Page 84 of Ride Hard
When we were done, we went downstairs and waited by the outer door of our own car. My skin prickled in anticipation as the train rolled into thestation.
“How do we do this?” I asked, staring fretfully at theplatform.
“Put your head down and walk,” Chaser replied. “Act natural and don’tpanic.”
“Sounds easy when you say it likethat.”
“Follow my lead, and we’ll slip right out ofhere.”
I hoped he wasright.
The train finally came to a stop, the brakes screeching. The moment the doors disengaged, I forced it open, and we stepped out onto theplatform.
Chaser winced as he put weight on his injured leg, but he never made a sound. Whatever he’d wrapped his thigh up in was working a treat. So far, only a spot of blood had bled through his jeans. Nothing that would drawattention.
Putting my head down, I linked my arm through Chaser’s, and we walked down the platform with the other disembarking passengers. I started as a group of uniformed men from the train ran toward us, but they passed us by without even lookingtwice.
“Keep walking,” Chaser murmured as a commotion broke out behindus.
Swallowing hard, I resisted the urge to look back. People around us were already stopping to see what all the fuss was about, but we keptgoing.
We turned into the main building, passing noticeboards and waiting areas. Our footsteps were muffled by the commotion of passengers coming and going. Loved ones embraced, taxi drivers loaded luggage into the trunks of their cars, people rolled suitcases toward a bus stop, and we melted into thescenery.
Exiting the building, we walked down the street, disappearing into the wilds of the little town of Winslow,Arizona.
No one called out or chased usdown.
No one tried to stopus.
No one atall.
