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Chapter 9: Saturday
For the
second time, Charlotte woke in a strange place. It was dark, except for a
flickering light at the other end of a long room. She was disoriented and her
head throbbed with pain. She tried to remember where she was, focused on the
light. It was an oil lamp. She was in the safehouse.
Her dreams
had been strange last night. She had been running from something, or someone.
It seemed that all of her friends were against her. They all wanted to see her
caught. It was frightening to her to have so many people out to get her. She was
no stranger to the occasional fight; in fact she enjoyed the occasional fight.
But this was different. It was paranoia, and that was something she was not
used to.
She
thought back to the previous night. The heist ended without fanfare. She
hobbled her way into the safehouse and the team immediately began to fight.
It’s amazing what money and greed will do to a person. After they divided
everything, the team went their separate ways. Except Charlotte had nowhere to
go. She hadn’t had anywhere to go in a long time.
She sat
against a wall in the abandoned subway station and pulled her knees up to her
chest. She remembered where she’d come from. She remembered the orphanage that
had been her only real home. She remembered the way the teachers had abused her
and the other kids. She remembered escaping from her room in the middle of the
night. She hopped the fence and just ran.
Her
outlook on life had been different since then. She loved life, but was never
afraid to lose it. There was nobody who cared for her, no family, no true
friends. She’d found a group of people where she fit in, racing airbikes and
taking risks. It felt great to put her life on the line every day for a thrill.
As she got better at racing, she lost that thrill. She supposed that was why she
accepted this job; it was a new thrill.
Now that
she had money, she wasn’t sure where she would get her thrills. She could buy
any machine she wanted. She could have the best airbike. She could even buy a
wingsuit from old Dr. Monty. That reminded her that she’d left the wingsuit in
the tunnel. She would have to do something about that. Eventually, someone
would go snooping around that tunnel and find the suit. They might tie it to
her.
She stood
up and was instantly reminded of the crash from the prior day. Her back ached
in several places. Her wrist was throbbing and swollen. It was probably broken.
She stretched her arms into the air and the blood rushed from her head, leaving
her dizzy and light headed. She leaned against the wall to regain her balance.
She hopped onto the tracks and went to the boxcar. Her things were all still
there. She grabbed a few handfuls of gold coins and shoved them in her pockets.
Other things would have to wait.
She
climbed the stairs to the surface of the city. Today was not as clear as the
day before. Dark clouds were overhead and it smelled like rain. The rain would
be a relief from the smog that sat thick in the valley. The streets in this
part of town were abandoned as usual. As she walked toward the population
center, she saw more and more people. She pulled the hood of her jacket over
her head to avoid attracting any attention.
She walked
past a newsstand as she entered the fashion district. Plastered across the
front of every paper was a bold-faced headline: LESTER TRAIN ROBBED! Her heart
skipped a beat. Of course it would be in the news. It was the biggest theft in
recent memory. She dug in her pocket for a coin, and realized that every coin
she had was hundreds of times more than the price of the paper. She turned around
and saw a clothing boutique and opted for a change of apparel.
The looks she received upon entering the
boutique were more than a little dirty. She could only imagine what they were
thinking when she walked in. She soon found out what they were thinking when a
polite saleswoman approached to tell her that they did not sell men’s clothing.
Charlotte
laughed and pulled her hood back, “Lady, you don’t know how many times I’ve
wanted men to see me as their equal. Yet it took walking into a dress shop to
have it happen.”
She threw
a couple of gold coins on the counter and asked what that would get her. The
saleswoman nearly choked on her tongue, then apologized profusely. Half an hour
later, Charlotte walked out of the store with a new dress and the latest
fashion in ladies riding apparel. They were both completely impractical and
totally uncomfortable. But for the first time, she would fit in.
She now
had small change for the paper, and bought one on her way out of the shop. She
crossed the street to the Hotel Paladium, where she again threw down a coin and
asked for a room. Her first shower in days felt incredible. She scrubbed the
dust and dirt and filth from her skin and hair. Looking in the mirror
afterward, she realized that she looked like a battered wife.
