Page 164 of Life and Death

“Are we flying somewhere?” I’d asked Archie. I couldn’t think of the plan. This didn’t sound right, though.

“No, but it’s better to be close, just in case.”

I remembered starting the loop around Sky Harbor International . . . but not ending it. That must have been when my brain had finally crashed.

Though, now that I’d chased the memories down, I did have a vague impression of leaving the car—the sun behind the horizon, my arm draped over Archie’s shoulder, his arm dragging me along as I stumbled through the warm, dry shadows.

I had no memory of this room.

I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers claimed it was three o’clock, but there was no way to tell if that meant a.m. or p.m. No light showed around the edges of the thick curtains, but the room was bright with the light from the lamps.

I rose stiffly and staggered to the window, pulling back the drapes.

It was dark outside. Three in the morning, then. The room looked out on a deserted section of the freeway and the new long-term parking garage for the airport. It made me feel better—by a very small amount—to be able to pinpoint time and place.

I looked down. I was still wearing Earnest’s shirt and too-short pants. I looked around the room and was glad when I saw my duffel bag on top of the low dresser.

A light tap on the door made me jump.

“Can I come in?” Archie asked.

I took a deep breath. “Sure.”

He walked in and looked me over. “You look like you could sleep longer.”

I shook my head.

He darted silently to the window and pulled the curtains shut.

“We’ll need to stay inside,” he told me.

“Okay.” My voice was hoarse; it cracked.

“Thirsty?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I’m okay. How about you?”

He smiled. “Nothing unmanageable. I ordered some food for you—it’s in the front room. Edythe reminded me that you have to eat a lot more frequently than we do.”

I was instantly more alert. “She called?”

“No.” He watched my face fall. “It was before we left. She gave me lots of instructions. Come eat something.”

He was out of the room before I could protest that I wasn’t hungry. I followed slowly behind him.

There was a living room attached to the bedroom. A low buzz of voices was coming from the TV. Jessamine sat at the desk in the corner, her eyes on the TV, but no interest in her expression. Archie went to stand by her. He ran his hand over her honey-colored hair.

“What’s the latest?” I asked.

“Earnest and Royal are back in Forks. The redhead gave up chasing them.”

I opened my mouth, but Archie was faster.

“They’re watching your father. The redhead won’t get past them.”

“What is he doing?”

“Working his way through town, looking for you as far as I can tell—he spent some time at the school.”