That we were illegally squatting.”
“That’s bullshit. What else did these guys tell you?”
“Told me if I come back they’d toss me in the can.”
“But you are back.”
“Hell, I never went away. I slept next to the dumpster.”
“Where are these ‘guys’ now?”
“I think they’re coming back tonight. They said something about fencing in the whole kit and kaboodle then.”
“What are you gonna do now?”
“This was the only place I could afford. Just got my Social Security and whatever I can earn. Guess I’ll check out one of the homeless shelters. But last time I did they was full up. And they got some mean suckers in there. Do stuff to you, take your things, what little you got. I’ll probably go to the underpass. Or maybe down by the river. They got a little shantytown there. Least till I find something else. Well, good luck.”
He tottered off to move on with his life. She had to admire his pluck in the face of losing basically everything he had.
Cain picked up all her things and carried them to her car. She returned to the building and looked at the padlocked door. She was calculating how best to do this.
“Hey!”
She turned to see the man striding toward her. He was in his thirties, about her height, around two hundred muscular pounds. His blunt expression was as serious as a man about to go to war. He had a holstered pistol and wore the uniform of a private security service.
“Hey right back,” said Cain.
He stopped cold when he saw her uniform. “Who are you?”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Dwight Talbot. I’m on duty here to secure this place.”
“Well, so am I. Name’s Donna White. I just got called up to come here. And that’s after pulling a graveyard shift.”
He looked at the logo and name on her uniform. “Steele Security? I used to work for them. They lowball the guards.”
“Tell me about it. When did you make the switch to Douglas?” she said, noting the name and logo embroidered on his sleeve.
“About six months ago.”
“Smart man. I might do the same.”
“I didn’t know Steele was on this job, too.”
“I just go where I’m told, you know how it is.”
“Yeah, I damn well do.”
“West Coasters putting up luxury condos here, so I heard,” she said smoothly.
“Hell, I was wondering what they were doing with this pile of crap. When I was a kid they made furniture here, least I think.”
“Well, we’ll never be able to afford to live here. I don’t have luxury in my future.”
“Me too. That’s the damn truth.”
“Look,” said Cain. “I know they cleared everybody out last night, but have they checked out all these buildings?”
“Dunno, why?”
“Because when I got here, I could have sworn I heard somebody inside this one.”
“Shit, really?”
“Yeah, but the door’s padlocked. You want to call the cops? Although if I’m wrong we might get our asses handed to us. But if I’m right and we score the prick ourselves?”
“We might cop a bonus,” said Talbot.
“What I’m thinking.”
“How you want to do this?”
“You got a key for the lock? I was supposed to get a copy, but in all the rush they never got it to me.”