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Nothing happened. I stared, anxiety mounting, but there was nothing. No sound of struggle, no gunshots, no screaming, just an eerie silence hanging over the otherwise desolate parking lot. It was taking every ounce of my willpower not to run out of the car and bang on the door.
Another minute passed. I was twitching with anxiety and worry. I couldn’t lose Emory, not now, not with so much hanging in the balance. It wasn’t the terrorist attack or anything like that, but it was my feelings for him. I realized I was in so much deeper than I had thought, and I was falling deeper every moment. I couldn’t lose him because I felt like I was just getting him.
Then the door opened and Emory was there, spotlighted by the single, weak, yellow outside light. He waved at me, gesturing for me to come.
I killed the engine and stepped out of the car. I trotted over toward him. I could see the tension in his face, the worry.
“What happened?” I asked.
“They aren’t in there,” he said, “but we did find something.”
He turned and walked into the room without another word. I followed him, wondering why he needed me.
The room itself had two double beds, an old television that probably didn’t work anymore, and that was pretty much it. The walls and ceilings were stained yellow from tobacco and the room smelled like someone had thrown up in it recently. It was basically the grossest hotel room I’d ever seen in my life.
Travis was sitting on one of the beds, holding a picture.
“Take a look,” Emory said.
Travis held it out to me, and I took it slowly. I turned it around and my heart leapt in my chest.
It was me.
I was smiling for the camera, my hair in pigtails, a big clod of dirt in front of me. I was maybe five or six, and you could tell that I was just about to topple over into the mud.
It was my dad’s favorite picture of me. He carried it with him in his wallet.
“This is me,” I said. “I mean, when I was a kid. My dad usually carries it.”
“Usually?” Emory asked.
“Always. He always keeps it.”
Travis and Emory exchanged a look.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s another clue,” he said. “We must have just missed them.”
“My dad was here?”
“There are some used glasses in the bathroom and the shower is still wet,” Travis said. “We must have missed them by an hour, tops.”
“How did they slip out?” I asked.
“Likely went around the back or some other way we didn’t know about,” Emory answered, crossing his arms.
“What do we do?”
Emory and Travis exchanged looks again, and then Emory sighed. “We have to assume the worst. It’s happening, Tara. We’re going after them.”
I sat down on the bed, feeling numbness spreading all throughout my body.
I understood exactly what he meant by that. The Network was making its move, and they were making it tonight. They were taking my dad with them and they were doing something horrible. They were going to try to melt down a nuclear reactor, and if that happened, then the whole Michigan area was going to be a nuclear wasteland. Hundreds of thousands of people would die.
And we were all that stood between the terrorists and that happening.
“I’ll prep the gear,” Travis said, standing. He left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
Emory sat down on the bed next to me. “Listen to me, Tara,” he said. “You have to stay behind.”
“No,” I said. “I can’t. I’ve come so far. My parents are so close.”
“Listen to me,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “I’m going to leave you some money. Go buy a room here in this hotel. If we’re not back in two hours, or if you hear something in the direction of the nuclear plant, you get in that car and you don’t stop driving until you hit Mexico.”
“Emory,” I said, and it came out half a whisper.
“Stop, Tara,” he said firmly. “You have to do this. You said you’d follow orders, right?”
“I can’t lose you.”
He looked at me, and for the first time I felt like he was really seeing me.
His expression softened. His lips came near and brushed my cheek, stopping against my lips. I pressed myself into his kiss, grabbing his strong body, pushing myself against him.
We kissed like that for what felt like fifteen minutes. Slowly he pulled away, and I was left panting, gasping for air, desperate to feel him just a little bit longer.
“You won’t lose me,” he said. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Listen to me, Tara.” He took me by the hair and pulled me toward him, his lips brushing against my ear. “I fucking love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
