"Thanks," I murmured, pouring myself a cup.
I checked the security feeds while I drank. Alex was at the monitors, her face illuminated by the blue glow of the screens.
"Nothing overnight," she said without looking up. "The fire made the news. They're reporting that I am presumed dead."
"But?"
Alex finally turned to me, her eyes serious. "Lorenzo isn't stupid. I've got a feeling he knows better."
"Agreed." I drained my coffee. "We need to move."
"The further west we get, the safer we'll be," Alex said.
I nodded. "Let me grab a shower first."
The hot water helped clear my head. By 9:15, I was dressed and ready. Ellie and Sabine were still asleep, but we couldn't wait any longer.
"Sorry about the noise," I said to Alex as I powered up the degausser.
The machine emitted a high-pitched whine that made my teeth hurt. I placed the first hard drive on the plate and activated it. THUNK. The magnetic field destroyed every bit of data from the first safehouse cameras.
I heard stirring from the bedroom but kept working. One by one, I fed the drives into the machine. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
With each one, I felt a small surge of satisfaction. No evidence. No trail. Nothing to lead back to us or to Sabine.
By the time I finished with the last drive, Sabine was standing in the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"Time to go?" she asked.
"Time to go," I confirmed.
By the time I finished, everyone was ready. Ellie had her locs pulled back in a loose bun, dressed like a soccer mom in jeans and a University of Kentucky sweatshirt, sipping coffee while checking her sidearm. Sabine sat on the edge of the bed, the grey kitten in her lap, one hand wrapped around a steaming mug.
I headed downstairs to the bay where Alex and Cam were loading our gear into the vehicles I'd arranged months ago. The dark green Ford pickup gleamed under the fluorescent lights, its extended cab and mounted steel toolbox perfect for our needs. Beside it sat the steel blue Sprinter van I'd chosen specifically for its anonymity—complete with a stick figure family decal on the rear windowand a map of the United States on the quarter panel with various southern and midwestern states colored in. Just another family on a cross-country trip.
"West Virginia plates?" Alex asked, running her hand along the pickup's fender.
I nodded. "Registered to shell companies three states away from here. Untraceable."
Cam worked silently, methodically arranging weapons in hidden compartments I'd built into both vehicles. Her efficiency always impressed me. No wasted movements, no unnecessary words.
"How long have you been planning this?" Alex asked quietly.
"Since you first told me you were thinking about reaching out to Sabine about your family," I admitted. "I always have contingencies."
We finished loading the essentials: medical supplies, emergency cash, burner phones, clothes, food. The cats were last—their carrier slid into the back row of the sprinter van.
When we returned upstairs, Sabine stood by the window, the small gray kitten cradled against her chest. Her fingers stroked its fur rhythmically, but her eyes were distant, worried.
"Where are we going?" she asked, turning to me. The kitten purred against her, oblivious to our tension.
I crossed the room and placed my hand on her shoulder. "Somewhere safe," I promised. "Somewhere they'll never find us."
Her eyes searched mine, looking for reassurance I wasn't sure I could honestly give. But I held her gaze anyway, steady and certain. Because that's what she needed from me right now.
I checked my watch. Ten minutes to ten. Ellie guided Sabine up the step with one hand at the small of her back and handed her a blanket from the cargo hold. The grey kitten mewed as Ellie tucked her into the carrier with his mother and siblings. I climbed into the driver’s seat of the sprinter van. Ellie slid into the passenger seat beside me, adjusting her holster beneath her sweatshirt.
Cam already occupied the driver's seat of the pickup, her fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the steering wheel. Alex sat shotgun, her laptop balanced on her knees. She'd barely spoken all morning.
