Dreamland

She had almost forgotten that Co

Except for my uncle, he’d said. He’s all right. Briggs had been living in Chicago when Co

She thought of her mother, and all the midnight ru

Co

Then she spotted it: at the very edge of the lot, a ruined sculpture of metal, broken lines of steel and singed rubber. Her heart caught in her throat. Co

“There it is.” Her voice, amazingly, was steady. She stubbed a finger into the glass, even though Co

“Did you hear me, Dea? I said there’s no way in. They have guards posted for a reason.”

The lot was fenced on three sides and backed up on the station: a long, low building, jointed in several places where it had undergone expansion, so the effect was of a lumpy gray caterpillar tacked to earth. On the far side of the lot, next to the Dumpsters, three cops were standing, smoking, in the narrow wedge of light carved out by a propped-open service door. She saw the flare of cigarettes, like the distant glow of fireflies.

“Through the station,” Dea said. Co

His eyes went to hers in the rearview mirror. “What?”

She looked away. She didn’t like the mirror, and didn’t like thinking of what she had last seen reflected in it. “There’s a way into the lot through the station. I saw cops on smoke break.” He said nothing. “You could get in. You could ask to see your uncle.”

“Even if he hasn’t heard you pulled a disappearing act by now,” Co

“Make up a story. Tell him you were with Gollum and got a weird message from me. Tell him you went to the hospital and I wasn’t there. Or don’t tell him anything. All you need to do is get in. Find a back door. Grab the money and get out. I would do it myself, if I could.”

Co

“In the passenger seat,” she said. “There’s a hole under the seat cushion, and a stocking inside of it. It should be there. It was the last time I checked, anyway.”

Dea once again stretched out on the backseat, as Co

Co

“Stay here.” Co

“Okay,” she whispered back. She was seized by a momentary terror—she didn’t want him to go and leave her alone in the dark. But it was the only way.

He was gone.

Her legs soon began to cramp, but she was afraid to move. There seemed to be a constant flow in and out of the station, a rhythm of voices and doors and conversations abruptly interrupted or swallowed by distance. She tried to picture where Co

Or maybe—the idea came to her so starkly, in a flash, she went breathless—maybe he would sell her out. He might regret helping her.

She dismissed the idea as soon as it came to her, but the worry stayed with her. Her breath crystallized and dispersed, but sweat moved down her spine and pooled under her arms. She fantasized briefly about showers, ru

She imagined she might wake up and find this had all been a dream.

No. A nightmare.

More minutes passed. She was sick with hunger, anxiety, and exhaustion. It felt like she had left the hospital days ago, though it had only been a matter of hours. She couldn’t remember whether she’d eaten any lunch. Her right foot was falling asleep. She tried to adjust her position, and caught a textbook with her elbow, wincing as it thunked to the floor, and several papers, water-warped and ringed with coffee marks, fluttered bird-like after it. But no one heard; no one came. Her thighs were shaking now. She eased backward, shifting her weight off her legs, so she could sit down.

Where the hell was Co

There was another volley of voices outside, a rapid-fire back-and-forth she couldn’t understand, and then suddenly the driver’s side door opened.

It was Co

“Did you . . . .?” she whispered.

“Shhh,” he said. He turned on the engine. Then: “Yes.” A second later, an envelope thudded at her feet. She pulled it into her lap. All there. Two thousand dollars, maybe a little more.