“There’s no other choice, Sarah. If I don’t leave the Anarchists will hunt us down.”
“Instead, they’ll only hunt you,” Sarah said sadly. “I can’t talk you out of this insanity?”
“You can’t.” She hugged Sarah. “We’ll be in touch.”
“I love you, sis,” Sarah said.
The engine vibrated the small plane, and as it cut into a turn that seemed to shift passengers and luggage alike, Erin held her breath.
She pinched her fingers together, her nails biting into skin. She looked out the window. Beneath them the forest canopy sprawled in lush greenery hugging ragged limestone cliffs that punctured the jungle floor with primitive ease. The forest appeared endless, and for a brief moment Erin allowed herself to be caught up in the natural beauty of this place. While her gut tightened as she remembered that she’d be isolated, alone and only temporarily safe, temporarily out of sight. She needed a plan and she needed it quickly.
“Completely awesome, isn’t it?” said the man who had waited in line behind her.
“It is,” she agreed as ahead of them the two couples admired the view out their respective windows, the two men silently watching the passing scenery, and the husband and wife taking an endless stream of pictures.
“Name’s Josh,” he said easily.
“Erin,” she supplied reluctantly. So far she’d managed to dodge conversation with any of the other passengers. She looked at him. She had to be sure he was no threat. She reminded herself that if he were out to kill her, he would have done so, unless, of course, he was waiting for the plane to land and for anonymity. But if that were the case, he wouldn’t have been wearing that ridiculous T-shirt.
You’re seeing danger where none exists, she told herself. Still, she had to make sure he was safe. Nothing in his demeanor suggested a threat of any kind. But she’d learned early on that danger came quickly and unexpectedly.
How long would it be safe to stay here? She knew the answer even as she asked the question. Not long, a matter of days until she got a plan together. She had to get out of Malaysia, get across the border to another country and safety. She needed to sketch a path, a number of flights within the border, before leaving Malaysia for good. She needed a plan and a map, and she had fled without either.
She took a deep, shaky breath. It had been a huge misjudgment, an error. She had thought she was safe. She had let down her guard. Now one innocent person was dead and she was running without direction.
“Something wrong?” Josh leaned forward, concern reflected in the furrows in his forehead.
Damn, she thought. He’d been watching her and she hadn’t noticed.
“You’re afraid of flying?”
The roar of the engine seemed to fill the small cabin.
She wished that was all it was. Instead of replying, she remained with her gaze riveted on the window and on land—a new challenge.
“We’re about to land. See.” He pointed. “It won’t be long. You’ll be fine.”
“I...” She began to assure him and to deny any fear of flying, and then stopped. The new Erin could not afford to offer too much information, too much familiarity. Lies were her new truth. It had taken her months to become comfortable with that, and still it rang false. She still had to remind herself. Lies weren’t who she was. The old Erin had been open, trusting, honest... No more. She took a breath, put a smile on her face and met him head-on. “Thank you. This whole small plane thing makes me a bit queasy.”
“Used to do the same to me,” he agreed. But this time when he looked at her there was something darker and more intense in the look that seemed to belie the flippancy that had seemed second nature to him.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?” This time his brows almost met over the question.
“I’m fine.”
The plane began its descent and the afternoon sun gleamed on the dense greenery, adding a sparkle-like affect. Another time it might have been amazing. Now, she could feel Josh’s eyes on her. She sighed. That was all she needed—a man’s interest.
Or did she?
She shifted in her seat and eyed him from the corner of her eye. A plan began to form. Her hand drifted to the window frame. She was a woman alone, on the run. That was what they were looking for. That was how she had left. An American posing as a Canadian, one who taught school and didn’t fit here. They’d looked in the schoolyards, and they’d found her.
Once.
They’d find her again.
Traveling alone made her stand out. She had to change her name again and her identity, but right in this moment, there was nothing to do but forge ahead with who she had become. But there was something she could change.
She looked over at Josh, and he smiled almost hopefully.
Maybe that was the best cover of all. She hated being alone, yet, oddly, she had become used to it. While she didn’t like it, she didn’t feel as uncomfortable as she had in the beginning. Of course, the beginning had been laced with so much fear. The fear was still there, but it was like white noise, something that had become her daily companion, a familiar entity that reminded her not to trust.
She’d trusted and Daniel had died.
Josh stepped onto the metal stairs of the plane’s exit ramp. He was right behind Erin, her black wig gleaming like a beacon in the late-afternoon sun. He looked to the right and left as he matched his steps to hers. The tarmac stretched out, cut through the relentless jungle that closed in around them. The resort was built well above the ground and away from the unpredictability of nature in a satellite of stilt-legged buildings adjoined by wooden walkways. It was rustic in an elegant fashion.
“Heard the king of Monaco stayed here. Or maybe it was a prince. Not sure, royalty of some kind,” the older woman with a camera dangling from a leather strap around her neck said to the man who stood beside her sporting a camera of his own.
A resort that had housed royalty, Josh thought. That was new since he last visited, and reassuring. The logistics of security had already been tested.
While he considered these things, his attention never turned from Erin. He was aware of every movement, of the fact that she now stood in line just ahead of him. He watched as her fingernails scraped against the strap of a small canvas bag, making an odd rough-edged sound, the only sign that she was nervous.
His gaze shifted slightly ahead of her to the couple closest to them, and his biggest concern because of that, because of proximity. They had matching hard-shelled suitcases on wheels—oversized and, he suspected, overpacked. The luggage was a fairly good indicator that this trip was the most risky of their travels, for the luggage almost screamed safe and their demeanor capped his assessment. They were no threat.
There
