Read Online AfterAge by Yvonne Navarro - Free Book Online

followed until predictably they ended up in Daley Plaza. She sat gratefully on one of a group of granite benches surrounding a tree, her eyes following the spindly branches and noting the buds that were appearing at last. Off to the right were a couple of matching granite trash containers with still-legible blue-and-white signs bearing a circle of stenciled arrows and the legend CHICAGO RECYCLES. Will it? she wondered. Will mankind recycle? Two years ago there'd been hundreds of pigeons in the plaza and the benches had been mounded with bird droppings. Today not a single bird strutted at her feet.
    Somewhere beyond the steel-and-glass buildings the sun moved toward the horizon, draining the day of light and safety. More than in the slowly spreading shadows she could see the coming sunset in the tenseness of Alex's shoulders and the way his eyes flicked along the streets, testing each dimming doorway like the fleeting movement of a snake's tongue tasting the air. Closer to home he became a little more relaxed; behind the mask of tinted windows a bed or sleeping bag waited, offering safety and warmth during the coming night.
    "It's getting late," he finally said.
    "Yes." Deb stood, thinking of her own safe place and her shotgun—the cold steel of protection. "I have to go."
    "Stay with me tonight," he said suddenly. She looked at him wordlessly and he reddened, like a kid caught doing something dirty. "Not like that," he added hastily. "Just . . . so there can be two of us, you know? I can't remember the last time there was two ."
    Unfortunately, Deb could. Still, it was a tempting invitation that offered many things, perhaps even intimacy, but the memory of the Winchester's thunder across the nothingness of Morton Lecture Hall during the night remained a bloody mark in her mind. "No," she said at last, avoiding his eyes. Alex's scrubby face drooped with disappointment. "I'm sorry. You know the old line: I'm just not ready for that yet." She risked meeting his gaze, then regretted it when she saw the loneliness reflected there.
    "I don't suppose you'd let me walk you home?" he asked hoarsely.
    Deb shook her head. "It's too late to be safe. But I'll meet you somewhere tomorrow. How's that?"
    "Yeah?" Alex brightened. "That'd be great. Where? When?"
    He's so innocent , she thought. Either I'm being utterly duped or this man's never been burned in his life . She opened her mouth to ask where in the building he stayed, then decided against it. He'd tell her without a second thought, and God forbid something should happen to her tonight. Then this silly, trusting man would probably be her first victim.
    "Field's," she finally decided. "The doorway where you caught me. Or I caught you." She grinned.
    "First thing in the morning?" he asked.
    "Right after sunup," she promised. Deb turned away, then paused. "Don't follow me, Alex," she said softly.
    He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded mutely. She wasn't ready to trust, and as she headed south along Dearborn, she glanced back every quarter block to make sure Alex was still at his corner. Three blocks away she veered east, knowing that even if he tried he could never catch her now. She'd planned on sprinting the next few blocks, but she felt fairly comfortable with Alex's honesty and she relaxed her stride; she supposed she could trust a little . Her booted steps echoed through the streets but she made no effort to be quiet; within fifteen minutes she was at the Institute and unlocking the door, then quickly going through her evening scrutiny. Normally she dreaded night—too much time lying motionless in the blackness, waiting out the hours until dawn. Tonight, though, she felt exhausted, not merely from over-exercise but from the excitement of meeting another human being. Anxiety tried to twist into her stomach and she mentally shoved it away; Alex was self-sufficient and had survived this long without a hitch; there was no reason to doubt he'd be waiting at Field's in the