Elisha's Bones - Don Hoesel [98]
Years have passed since I was last here and everything is new to me. Once we get closer to the center of town, I start to look for something open—a restaurant, a store, a gas station. But every establishment looks buttoned down. For a town with a reputation of having been the Tombstone of Australia—the quintessential Wild West town—it seems oddly tame. And the ominously silent radio serves notice that at any moment any number of identical vehicles could converge on us. I wonder if they would be able to track us with the GPS?
Running low on choices, I pull up next to a building that looks promising.
“Stay here.”
She puts her hand on the door handle. “I’m getting tired of hearing you say that, too.” Then she’s out the door, standing barefoot on the cold sidewalk.
I get out and walk to the back of the truck and find a tire iron under the rear seat. Then I join Espy on the sidewalk, where she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Without waiting for her to say anything that might give me pause, I walk up to the large glass window of the storefront and, after peeking in to make sure it has everything I need, smash in the glass. No alarm sounds, and I whisper quiet thanks for small favors. Of course there might be a silent alarm that’s been activated at a remote monitoring site. I use the tire iron to clear away the jagged edges, ignoring the fact that I can now officially call myself a burglar. Desperate times.
“Are you coming?” I ask as I stick my leg into the opening. When inside, I sprint to the men’s clothing section, where I grab a pair of pants and a shirt that looks to be my general size. Next, I snatch up two packs of socks. Out of the corner of my eye I see movement across the store and spot Esperanza in the women’s department. The last thing I take before heading down the shoe aisle is a coat—a thick, heavy one that can withstand an extended stay in the elements. I can barely hold everything now and have to set it all down in order to find some boots. That done, I gather up my bounty and double-time it toward the exit.
Espy’s beaten me to the truck and, as I open the door and toss the clothing in, she’s already changing into jeans and a sweater. Before I get in, I look up and down the street but don’t see anything moving, nor do I hear the telltale sound of sirens converging on us. I shut the door and run back inside the store, and it takes me a minute to find the food section. There’s only so much I can carry so I settle for a case of bottled water, a loaf of bread, six cans of soup, and a can opener.
I return to the SUV, load these into the back, and take off, all but burning rubber on the cold asphalt. The gas pedal hurts my bare foot, and I’ve sliced the leg of my pajamas on the window glass. Espy, on the other hand, looks like a new person in her stolen outfit. She even managed to ensure that everything matches.
“How much do you think all this stuff is worth?” I ask.
“I don’t know but these boots were on sale. Marked down to two hundred.”
“What a bargain.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I guess I’d just like to get an idea of what degree of larceny they’ll charge us with when they catch us.”
CHAPTER 21
Calmly, without opening my eyes, I lift my hand from my knee and reach for whatever creature is burrowing between the seat and me, playing the odds that it’s not one of the poisonous variety. The problem is that, in Australia, the odds are against me. As my fingers close around the creature and wrest it from its comfy spot, I feel cool, dry skin, and I think lizard as a best-case scenario. Which is silly because some species of lizards here are almost as lethal as their legless cousins.
I bring my hand back up in front of me. It’s still dark in the truck and my eyelids, heavy with weariness, struggle to open. Two bulbous eyes, much more alert than I imagine mine appear, regard me