But then she lunges towards me, pushing me to the floor a second time. I wince as I hit the ground. The scent of unwashed bedsheets and grimy dust is enough to make me sputter. But my real worry lays in the fact that Veah is bleeding againis still injured.
She pulls me to my feet a second later, after the sound of the gunshot fades. I have no idea how she knows in the moment before they strike.
Is there another way out of here ? I ask.
She raises a single eyebrow. As though I should know better than to ask dumb questions. Yes, there is another way out of herebecause I never would have let us stay if there wasn’t.
Probably not an exact translation, but it works. She yanks me towards a door I hadn’t seen last night, and we stagger through a corridor of buzzing lights.
An old woman in a bathrobe opens her door as we pass and yells, People are trying to sleep over here !
A man with a scruffy gray beard throws his own door open a second later. People are trying to fuck !
The woman’s attention shoots to him, and he cowers back in his room.
Veah is relentless as we run, dragging me towards the back entrance. The parking lot is outside, and our gleaming, stolen car is waiting for us.
But when she pushes the door open, rain beginning to fall, she veers us towards another car. I should have guessed.
Slow down ! I say, breathless. I wasn’t built to be a runner. My curves are soft and lush, and they were not earned by competing in cross country.
Come on, she urges, as though she wasn’t shot twelve hours ago.
Sparks fly as she jams a pin through the door handle of an old convertible. The engine sputters to life, and I hear the sound of yelling in Japanesemen on the other side of the parking lot. They’ve spotted us.
Veah still manages to open the door for me, gesturing for me to crawl towards the passenger’s seat. As though she is a knight in shining armor.
Chivalrous, aren’t we ? I murmur as I climb through. She swings into the driver’s seat, and I remember to stop breathing as she slams down on the gas.
Hold on ! she says, and the car spins uncontrollably, skittering through the parking lot with a trail of smoke. The Yakuza men stumble back, and onea six-foot tall, impeccably dressed Asian manbegins to order the others to follow.
Veah presses the button for the top of the convertible to close. The men pull out their guns.
A little faster, I say through my teeth.
The tallest Yakuza manthe bosssays something that makes my blood chill, although I don’t understand what it means.
The other men pale.
Hey, Veah ? I ask, as the convertible top slowly slides over ustoo slow.
She looks at me, and she seems unfazeduntil I see the slight twice in her jaw. Telling me that whatever he said, it was bad.
Gunshots ping against the side of the convertible door. Veah drives us straight into a tree.
Maybe next time, I should drive, I suggest. And then curse myself, because what am I thinking ? There can’t be a next time.
Veah only grins, until I ask, What did that man say ? The tall, scary one ?
Her jaw hardens. We pull out of the motel’s parking lot and into the morning air. The rain is falling harder now, and I feel the last of its kiss as the convertible top closes over us. Shielding us from the bullets that slam against the metal.
He said She slams the brakes before we hit a car. And then speeds forward again. My head spins. Oh, nothing much.
What did he say ? I say, teeth clenched.
Her eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. Dark and headyan intoxicating stare that makes me lose focus of the road and the rain and the Mafia behind us. Until she finishes, He says he no longer has orders to kill us.
I want to cheer, but the way she says it makes it sound like a death sentence. So I swallow, dread building in my throat, and ask slowly, Why is that a bad thing ?
Because he has orders to bring us back to Tokyo.
Tokyo, I repeat, hours later. What the hell do we do now ?
We are parked on the side of a long desert stretch, the road ahead lined with red dunes. Where are we ? Probably somewhere in the outskirts of California.
It strikes me, then, that I said we.
Veah gives me a coolly raised eyebrow.
I have classes, and lectures, and I bury my face in my hands. Sitting on the hood of the convertible, Veah leaning up against the side, the realization hits me.
Just yesterday, it was Halloween. And nowand now
Now I’ve been handcuffed to someone from the Yakuza. We’ve been shot at, chased, and you know what’s even better ? They have orders to bring us back to Tokyo.
The iron links rattle between us.
I still can’t even remember how, or when, or why I handcuffed myself to a stranger.
My sister, I say. I have to
Cassie ?
My eyes snap to her. My words come out as more of a squeak. How do you know that ?
Her face betrays nothing, but I swear I see the faintest touch of pink. I heard you in your sleep.
This dangerous, terrifying Yakuza assassin, hesitant to admit she heard me talking in my sleep ?
I want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.