“Have you got any other wires on you?” Connor shook the girl.
No answer.
“Do you have any other wires?”
Gertie stared at him wide-eyed and whimpered a little.
“Answer. Quickly. I don’t have a problem strip-searching you, but if you don’t answer soon, that police patrol will be back here and blow both of our brains out.”
“The Drop will protect me. You’ll go to hell.” Gertie’s eyes were full of tears, but she held firm.
“Close enough.” He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her down a side street, as the sound of confused shouting and badly-maintained vehicles came from the direction of the police patrol.
Gertie resisted, tried to break free of his grasp, but Connor held firm.
“You’re coming with me. I’ve had enough of this shit.” Connor gritted his teeth.
“No!” Gertie yelled. Screamed. “Justin! Save me!”
Connor carried on. Just a block to go, get on the bike, take this crazy to Lanseria. Stow aboard. Get out of this toilet the city had become.
“Shut up!” Connor dragged the girl down an alley and across the next street.
“You can’t take me to that plane,” Gertie pleaded. “They’ll kill me.”
“You’re going to get us both killed if you don’t be quiet.”
Gertie tried to escape. Connor’s grip was too tight. She pulled away but there was no way Connor was letting her go.
“Yes!” The alley where he had stowed the bike. The police would be searching house to house down 4th Avenue. Connor congratulated himself for leaving the bike off 5th.
There was no light in the alley, except for the quarter moon above. Perfect. Darkness was the friend of the escapee.
They went around the burnt-out car.
“What? Where the fuck is my bike?”
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