“It’s bad enough leaving Steiner’s car here,” Harmony muttered, brow furrowed as she took her wallet and phone out of her purse before shoving it under the seat. Peri couldn’t help but notice there were three missed calls, all of them from Steiner. “Hand me up the duffel, will you?”
“Sure,” Peri said, reaching into the back for it.
Harmony unzipped it, making a small sound of satisfaction as she took out her Glock and tucked it into her shoulder holster under her open coat. “What do you think?” she asked. “Big enough to be seen and envied, but not so much that it looks as if I’m looking for a fight?”
“I’ll stick with my knife if you don’t mind.” It was doubtful the car would be entirely intact when they returned, so Peri stuffed her pockets and belt pack with everything she wanted to keep. Her diary was going to be a problem, new pages leaking out every time she opened it.
“I do,” Harmony insisted. “Be a woman. Take the Glock. That’s why I brought it.”
Nodding, Peri took the semiautomatic pistol with a quick-change ammo clip. “Guns aren’t my go-to,” she said as she zipped it into her belt pack, snuggling it at the small of her back. “They have a tendency to kill me, and then I have to draft and fix it,” she added, smoothing her journal out before dropping it into her coat pocket. It was lumpy, but leaving it in the car wasn’t an option.
Harmony tucked a second ammo clip behind her shirt, shuddering when the cold hit her. “I’d do anything for a reset button. So I’d forget. Some things, I don’t want to remember.”
Mulling that over, Peri shifted her belt pack until the extra weight felt natural. “You sure you want to do this with me?”
“The arena?” Harmony opened her door, the cold night slipping in as she got out. “Two women? After dark?” Looking at the abandoned buildings, she adjusted her holster to make sure it was visible past her coat. “Bring it on.”
Peri’s faint smile grew as the unusual feeling of kinship drifted through her. Stretching the stiff hours from her, Peri got out as well, carefully shutting her door so the sound wouldn’t carry. The cold woke her up fast. Two inches of new snow crunched underfoot, but it would likely be gone by noon.
Peri fell into place beside Harmony, thinking they should’ve left the car unlocked so the thieves wouldn’t have to break a window to get in. “You don’t have another set of keys, do you?” she asked as they cut across the parking lot, their path obvious in the snow.
“No. Why?”
They slowed as they hit the shadows, waiting for their eyes to adjust. “I, ah, usually have a set,” she said, sorry now she’d brought it up. “Never mind.”
“No, I should have thought of it,” Harmony said. “Sorry. You want to carry them?”
“Good God, no,” Peri rushed, glad the darkness hid her face. Their twined voices echoed off the empty shop fronts, reminding her of the women in Africa who walk unafraid through lion-infested brush, talking loudly to warn the huge carnivores away. It worked only because the cats had been conditioned to be afraid. Here, though, she thought as they passed the broken windows, the lions aren’t afraid.
“You’ve done something like this before,” Peri said, making it more of a statement.
“Something like it.”
Her voice had become distant. Clearly Harmony didn’t want to talk about it. But the sound of their boots in the unplowed street was giving Peri the creeps. She kept scanning the rooftops for silhouettes, but nothing broke the cold sterility except solar arrays and outdated satellite dishes. “That was impressive how you got us out of the St. Louis facility. But why spend that much effort on being stealthy when you’re so good at offense?”
Harmony’s teeth caught the light as she smiled. “The best offense is not being there to take the hit.” Her smile faded. “And I don’t have a golden parachute to get me around one.”
The woman’s annoyance was obvious, and Peri frowned. “Why are you mad at me about that? It would be like me being angry because you’re black and can dance better than me.”
“Excuse me?” Harmony blurted.
“Sorry,” Peri said immediately. “That was supposed to be funny.”
Mollified, Harmony resumed her pace. “I can, you know,” Harmony said softly.
“Can what?”
“Dance better than you.”
Peri smiled, her feeling of kinship growing, but she jerked when a sharp clang echoed. The sound stiffened her spine, but neither woman altered her pace. It had been a signal, a warning, and they kept moving forward—ignoring it.
“You should have brought bigger guns,” Peri whispered as she unzipped her belt pack.
“You think?” Harmony frowned. “We can’t sit and wait. If Michael isn’t at the mall, we keep walking. Okay?”
“No problem.” Peri slipped the Glock into her coat pocket. Her phone was cold against her fingertips and she took it out, quickly turning the glow down when it threatened to ruin her night vision. Scrolling to Allen’s number, she hit send. The connection went through, and faint in the nearby distance, a phone began to ring. They weren’t anywhere near the mall. Son of a bitch.
Exhaling, Harmony stopped right in the middle of the street. “I don’t think that’s necessarily a good thing.”
“Allen?” Peri called loudly, ending the call and tucking the phone away.