He came to a white door, which swung open as he stepped up in front of it. He tried again to stop or back up, but the shadow shape behind him gave him a hard push into the room beyond. The door slammed shut behind him with a final click.
He looked around but the room was bare of any furnishings; there were no windows
and when he looked behind him again he saw that the door had vanished. He called a hello but the silence swallowed his voice and nobody answered him. He wished he had been allowed to keep the little wooden soldier, something he could hug to himself for comfort. Almost instantly it appeared on the floor in the middle of the room, standing upright on the smooth cold tile. He stared at it for a moment, then cautiously approached and picked it up. It felt real under his hands; the rough wood and flaking paint that rubbed off under his fingers.
He put the toy soldier down and turned back to the smooth wall where the door had once been. Narrowing his eyes, he willed it to reappear. Almost immediately an alarm went off, a high shriek that penetrated straight into his brain and dropped him down on his knees, hands clapped over his ears. He felt his nose start bleeding but he was helpless to do anything except let it drip,
staining the white tiles, while the alarm screamed over his head.
Andraeon opened his eyes with a start, still hearing the alarm for a few moments until it faded into the faint siren of a police car outside. Jones still slept heavily beside him, his face pale; in his sleep he'd rolled over and draped an arm across Andraeon's hip, pulling him closer. He still felt warm but it was the comforting warmth of another body, not the sick heat of fever. When Andraeon carefully pressed a hand to his forehead, his skin was cool and the flush had faded from his cheeks.
A quick glance at the clock on the desk showed Andraeon that it was still an hour and a half until dawn. He tucked his head in under Jones's chin and closed his eyes again, though he didn't think he would fall back asleep. It was enough to just lie there, listening to Jones's steady deep breathing, and wait for the new day to start.
The clock said it was just before 9 when Jones finally began to stir, rolling over onto his back and rubbing at his eyes. Andraeon sat up, already missing the warmth of him, and waited until he'd opened his eyes to offer a smile. Jones just looked at him for a moment, then groaned and pushed himself out of bed, stumbling into the bathroom and kicking the door shut behind him. Andraeon heard him throw up, then the sound of running water in the sink. Sighing, he got to his feet and found the aspirin bottle, offering it silently as Jones came out of the bathroom.
“Thanks.” Jones tipped himself out a handful and downed them, ducking back into the bathroom to wash them down with water from the sink.
“We should get something to eat,” Andraeon said, hoping that if he didn't mention the previous night, Jones wouldn't remember it either. “I'm starving.”
“Yeah, we'll pick something up when we leave.” Jones wiped at his mouth and went to dig through the pack for clean clothes.
“So you're still getting rid of me?” Andraeon asked, unable to stop himself, and unable to keep the wounded tone out of his voice.
Jones winced. “It's not getting rid of you. It's getting you somewhere safe.”
“No, it's dumping me on someone else because you can't be bothered even taking care of yourself. Because you'd rather be drunk and in a gutter somewhere than facing up to Allie's death and the shithole your life's become.” Even as he said it Andraeon tried to take it back, and when it was out, practically visible hanging in the air between them, he covered his mouth with both hands, mumbling 'I'm sorry' into his fingers.
The look Jones gave him made him want to sink straight through the floor. It wasn't even angry, just full of pain and exhaustion, and a terrible grief. Andraeon moved before he thought, crossing the room and pulling Jones into his arms, though Jones remained stiff and tense. “I didn't mean... I just want to stay with you.”
“You read the newspaper clippings?” Jones's voice was so flat that only a slight inflection at the end of the sentence turned it into a question. “You must have gone through my things while I was asleep or unconscious, to know about Allie.”
“I was only trying to figure out a bit more about you.” Andraeon heard it for the excuse it was and swallowed hard. “I'm sorry. I really am.”
“Forget it.” Jones pulled away from him. “There's probably a clean shirt in the pack that will fit you, if you want to change. You'll have to live with the pants until I get you to Chase's house, or you can put on your old ones. I'm going to check downstairs.” He turned and left the room without looking back.
