Chapter 6 - THE LONG NORTH ROAD
The Greyhound bus rolled through the grey, freezing dawn of upstate New York, its tires hissing against slush-covered highways. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and unwashed coats. Most of the passengers were slumped over in deep, exhausted sleep, their heads bobbing against the vibrating windows.
Rose sat awake, staring out at the desolate landscape of snow-dusted pine trees and frozen rivers. She had not slept a wink. Every time a car passed their bus in the opposite lane, her muscles tensed, expecting flashing police lights or black sedans forcing them off the road.
She reached into her coat pocket, pulling out the folded note from Marcus once more. She unfolded it, tracing the familiar handwriting with her thumb.
Mom, I’m sorry. I couldn’t say it in front of her. Please leave tonight. She doesn’t know I found out what she did to you.
She knew Marcus was trapped. If Clara realized he had betrayed her to protect his mother, Clara would destroy him legally, financially, and perhaps even physically. The Vance family’s reach extended deep into the state judiciary and law enforcement agencies. Marcus had committed high treason in the eyes of his wife, and the penalty in Clara’s world was total obliteration.
The bus driver’s voice crackled over the intercom, breaking through her thoughts. “Next stop, Syracuse transfer station. Twenty-minute layover for fuel and passenger exchange. All passengers must take their belongings if you are changing lines.”
Rose’s stomach tightened. Syracuse was a major transit hub. If Clara’s security team was tracking her digital footprint or bus ticket purchases—which they likely were, given the agent had taken her name and cash—the transit stations were the most dangerous places she could possibly go.
As the bus glided into the sprawling, dimly lit concrete terminal bay, Rose pulled her hood down lower, slung her canvas bag over her shoulder, and kept her face turned toward the floor as she shuffled down the narrow aisle with the other groggy passengers.
The terminal was vast, crowded with holiday travelers, rushing commuters, and slouching teenagers. Bright fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a harsh glare on the polished linoleum floor.
Rose kept moving, heading toward the back exit doors that led to the local city streets rather than staying inside the main passenger concourse where the security cameras were clustered thickest.
“Pardon me, ma’am.”
A deep, sharp voice cut through the ambient noise of the terminal.
May you like
Rose froze. Her foot hovered two inches above the linoleum.
She slowly turned her head. Standing five paces behind her were two men in dark trench coats, scanning the crowd with sharp, methodical precision. One of them was holding a small handheld device that was flashing a faint blue light, and his eyes suddenly locked directly onto hers.
