Chapter 13
THEY RAN FOR THE GATES, their footsteps thudding on the baking concrete.
With every step, pain burst through Remus's arm; blood was streaming down it in ribbons.
He gritted his teeth and shoved the pain aside.
He was not going to slow them down.
A dusty black 4x4 truck sat parked outside the gate beside the Chevy; in the back through its tinted windows, Remus could just make out stacks of boxes.
Sirius helped him climb up onto the passenger’s side, his hand strong under Remus's good arm.
Sirius grabbed their things from the Chevy, then flung them in the back and jumped into the driver’s seat.
A second later, they were roaring off, bouncing and jolting over the rough earth as clouds of dust swirled up behind them.
Remus's arm was so bloody now that he could barely see the skin.
Closing his eyes, he slumped back in the seat, feeling like he might pass out.
A few minutes later, the truck stopped.
His eyes flew open — and then widened as Sirius yanked his white T-shirt over his head.
“Give me your arm,” he said.
He took out his pocketknife, started a tear in the shirt, then ripped it in half and folded the material into a long strip.
Shakily, Remus held his arm out. “What are you doing? Sirius, we don’t have time —”
“We’ve got to stop the bleeding,” he said. “As soon as we’re safely away somewhere, I’ll dig out my first-aid kit.”
Bending over Remus, Sirius started wrapping the makeshift bandage around his arm.
Sirius's head was bowed, his dark hair tousled.
Remus's pulse pounded as he stared down at Sirius.
Even through the pain, Remus had to resist the urge to stroke his fingers through Sirius's hair or touch the smoothness of his bare shoulder.
His hands as he worked were deft and sure, but so gentle — he was being careful not to hurt Remus any more than he had to.
Remus sat very still, hardly daring to move.
Remus was in love with him.
The knowledge swept through Remus, truer than anything he'd ever known.
Oh, my God, he was in love with Sirius.
And even though they were friends now, Sirius had never said that what Remus was didn’t matter.
How could it not matter to him? He’d been trained to kill angels since he was five years old.
Sirius tucked the end of the shirt in, securing it. The AK on his bicep flexed slightly. “There,” he said.
Remus glanced down at his arm, hiding his face. “Thank you,” he said as he touched the soft white cloth.
It had the same energy that Sirius's T-shirt in the motel room had, that same comforting sense of coming home.
Remus could feel Sirius's blue-gray eyes on him; he thought Sirius was going to say something, but he didn’t.
Then he started up the truck, and in seconds they were racing through the desert again.
After creeping along in the Chevy, the truck was like flying.
They came to the dried-out riverbed and rocked across to the other side.
Finally they were swinging onto a dirt road, heading north.
Put it aside, Remus ordered himself harshly.
Yes, he was in love with Sirius. He had been for days, he realized — that moment on the side of the road when he'd wanted to hold Sirius, and last night, when just feeling his fingers in Remus's hair, his closeness, had made Remus want to faint.
But it didn’t change anything.
He didn’t feel the same way; he couldn’t.
Remus took a deep breath. “So — what do we do now?” He asked.
The muscles of Sirius's bare arm moved as he shifted gears. “I don’t know,” he said. “If it’s true that the rest of the AKs are gone, then —” He broke off, shaking his head. “Christ, I really don’t know.”
They drove in silence for a while.
Finally, twisting in his seat to peer over his shoulder, Sirius reached behind him and pulled out a bottle of water from a cardboard case.
He unscrewed the top and took a deep, thirsty swig.
As Sirius offered the bottle to Remus, Remus started to reach for it — but something caught the corner of his eye, and he turned to look behind them.
In the distance, five angels were heading toward them, flying in a starburst formation.
“Sirius,” he said in a low voice.
He knew immediately. “How many?” he asked, glancing sharply at Remus.
“Five.”
Remus couldn’t take his eyes off them.
Even as he watched, they were drawing closer.
They shone against the blue sky with a bright, burning white light, their celestial wings stroking the air.
Even knowing what they were, what they did to people . . . he'd still never seen anything so heart achingly beautiful in his life.
Remus cried out as the truck jolted.
There was a squeal of brakes as Sirius pulled off the road, bringing the 4x4 to a sudden sideways stop.
“What are you doing?” Remus cried.
“We can’t outrun them,” he said. “And I can’t fight them from a moving truck.”
He grabbed Peter's rifle from the back; checked it for ammunition.
