The town is starting to perk up from
their cervejas last night."
"I haven’t seen many vehicles here, so how
are we going to steal one?" she asked as they exited the fence. The
thought alone drove her heart to beating a little heavier.
"I saw something on the way in yesterday.
Four alleyways up," he said, his stare indicating the
direction.
Jericho continued steering her, but as they
passed a group of children, he didn’t bother with pleasantries. As
she walked by, however, Chloe briefly wondered if one of them had
owned the clothing she'd stolen and noticed the shirt even now.
She cringed as she waited for one of them to
call her on her thievery, but none did, and the boys went back to
what they were doing. She and Jericho continued along, leaving
behind the stacked houses for a more industrial part of town. The
area, as well as the buildings, was small and old. Chloe suspected
they were also abandoned.
She could feel an energy rolling off Jericho
as they ducked into the dirty alley and then a few yards down into
a niche to the right between two bricked, industrial buildings with
weeds growing up between the bricks and trash blown into piles at
the corners of the structures.
There was a rusted drainpipe on the wall of
one building and a blown out tire just under, where rainwater had
collected on the inside and weeds began to grow around the base.
The alcove formed a small square, three sides bricked and one left
open to the alley. The area looked like a dumpster might have once
set within.
A rusted, white car missing a wheel sat in
the center beside a motorcycle.
Jericho went to the motorcycle.
Her eyes widened. "That!" Chloe said in a
forced whisper, looking all around them wildly. "I've never ridden
one of those things." She began to panic.
"There's a first time for everything," he
mumbled as he crouched down to pull at the wires of the engine.
Chloe tensed, hearing a door open and slam
down the alley somewhere to her right. She tiptoed to the open
area, facing into the alley. There were footsteps headed their
way.
"Jericho, someone is coming. I hear them,"
she whispered. She tried to peep around the corner, but pulled
back. Another set of women were coming close. "Hurry!"
He growled low. "I hear them. Damn it.
Almost—" The bike roared as Jericho pushed on the gas. "Come on,"
he called, hopping on. He revved the engine again, the exhaust
popping loudly.
Chloe burned with guilt for what they were
doing, but as she skipped to him and slung her leg over just as the
women came into view, she tried to remind herself their lives were
in jeopardy.
The women gaped.
One of them clutched her
breast. " Pára! Pára, " she shouted accusingly. " Socorro! " Help!
The other woman pointed and started toward
them, but Jericho revved the bike, causing both women to jump
back.
" Pára! Ladrão! Políca! Políca! " they shouted, slightly in
unison.
" Socorro! Motocicleta," the woman
pointing screamed.
Jericho spun out and raced past them,
planting his foot on the ground at the corner and slinging the bike
at an angle. The tires screeched in the alley as they zipped off,
leaving the women shouting of their thievery behind them and
calling for the police.
Chloe closed her arms tightly around
Jericho, her face buried in his back as the wind whipped at her
hair. She closed her eyes tight and made a hard attempt to pretend
she was in a different setting.
****
1330 hours, Saturday
Barbacena, Brazil
Jericho pulled Chloe off the stolen bike in
a shadowed back alley behind their destination. Tin roofs butted
against other like roofs above, leaving only slivers between where
sunlight filtered down on them in the dark. The cool shadow was a
reprieve from the open road. Chloe could swear her skin should have
burnt to a crisp. Instead, she was tanner and only a little rosy on
the tops of her arms, and going by feeling, her nose, too.
They’d made one small stop in Valença where
Jericho picked up what he had called a
their cervejas last night."
"I haven’t seen many vehicles here, so how
are we going to steal one?" she asked as they exited the fence. The
thought alone drove her heart to beating a little heavier.
"I saw something on the way in yesterday.
Four alleyways up," he said, his stare indicating the
direction.
Jericho continued steering her, but as they
passed a group of children, he didn’t bother with pleasantries. As
she walked by, however, Chloe briefly wondered if one of them had
owned the clothing she'd stolen and noticed the shirt even now.
She cringed as she waited for one of them to
call her on her thievery, but none did, and the boys went back to
what they were doing. She and Jericho continued along, leaving
behind the stacked houses for a more industrial part of town. The
area, as well as the buildings, was small and old. Chloe suspected
they were also abandoned.
She could feel an energy rolling off Jericho
as they ducked into the dirty alley and then a few yards down into
a niche to the right between two bricked, industrial buildings with
weeds growing up between the bricks and trash blown into piles at
the corners of the structures.
There was a rusted drainpipe on the wall of
one building and a blown out tire just under, where rainwater had
collected on the inside and weeds began to grow around the base.
The alcove formed a small square, three sides bricked and one left
open to the alley. The area looked like a dumpster might have once
set within.
A rusted, white car missing a wheel sat in
the center beside a motorcycle.
Jericho went to the motorcycle.
Her eyes widened. "That!" Chloe said in a
forced whisper, looking all around them wildly. "I've never ridden
one of those things." She began to panic.
"There's a first time for everything," he
mumbled as he crouched down to pull at the wires of the engine.
Chloe tensed, hearing a door open and slam
down the alley somewhere to her right. She tiptoed to the open
area, facing into the alley. There were footsteps headed their
way.
"Jericho, someone is coming. I hear them,"
she whispered. She tried to peep around the corner, but pulled
back. Another set of women were coming close. "Hurry!"
He growled low. "I hear them. Damn it.
Almost—" The bike roared as Jericho pushed on the gas. "Come on,"
he called, hopping on. He revved the engine again, the exhaust
popping loudly.
Chloe burned with guilt for what they were
doing, but as she skipped to him and slung her leg over just as the
women came into view, she tried to remind herself their lives were
in jeopardy.
The women gaped.
One of them clutched her
breast. " Pára! Pára, " she shouted accusingly. " Socorro! " Help!
The other woman pointed and started toward
them, but Jericho revved the bike, causing both women to jump
back.
" Pára! Ladrão! Políca! Políca! " they shouted, slightly in
unison.
" Socorro! Motocicleta," the woman
pointing screamed.
Jericho spun out and raced past them,
planting his foot on the ground at the corner and slinging the bike
at an angle. The tires screeched in the alley as they zipped off,
leaving the women shouting of their thievery behind them and
calling for the police.
Chloe closed her arms tightly around
Jericho, her face buried in his back as the wind whipped at her
hair. She closed her eyes tight and made a hard attempt to pretend
she was in a different setting.
****
1330 hours, Saturday
Barbacena, Brazil
Jericho pulled Chloe off the stolen bike in
a shadowed back alley behind their destination. Tin roofs butted
against other like roofs above, leaving only slivers between where
sunlight filtered down on them in the dark. The cool shadow was a
reprieve from the open road. Chloe could swear her skin should have
burnt to a crisp. Instead, she was tanner and only a little rosy on
the tops of her arms, and going by feeling, her nose, too.
They’d made one small stop in Valença where
Jericho picked up what he had called a
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