Chapter 4 - THE TICKET TO NOWHERE
The neon sign of the downtown bus terminal flickered through the rain like a tired beacon. The waiting room was sparse, smelling of stale coffee, floor wax, and damp wool. A handful of weary travelers sat scattered across plastic orange chairs, staring blankly at the floor or nodding off to the rhythmic hum of an overhead fluorescent tube.
Rose kept her head down, pulling her hood low as she walked up to the ticketing counter behind a heavy Plexiglass barrier.
“Next,” the bored ticket agent said, not looking up from his crossword puzzle.
“One ticket,” Rose said, her voice raspy from the cold air and the sprint through the alley. “Wherever the next bus is heading out of state.”
The agent finally looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly at her soaked coat and canvas bag. “Well, ma’am, the midnight express to Portland, Maine, is boarding at Gate 3 right now. That’s our last long-haul out tonight. You want a one-way?”
“Yes,” Rose said firmly, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out one of the crisp hundred-dollar bills Marcus had given her. “One-way to Portland.”
The agent blinked at the denomination, pocketed the cash, and punched keys on his terminal with sudden renewed interest. He slid a cardboard ticket and her change through the slot. “Gate 3. Mind you, it’s a thirty-hour ride with multiple transfers, and winter weather is kicking up north. Hope you’ve got family waiting for you.”
“I’m visiting ghosts,” Rose replied quietly, scooping up her change and her bag.
She hurried through the sliding glass doors toward Gate 3, where a massive, mud-splattered interstate bus idled with its diesel engine rumbling a low, heavy vibration. She handed her ticket to the driver, climbed the narrow metal steps, and slid into a window seat near the back of the nearly empty vehicle.
As the bus pulled away from the terminal, merging onto the dark, rain-slicked interstate heading north, Rose pressed her forehead against the cool glass. She watched the glittering lights of the city skyline fade into the rainy mist.
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She was seventy-two years old, running for her life with a bag full of stolen cash, fleeing from a daughter-in-law who controlled a multi-billion-dollar empire. Yet, for the first time in five years, she didn't feel defeated. She felt a cold, hard resolve settling deep into her bones.
Marcus had risked everything to save her. She was going to make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain.