As he jumped out of the truck and ran around to Remus's side, Remus was already climbing down.
Behind them, the angels were growing larger and larger in the sky.
Pressing against the side of the truck, Sirius sank to his heels.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he centered himself.
Remus felt his energy shifting, changing.
Opening his eyes again, he took up a position behind the hood, sighting along the rifle’s barrel.
“Yep, five of them, all right,” he murmured.
Remus could tell that Sirius had handled a rifle since he was a child; he held it as though it were a part of him.
Without taking his eyes off the approaching angels, Sirius pressed the car keys into Remus's hand, squeezing it briefly.
“So, Remus, just — keep down, OK? With any luck, your angel will make an appearance again and protect you.”
Remus stared at him. “But what about you?”
He shook his head impatiently. “Don’t worry about me. If anything happens, take the truck and get away from here.”
Remus's heart started thudding.
“I thought you said we can’t outrun them,” he said faintly.
The angels were very close now, only a couple of hundred yards away.
“I can’t; they’d catch up with me and tear my life energy away. You might have a chance, though, if your angel’s there.” Sirius was crouched over the rifle, his body poised.
He shot Remus a glance, and Remus saw the worry in his eyes, the concern for Remus. “I’m serious, Remus. If it’s looking bad, just get away from here.”
I’m not leaving you, Remus thought. There is no way that I’m leaving you.
Remus gripped the keys hard; they dug into his palm.
He started as Sirius shot, the echo booming across the desert like thunder.
In the air, one of the angels vanished into falling petals of light.
Remus huddled tightly against the truck.
They were almost near enough now to see their faces; he could hear screams of rage, see the flurry of shining wings.
Sirius shot again and missed as one of the angels darted to the side; tracking it, he got it as it moved.
It burst into pieces, confetti on fire with the sun.
Suddenly the remaining three angels were on them, their wings filling the sky.
Sirius started to fire again, and then ducked as one of them surged forward and swooped at him, trying to cuff him with its wing; the others were just behind.
Fear pummeled Remus as he realized that Sirius could never fight this many up close.
They were going to kill him.
All at once there was a shifting, a stirring.
Remus felt himself growing taller, and then he was in the air, hovering over his human body as it crouched on the dry, scrubby ground below.
Remus had an angel’s body, pure white, brilliant in the sun.
There was no fear, only determination.
They were not going to kill him, and they were not going to kill Sirius.
The two other angels attacked in a frenzy, going for his vulnerable human aura below.
One dove straight for it, swiping with its wing.
The desert turned on its side and rose up to meet Remus as he whipped smoothly in front of the angel, their wings glinting like sunlit mirrors.
The blow deflected harmlessly; the angel gave a hiss of frustration.
“Get away, half-human thing.”
Remus didn’t answer; he was already speeding away to block the other one, cutting sharply in the air and back again, wings flashing, faster than light.
Only seconds had passed.
Sirius fired again; the angel that had been on him exploded into fragments of light.
Screeching in fury, the remaining two dove at him in a spiraling chaos of wings and radiance.
Remus saw his jaw tense as he realized there was no way he could get them both; one of them was going to kill him.
The low mountains on the horizon shifted sideways, straightening again as Remus darted above Sirius, spreading his wings.
Sirius's eyes widened as he saw Remus; Remus saw him lower his rifle slightly, staring upward.
The two angels banked in opposite directions; the world turned this way and that as he swooped through the air above Sirius, blocking them, keeping Sirius safe with his wings.
With a howl of anger, one of the angels veered back toward Remus's human figure.
Sirius started to shoot; the other one, momentarily getting away from Remus, dove right at him.
He looked up, startled, then hit the ground and rolled as its wings strained for him.
It was on him; it was going to get him.
Remus didn’t hesitate.
He dove in, forcing the angel back with his wings.
He didn't know how he knew how to fight, but he did, and the angel screeched in fury, flapping and snarling at him.
Dimly, Remus was aware that his human form was vulnerable, that the other angel was almost on it.
He didn’t care.
This angel was not going to hurt Sirius.
A shot sounded as Sirius fired.
Light erupted around them like fireworks as the angel attacking Remus's human form vanished.
The final angel howled in rage.
It beat at Remus with its wings, trying to push him aside; then suddenly twisted backward, spiraling toward Sirius, wings shrieking through the air.
The desert turned as Remus dove to protect him again, but he rolled and shot from the ground — and the fifth angel’s halo buckled and trembled.