Andraeon sat down on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow to him, hugging it like a stuffed toy. He listened to Jones going down the stairs, knowing that his tread was so slow and careful because his head felt like rotten fruit just waiting to explode. If he closed his eyes he could almost see Jones stepping onto the concrete floor of the warehouse's lower level and moving off into the dim recesses, one hand drawing his gun.
He felt a sudden horrible suspicion that he would hear a single gunshot echo through the warehouse and scrambled to his feet, bolting to the door and out onto the landing. “Jones!” His voice sounded high and faint to his own ears, barely a squeak, and the thick silence inside the warehouse swallowed it whole. “Jones!”
Jones appeared around the corner of a stack of boxes nearly at a run, and stumbled to a stop at the bottom of the stairs when he saw Andraeon. “What is it?”
“I got scared, I guess.” Andraeon felt a blush spread across his cheeks. “In case you didn’t come back… or something.”
“Or something,” Jones said softly. He glanced back over his shoulder then slid the gun back in its holster and started up the stairs. “Let’s just get out of here. The more we move around, the harder it’ll be to track us. It’ll take a few hours to get to Chase’s anyway.” He squeezed Andraeon’s shoulder on the way by and went into the office to pack his bag.
They left the warehouse in silence, both squinting in the bright morning sunshine after the dim shadows of the warehouse. The day was even hotter than the one before; the sun beat down on them mercilessly from the brazen blue sky and before long Andraeon was sweating. He pulled his hair up off the back of his neck to try and get some air, and turned his face into the slight breeze that ghosted past him. When he opened his eyes again he saw that Jones was watching him, but Jones only looked away when their eyes met.
It was past noon when they reached the outskirts of the city and Andraeon gratefully sat down in the grass on the side of the road, panting a little until he caught his breath. Sweat ran down his chest and back under his shirt, making him grimace and pull the collar away from his neck. Jones didn’t seem to notice the heat, his eyes distant as he looked down the road.
“Are we going to walk much more?” Andraeon asked, trying to keep his frustration out of his voice.
“Just a little further,” Jones said absently. “We just have to get to the train station, then the train can take us practically to his front door.”
“Good,” Andraeon muttered, though it wasn’t; it also meant Jones would leave him that much sooner.
“Don’t like the heat?” Jones dropped down beside him, pulling up one knee and resting his chin on it.
“Not this kind of heat. Feels too much like fever.” He reached over and tested Jones’s forehead. “Good, you’re still okay.”
“I’m fine.” Jones sat in silence for a few minutes, then pushed himself back to his feet and offered Andraeon a hand. “Just a bit more walking.”
Andraeon took it and let Jones pull him up, then followed him as he set off along the road’s shoulder. Watching the way the muscles moved under Jones’s shirt—and, if he was being honest, the way he moved in those jeans—made the walk easier and he saw the train station on the horizon before he was quite ready for it. He stopped on the slight hill that sloped down towards the station and studied it for long enough that Jones looked back at him and raised an eyebrow in question.
“Just looking.” Andraeon hurried to catch up and they walked towards the station side by side. “Hey, Jones, can I ask a question?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“Where are you getting all the money for this?”
Jones looked at him in surprise then looked away. “I had some money saved up. And I have funds coming in from people I’ve worked for. I get by.”
You mean you survive enough so you can drink all the time, Andraeon thought, but he didn’t dare say it out loud. Instead he bumped Jones lightly with his shoulder and stayed quiet until they’d bought tickets and found their seat on the train. The car was nearly empty; only an elderly man intently reading a newspaper in one corner and a pair of teenagers giggling and stealing kisses at the other end. None of them even glanced up when Jones and Andraeon entered.