She rang
for service and had the hotel send her a makeup kit and a giant breakfast. The
meal was more than satisfying. It was the first thing she’d eaten in a day. She
was beginning to feel more human after a shower and a meal. She opened the paper
to read about herself in the lead story. She was amazed at how many words the
reporter wrote in order to say nothing. She learned from the story that they’d
done a thorough job, and left not much evidence. She also learned that
Montgomery Lester had hired a private investigator to get to the bottom of it.
After an
hour of struggling with the kit, she had finally produced something that looked
like a normal woman. She put on her new fancy dress and winked at herself in
the mirror. “Charlotte Avalon, you’re quite a looker.”
Thinking
about the news story again, she decided that she needed to move that suit as
soon as possible. She wasn’t worried about the useless city cops finding it
anytime soon, but if he’s got a PI on the job, it won’t take much to find that.
She laced up a new pair of thick black boots. At the last minute, she decided
to bring the dress bag along with her as well. She locked the door and headed
out.
It was
amazing how things change with just a little makeup and fabric. She had men
opening doors for her, tipping their hats in the street. She suddenly felt like
she was a part of the society that had left her by the wayside. It was unfair
that the way she looked could have that effect, and yet it was really nice too.
She smiled at everyone who passed.
As rain
began to fall, she rushed to a steamer cab, arriving at the same time as a
young man about her age. “After you, miss.”
Charlotte
smiled, “Oh, thanks buddy. I mean, thank you sir.”
He smiled
sheepishly as he shut the door behind her and hailed the next cab.
How odd,
she thought. A guy who would stand in the rain a few extra seconds so she could
get this cab. None of the guys at the track were polite like that. She was
lucky if they’d let her borrow a hammer. She directed the cabby to drive her
out of the city toward the spot where the tunnel was.
Once in
the country, she asked the cab to wait for her. She borrowed an umbrella from
the driver and stepped out into the morning drizzle. The dress made it hard to
walk across the uneven surface, but she made it. Ducking into the tunnel, she
found the suit. Memories of the previous day’s adventure flooded her mind.
She shoved
the rocket suit into the ample dress bag and made her way back to the waiting
cab. Safely inside, she asked to be taken back to the hotel. The driver, who
had been silent to this point, spoke up. “You reckon this is where that robbery
happened?”
“Robbery?
Oh, the train thing? Well, I suppose it is. I hadn’t thought about it.” She was
hoping that was nonchalant enough, but she wasn’t very good at this game.
“Yeah. I
heard it was on that very rail line there. I wonder how they did it; pretty
impressive bit of villainy that is.”
Charlotte
had an urge to tell the cabby that it was her and tell him just how impressive
it was. She wanted to take his praise and own it. Instead she had to
internalize it, and pretend to be disinterested. “I suspect they were very
clever villains.”
“You can
say that again. What I wouldn’t give to meet them.” The cabby half turned his
head to look back at Charlotte. “I mean, just to find out how they did it. I’d
never do anything like that m’self.”
“Of course
not.” Charlotte couldn’t muster a polite smile.
“Say, if
you don’t mind my asking, what was it you came out here for?”
Charlotte
thought about telling him it wasn’t his business and leaving it at that. But
since he was so keyed in on the robbery, she didn’t think it wise to give him
reason to suspect. “Oh, I work for the railroad. Tunnel maintenance. I forgot a
dirty worksuit here this week and I wanted to get it laundered.” She held up
the dress bag for him to see.
He nodded
in the mirror. “You don’t look like a railworker, if you don’t mind my saying.
Rail workers aren’t usually so pretty.”
That made
Charlotte smile. “Most of my gentleman friends tell me that I clean up well on
the weekends.” She winked at the cabby, who blushed and went back to his
driving. She hoped that would be enough to keep his mind off the heist. For
once, she wished she had Anabelle’s charms to disarm this simple cab driver.
When they
arrived back at the hotel, she paid the driver and gave him a generous tip.
“That’s to keep you out of trouble.” She winked again, though she was screaming
inside at how out of character she was acting. She blamed it on the confounded
dress.
The driver
smiled back at her. “Say, if you’re not busy tonight. I get off at eight if you
want to catch a bite or something.” His face turned bright red.
“Tonight’s not good. Maybe another time.” Charlotte patted his hand and got out of the car. She headed straight for her room. She tossed the wingsuit on the bed and collapsed into a chair. Who knew that being a lady could be so exhausting?
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