Hamilton, a forced break of sorts, and then I'd face the enormous risk of travelling across the border.
It would be so easy to give in now. To run away with my tail between my legs. To let Roan McLaren win this round. But this round was too important. I needed to dig deep now, to reap the reward later. As I settled into my seat on board the bus and considered what a life outside of New Zealand could entail, I resolved to make this work. To play Roan, just as he was playing me. He expected me to run. He wouldn't expect me to return to the city where he had finally found me.
The bus pulled out of the terminal and I watched all the newly familiar sights of downtown Auckland move slowly past. This departure felt different for so many reasons. One, I didn't want to leave. Two, I knew I would return, even if for one day. And that had never happened in my travels before. No two places ever visited again. And finally, if I was truly honest with myself, the third reason this departure felt different was because of him . Part of me was impressed he'd found me at all. Five years hiding gives you a sense of worth. I was good at hiding, yet Ben, Gen's Tiki tattoo wearing friend, had found me.
That intrigued me. That and the fact I couldn't help feeling Ben hid in plain sight too. Just like me. He hid in order to track someone; to watch them from the shadows, but not be seen. How many times had my eyes skimmed over his hiding spot this morning? How many times had I seen him and not perceived? He was undoubtedly my enemy, but for the first time in my life I felt a connection to another human being that made me feel alive.
Because you can't deny you're alive when your heart continues to beat itself right out of your chest. Even now, thinking of him, my heart rate was climbing and my breathing was starting to saw out of my mouth. I chided myself mentally and worked on lowering my blood pressure and just enjoying the sensation of being on the move again. I managed to lower the BP, but the moving again part no longer held any interest for me.
That's why I had to risk a return to Auckland in three days time. That's why I had to push the boundaries of the rules my father had given me, in order to stay safe. Because I couldn't keep going like this. I just couldn't. And that scary thought was enough to make me have to work on my blood pressure all over again.
By the time we reached Pukekohe, just South of Auckland, and the bus stopped for one last pick up, I was feeling better prepared for what lay ahead. I had a plan. An ID in the making. A destination in my mind. An escape route mapped out. This was familiar territory. This was what my father had taught me to do.
I watched as two male passengers boarded the bus and sat down by the driver. Both dressed in leathers more appropriate to riding bikes. I searched for any visible club patches or markings, but if they wore art it was hidden from sight. One had a goatee and dark straggly hair, the other was clean shaven and bald. They paid no notice to anyone around them, just hunkered down and flicked through car magazines in their laps.
Satisfied they offered no potential problem, I let my mind wander as I stared blankly out at the scenery flashing past. As it usually does, when I'm fleeing a location because I've felt my cover was blown, my mind went back to my father. To a scene near the end of the three years he'd taken to prepare me for this exact moment.
"You must always be vigilant, Sarah. Even when you're sure you are safe, don't lower your guard."
"But how do I do that, Dad? How can anyone stay so focused all of the time?" I asked, genuinely bemused at his insistence it can be done.
"Because the alternative is capture. Do you want Roan to capture you, baby girl? Just because you forgot to check your surroundings and lowered your guard?"
"No, of course not. But surely he'll give up on me after a while. Surely I can live a normal life eventually."
My father walked across the room we
It would be so easy to give in now. To run away with my tail between my legs. To let Roan McLaren win this round. But this round was too important. I needed to dig deep now, to reap the reward later. As I settled into my seat on board the bus and considered what a life outside of New Zealand could entail, I resolved to make this work. To play Roan, just as he was playing me. He expected me to run. He wouldn't expect me to return to the city where he had finally found me.
The bus pulled out of the terminal and I watched all the newly familiar sights of downtown Auckland move slowly past. This departure felt different for so many reasons. One, I didn't want to leave. Two, I knew I would return, even if for one day. And that had never happened in my travels before. No two places ever visited again. And finally, if I was truly honest with myself, the third reason this departure felt different was because of him . Part of me was impressed he'd found me at all. Five years hiding gives you a sense of worth. I was good at hiding, yet Ben, Gen's Tiki tattoo wearing friend, had found me.
That intrigued me. That and the fact I couldn't help feeling Ben hid in plain sight too. Just like me. He hid in order to track someone; to watch them from the shadows, but not be seen. How many times had my eyes skimmed over his hiding spot this morning? How many times had I seen him and not perceived? He was undoubtedly my enemy, but for the first time in my life I felt a connection to another human being that made me feel alive.
Because you can't deny you're alive when your heart continues to beat itself right out of your chest. Even now, thinking of him, my heart rate was climbing and my breathing was starting to saw out of my mouth. I chided myself mentally and worked on lowering my blood pressure and just enjoying the sensation of being on the move again. I managed to lower the BP, but the moving again part no longer held any interest for me.
That's why I had to risk a return to Auckland in three days time. That's why I had to push the boundaries of the rules my father had given me, in order to stay safe. Because I couldn't keep going like this. I just couldn't. And that scary thought was enough to make me have to work on my blood pressure all over again.
By the time we reached Pukekohe, just South of Auckland, and the bus stopped for one last pick up, I was feeling better prepared for what lay ahead. I had a plan. An ID in the making. A destination in my mind. An escape route mapped out. This was familiar territory. This was what my father had taught me to do.
I watched as two male passengers boarded the bus and sat down by the driver. Both dressed in leathers more appropriate to riding bikes. I searched for any visible club patches or markings, but if they wore art it was hidden from sight. One had a goatee and dark straggly hair, the other was clean shaven and bald. They paid no notice to anyone around them, just hunkered down and flicked through car magazines in their laps.
Satisfied they offered no potential problem, I let my mind wander as I stared blankly out at the scenery flashing past. As it usually does, when I'm fleeing a location because I've felt my cover was blown, my mind went back to my father. To a scene near the end of the three years he'd taken to prepare me for this exact moment.
"You must always be vigilant, Sarah. Even when you're sure you are safe, don't lower your guard."
"But how do I do that, Dad? How can anyone stay so focused all of the time?" I asked, genuinely bemused at his insistence it can be done.
"Because the alternative is capture. Do you want Roan to capture you, baby girl? Just because you forgot to check your surroundings and lowered your guard?"
"No, of course not. But surely he'll give up on me after a while. Surely I can live a normal life eventually."
My father walked across the room we
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