Page 113 of So Thirsty

“It is already in progress,” Elisa says, turning to go behind the strip mall. “It is too late to stop it.”

“Um, I know I’m a rookie, but I don’t think it’s smart to commit a crime if you can’t then flee the scene of said crime,” I say.

“I’m with Sloane on this,” Naomi says, and it’s so good to finally be back on the same page, to be back in sync with her.

“No one will know there was a crime. If anyone notices at all, they will assume whatever is missing is due to a clerical error. They always do,” Elisa says. She doesn’t seem particularly stressed, considering the circumstances, but that does nothing to reassure me. “I will try to fix the camper.”

“And what if you can’t?” I ask.

“Then we will find another way,” she shouts over the engine. “Do not despair.”

Naomi furrows her brow, equally put off by Elisa’s optimism. She draws back the curtain as we pull up next to a dumpster on the narrow stretch of pavement behind the strip mall, which bumps against a patch of winter-bare woods. There are two cars parked in spaces that run parallel to these woods. A silver Toyota Corolla and a beat-to-shit 1990-something red convertible, the top up, one of the side-view mirrors adhered with duct tape.

As I look at these cars, inhaling the exhaust from the camper, it dawns on me.

We’ll be stealing more than blood tonight.

33

E lisa gets out and gets to work on the camper, which continues to sputter even with the engine off. It’s obviously a lost cause.

Through the window, we watch Ilie emerge from the bank with two coolers. He takes one look at Elisa, drops the coolers, and goes back inside. He reemerges moments later with a set of keys. He unlocks the Toyota and drags the coolers toward the car. He pops the trunk, and Henry appears next to him, helping him load.

“We’re not all gonna fit in that car,” Naomi says.

“Nope,” I say. “Not to mention, if he took those keys without anyone noticing, I’m willing to bet someone’s going to notice soon enough and report their car stolen.”

“Unless…”

“Unless…?”

“Do you think our new friends would leave that kind of loose end? Or do you think they’d…”

“Henry promised me no one would get hurt,” I say.

“Do you believe him?” she says, turning to me, letting the curtain fall.

I hesitate, fearing speaking it out loud will jinx it somehow. But I’m tired of cowardice, so I go ahead and say it. “Yeah. I do. I believe him. I trust him.”

“Well, that’s something.”

The camper door rips open. It’s Henry.

“We need to go,” he says.

We stare at him, not sure what to do, what to say.

“We need to go now.” He reaches for me and pulls me out of the camper. I hang on to Naomi, and she stumbles after me. The snow is dense and heavy, the wind severe.

“You two in the back,” he says as we hurry toward the Corolla. “Ilie and Elisa will get you out of here.”

Elisa slips into the driver’s seat and starts the car; Ilie gets into the passenger side. Tatiana comes up behind Henry, and it allows me to momentarily dismiss the sense I have that someone else is approaching. Momentarily. But the man’s heartbeat is so loud. His scent so strong. There’s a stink about him.

A problem. A complication. An inevitability. There will be no clean escape. Whoever stays behind will meet him, decide his fate.

He’s coming. He’s getting closer.

And with him, a sudden crystal clarity. Not horror, or anxiety. Not even thirst. Only a calm resolve that’s eluded me for so long.