"Get up, Jonesy, now." Someone poked Kit hard in the side, but he batted their hand away and rolled away. "Get up!" They slapped him hard in the face.

Kit jolted upright, his hand going to the gun tucked under the pillow as the room came into focus. Darkness settled itself across the room. Adam looked at him with a small furrow of his eyebrows and a stack of papers in his hand.

"What the hell! I was asleep," Kit said.

"You need to get out of here. They're searching the houses of anyone they think knows you 'cause someone saw the damn motorcar." He shook his head, tugging on his bottom lip. "I managed to get the paperwork, but you've got to leave."

Kit nodded, swinging his legs off the bed. He turned to look at Emily, who slept soundly beside him, despite Adam talking in a less-than-quiet voice. She looked so peaceful, and he didn't want to disrupt her, but they needed to leave. Quickly. Kit tucked the gun into the waistband of his trousers and lightly shook her arm.

"Emily, wake up," he said, still shaking her arm.

"What's going on?" She stifled a yawn, opening her eyes and rubbing them with the backs of her knuckles. "It's still dark."

"We need to get out of here. The police are looking for us."

Emily blinked at her, her eyes slowly coming into focus in the darkness. She looked at Adam, who stood by the door with the paperwork still in his hand and his eyes aimed at the still-curtained window behind them. Emily swung her legs off the bed, standing up, and pulling her cap low over her eyes.

"This should get you to America. There's the money I owe you there too, so don't lose it," Adam said. He handed Kit the paperwork and Kit didn't stop to look at it. He just trusted Adam's word. "Good luck."

"Thank you, Adam. Sorry for all the grief."

"Don't worry 'bout it. Get yourselves out of here. I can handle whatever the police throw at me."

"Thank you, Adam," Emily said. "For everything."

Adam nodded and stepped out of the way, giving them access to the food. With the gun safely stowed away in his waistband, Kit offered his hand out to Emily and the two of them left the room. The entire house was cloaked in darkness to the point that even the darkest of corners were pitch black.

Kit was wide awake despite having been asleep only minutes before. He kept his hand tightly grasped in Emily's when they stepped out of the house and approached the motorcar. They tugged the white sheet off the motorcar and climbed in. The roar of the engine echoed through the near-silent night, and Kit worried that anyone nearby would see them.

He couldn't think about that, though. If the police were coming after them, they needed to get out of the city as quickly as they could and towards the nearest port. Kit pulled the motorcar away from the curb, pressing on the accelerator.

"You hold this." He handed Emily the gun. "Hopefully we won't need to use it."

"How did Adam even know they were coming?"

"Keep his ears to the ground. He hears everything long before anyone else does. With any luck, he's given us enough time to get away."

"I hope so." She twisted the gun over in her hands.

Kit focused on the road ahead of them, occasionally glancing in the mirrors to make sure they weren't being followed. His body remained tense. Emily played with the gun, her leg bouncing up and down. Neither of them could relax; their bodies wound up like grandfather clocks.

All they had to do was make it to the coast. If they could make it to the coast, and if the paperwork Adam prepared worked, they'd be out of the country on their way to a brand new life. Kit wasn't a praying man, but he uttered a small prayer that they would get on their way without being disturbed. They could do with some luck for a change.

There were fewer motorcars on the roads that early in the morning and every motorcar he heard set Kit on edge. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, listening to the echoing sound of his heartbeat in his ears. A tense silence settled over the two of them.

"Kit," Emily said. She peered out the window, her hand resting on the trigger of the gun. "There's a motorcar following us."

"How long for?"

"Just a few minutes."

"Alright, let's see if we can shake it."

Kit spun the wheel and took a small side road, glancing behind him to see if the motorcar was following them. The motorcar took the same route he did, but didn't get any closer. It drove at a distance so as not to draw attention to the fact they were there, but they took every turn Kit did. He knew it was less than a coincidence that they were taking all the smaller back roads, but couldn't think of a way to shake them off.

They followed close enough to know where Kit was heading, but too far back for Kit to know who was driving the motorcar and whether it was the police or Mr Masters. He looked at Emily, who kept her eyes focused on the car behind them. If it was Mr Masters, would she be able to pull the trigger if they needed to?

He pressed his foot down on the accelerator, hoping he could beat them out of pure speed alone. Even in the dark, he knew the person following them was driving a Ford and the Royce could outstrip them on pace alone. They had to get to the port, they just had to. The port would be a safer place for them, a place where they could abandon the car and disappear into the crowds of people waiting for a boat.

The motorcar stayed on their tail despite the speed. They followed them down each side road, kept within a decent distance, and Kit struggled to shake them off no matter how hard he tried. He glanced behind him, noticing the motorcar growing that little bit closer. In the rising sunlight, he could just make out the silhouettes of two people in the front seat.

"They're not leaving," Emily said. She turned in her seat, holding the gun up.

"I know, but we can lose them. I just need—"

A dull pain spread through Kit's left shoulder. Something warm and sticky trickled down his back. Kit turned, tugging on his jacket to see a singed hole in the fabric and blood pouring from his back.

~~~

First Published - February 14th, 2024