Hideout by Jack Heath (iphone ebook reader txt) 📕

We stare at each other for a long moment.

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘You take the truck. I’ll stay in the slaughterhouse and defend the prisoners.’

‘That’s stupid,’ she says. ‘You’re just one guy, with no weapons.’

‘I’ll try my best.’

‘Your best won’t be good enough. The perps will eat you alive.’

Ha ha. ‘What, then?’

‘We go back,’ Thistle says. ‘You chain me up again.’

‘What?!’

‘Just listen. We can try this again tomorrow night. That gives—’

‘No,’ I say. ‘I’m not—’

‘It gives you all day to figure out how to turn off the motion sensor in the driveway, and it gives me all day to prep the other prisoners. They’ll do as we say if they have some warning.’

‘The Guards ordered replacement cameras for the slaughterhouse.’ I grab her arm. She shakes it off. ‘They’re supposed to arrive tomorrow. They’re going to torture you.’

Thistle swallows. ‘I can handle it.’

‘We can’t stay any longer,’ I insist. ‘Three people have died since I got here.’

‘Wait. Three?’

Hailey must not have told the others about Samson. Maybe she didn’t believe me. I quickly explain about the hiker, Zara finding Samson’s body, me concluding that he was murdered, and Fred asking me to investigate.

Thistle chews her lip. ‘So we have a potential ally. Whoever killed Samson could be on our side.’

‘Maybe. But I don’t know who that is.’

‘Could it be the hiker?’

‘I can’t figure him out at all. If he is the killer, he had to know where all the cameras were—except he didn’t, because we caught him on one the night before. And Samson had to trust him enough to let him in. If that’s the case, who is he? And if it’s not the case …’

‘Then who is he?’ Thistle finishes.

‘Right. And even if he did know Samson, that wouldn’t explain how he knew me.’

‘So we’ve got the perps on one side, us and the prisoners on the other, and either one or two unknown parties, depending on whether the hiker and the killer are the same person.’ She frowns at the trees.

I’ve missed this: working with Thistle. I want to say so, but I’m afraid she’ll be repulsed.

‘I think identifying the killer has to be our top priority,’ she says. ‘Getting all the prisoners out will be hard. Having an ally could make all the difference.’

‘And if they’re not an ally?’

‘Then we can still use them. If the perps are turning on each other, they might be too busy to notice a prison break brewing. But you need to work out who the killer is, today.’

‘Thistle, you don’t have to die for those people back there.’ I suck in some air, like a deep drag on a cigarette. ‘You can just go. I’m begging you—please, just go.’

‘You know I can’t do that,’ she says. And I do. I want her to leave, because I love her. But I love her because she won’t leave.

I rub my face. ‘All right. Jesus.’

We make our way cautiously back towards the slaughterhouse. The closer we get, the more anxiety calcifies my lungs.

‘You haven’t asked me about the baby,’ Thistle says.

‘What baby?’

‘The baby they said I killed.’

I glance over. ‘I just assumed that was bullshit. Obviously, you didn’t kill a baby.’

‘No,’ Thistle says. ‘But I had an abortion.’

‘Oh.’ I’m not sure what to say to that. It’s like when someone says they’re pregnant—you’re supposed to congratulate them, unless it was an accident, in which case congratulations are the last thing they want to hear. The context for the appropriate response is missing.

Someone who has had an abortion may want sympathy, or even forgiveness—or they may be deeply offended by the presumption that they need either of those things.

‘Nothing to do with you,’ Thistle adds. ‘But I want to know how they found out.’

‘Maybe they didn’t. It could be a coincidence.’

‘Maybe. Or maybe my doctor is one of their customers. Either way, I need to know. Okay?’

I nod. ‘I’ll see what I can find out. Was this about four years ago?’

She glances sharply at me. ‘How did you know that?’

‘Just a guess.’ Knowing Thistle, if she was having unprotected sex, it was probably with her husband, and if she got an abortion, it was probably just after they split up. ‘But it might help me to work out how Fred got the information.’

‘January ten,’ Thistle says. ‘Four years ago next month.’

I keep my eyes down. ‘Got it.’

Soon we’re back at the slaughterhouse. Thistle’s steps slow down as she approaches. Getting chained up in there again probably seemed like a better idea when the building was out of sight. It’s all sheet metal and sharp edges, glinting in the rising sun.

‘You sure about this?’ I say.

‘Yes.’ She heads for the door, teeth clenched and shivering. Like she’s climbing the ladder towards the highest diving board.

I unlock it and pull it open. Just as we’re about to go in, she grabs my arm. ‘Tell me again that I can trust you.’

‘You can trust me,’ I say.

‘You’re coming back to let us all out tomorrow night. Right?’

‘Tonight, technically.’ It’s almost dawn.

‘You’re not going to switch sides on me?’

‘I’ve always been on your side.’

‘Liar.’ A joyless smile. ‘You’ve always been on your own side.’

She has a point. But I just risked my life to save her, and I’ll do it again, as many times as it takes. The only good things I’ve ever done, I did for her.

‘I’m coming back for you,’ I say.

She nods, and then slips into the dark. I follow.

The other prisoners look surprised to see us coming back together. They thought I was going to kill her. Now they probably assume I raped her in the forest. I don’t really care what they