The train sat in the station for a while and Andraeon found it was becoming difficult to keep his eyes open; he was already tired and combined with the muggy heat it made him feel very sleepy. He covered a yawn and snuggled deeper down in his seat, letting his eyes close. Within moments he had drifted off and barely woke even when the train began to move.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the heavy thump of the train changing tracks woke him up. At some point in his sleep he’d slumped over against Jones, but instead of pushing him away, Jones had just put an arm around his shoulders and dozed off himself. He still slept, his breathing deep and even, while his eyes fluttered underneath his closed lids. Andraeon wondered what he was dreaming of; his mouth was curved slightly downwards in a frown but his muscles were relaxed.
He glanced around and saw that the car was now completely empty; at some point the old man and the teenagers had gotten off—probably in more ways than one for the teenagers, he thought, and had to bite back an inappropriate cackle of laughter—and left them alone. Still smiling a little, he looked over at Jones, reaching out to trace the curve of his bottom lip. Jones stirred and he quickly dropped his hand, but Jones only sighed and settled back into sleep.
“Don’t leave me,” Andraeon murmured. “Please don’t.” He reached up to lace his fingers with Jones’s, pulling Jones’s arm tighter around him, and curled up as much as the seat would allow to doze for the rest of the trip.
Jones woke him this time, shaking his shoulder as the train was pulling into the station. Yawning, Andraeon heaved himself up and followed Jones off the train, looking around with some interest as they walked along the outside platform of the train station. They were well out of the city now; he could see rolling fields and farmland stretching out all around the station, and in a nearby field a couple of horses grazed on the tall grass. The road running past the station was only gravel and dirt, and the vehicles he saw on it all seemed to be red, black, or silver pickups. The sun was just as bright but there was a breeze that broke up some of its heat and stirred the humid air.
“I’ll take the pack,” Andraeon said, tugging gently on its strap as they walked. “Give your shoulders a rest.”
“Thanks.” Jones let it slide down his arm and cracked his back. “See the barn up there?” He pointed to a big red barn just visible at the top of a nearby hill. “That’s Chase’s place. You’ll like it there.”
“I’ll try.” Andraeon mustered up a smile and was rewarded by a faint smile in return. Jones reached out to mess up his hair, his hand lingering for a long moment, then he pulled away and started walking up the hill.
By the time they reached the top Andraeon was beginning to regret taking the pack away from Jones, though he forced another smile when Jones glanced at him before going up to the gate. He pressed the button on the intercom and gave his name when it squawked at him, and a moment later the gate rolled silently back on its tracks. It closed behind them again when they’d passed inside and they walked up along the gravel driveway between paddocks surrounded by gleaming white fences.
They were met on the front porch by a tall man who reminded Andraeon strongly of Jones, though they looked nothing alike. There was just something about the way the man held himself, and the way he greeted them, that felt familiar and comforting. Andraeon hadn’t realized he had been afraid until he began to relax, and he was able to give the man—Chase Andrews—a genuine smile when they shook hands.
“This is Drae. I… picked him up on a job and he needs somewhere to stay for a bit while I take care of some things,” Jones said. “Fair warning, there’s people after him.”
“Why am I always your go-to guy when you have people on your ass?” Chase asked, but he was smiling when he said it.
“Because you’re a pushover.” Jones placed a hand on Andraeon’s back and pushed him forward a step, as though he were a small and reluctant child. “You going to look after him for me?”
“Like I’d say no. Come on in, Drae.” Chase opened the front door for him. “I just need to talk to Jones in private for a sec.”
Andraeon looked into the hallway revealed by the open door, then slid the pack off his shoulder and handed it over to Jones. “Promise you’ll come back.” He searched Jones’s face. “Promise?”
“Sure. I promise.” Jones took his face in both hands and kissed his forehead, then gave him another little push in the direction of the door. “See you later.”
“See you,” Andraeon said softly, and went into the house. He found the living room and settled down on the couch, twisting to watch Jones and Chase out the window. They had their heads close together for quite a while, then Jones passed Chase something and slung his pack up on his shoulder. He nodded at something Chase said then turned and went back down the driveway without looking back.
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