A second later it was gone.
The sudden stillness was like a clear mountain pool.
Remus hovered, gently moving his wings as shock and relief coursed through him.
They were still alive.
Somehow they were both all right.
Remus saw Sirius stagger to his feet and look up at Remus, his expression dazed — and then Remus drifted downward, merging with his human body on the ground.
He was himself again.
Sirius came over to Remus; dropped to his knees.
He was breathing hard, his torso streaked with grime and sweat.
They stared at each other.
Remus had been trying so hard to not really think about it, but now he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Remus started shaking as the reality of his otherness roared through him.
This hadn’t been a brief flash or something that might have been a dream — it was utterly, achingly real.
Remus wasn’t completely human.
The words tore out of him. “Oh, God, I don’t want this. I don’t want it —”
All at once Remus was clutching his forehead, crying; great sobs racked helplessly through him, shaking him like a terrier shakes a rat.
“Remus! Remus, don’t — please don’t —” Then Sirius's arms were wrapped tightly around him; he was holding Remus, rocking him.
Remus slumped against his chest, crying as if he would never stop. “It’s OK,” Sirius whispered, his voice ragged.
He cradled Remus to him, dropped his head onto Remus's so that Remus felt Sirius's lips moving in his hair. “It’s OK.”
Remus cried for a long time, wetting Sirius's skin with his tears, so that Sirius's chest turned warm and slick under his cheek.
Slowly, Remus became aware of the strength of his arms; the faint smell of his sweat.
His heart, beating firmly against Remus.
Remus sat up, pulling away.
He could hardly look at Sirius. “How can you bear to touch me?” Remus wiped his eyes with his hand. “When you know I have this thing inside of me that’s like them?”
“No!” Sirius's voice was fierce.
His hands clenched Remus by the shoulders as he forced Remus to look at him.
“Remus, listen to me. You are nothing like them. Nothing.”
Remus swallowed hard, wanting so much to believe him.
Hugging his elbows, Remus stared at the hard, bare mountains on the blue horizon, remembering how they had shifted as he flew.
“It’s never going to go away, is it?” Remus whispered.
Sirius shook his head slowly. “No,” he said. His eyes were full of compassion.
Glancing down, Remus ran a finger across the scrabbly soil; it felt dry and gritty to his touch.
Around them, the desert seemed to stretch out forever, the sun beating down on them like an oven.
“Yeah,” Remus said finally. “I sort of knew that.”
He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out.”
“Don’t apologize.” Sirius helped Remus up, his hand remaining briefly on Remus's arm. “Are you all right?”
Remus nodded, not really looking at him. “I’m fine.”
But as he remembered what had happened, heat swept his cheeks.
His angel had protected Sirius, his love as obvious as if he'd blurted it out.
Sirius blew out a breath. “OK, well — we’d better get away from here. Try to figure out what we’re going to do.”
They climbed back into the truck; Remus's legs felt strange and wobbly.
And belatedly, his arm was hurting again, throbbing dully under Sirius's T-shirt.
Sirius spun the steering wheel, and they lurched onto the dirt road.
As they sped through the desert again, Remus leaned back against his seat, closing his eyes . . . and tried not to remember the sensation of having wings that glittered in the sunlight.
They came to a rest stop about an hour after they got back onto the state highway — a brown-painted building with vending machines on its porch and a few empty picnic tables scattered about.
Sirius pulled over behind the building, out of sight from the road.
In the men’s room, Remus swapped his T-shirt for a fresh one and stood at the sink, splashing water on his face.
Some of it got on his hurt arm, turning streaks of dried blood a pale, runny red.
The mirror was one of those metallic ones that you can hardly see yourself in, but Remus could see enough to realize that he looked like something out of a horror film, the way his hurt arm had red snaking down it.
Remus smiled faintly as he imagined Mary: Oh, my God, it’s Remus Meets the Zombies! Somebody get Steven Spielberg on the phone!
Then his smile faded.
What would she say if she knew the truth about what Remus was?
Trying not to think about it, he wiped the blood off with a moistened paper towel, working around the square of Sirius's T-shirt.
Then he dug his hairbrush out of his bag and combed his hair back.
“Hey,” said Sirius's voice.
Remus glanced up; he was standing in the doorway holding a small first-aid kit.
“Can I come in? We should probably get your arm fixed up.”
Remus could hardly meet his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
He had pulled on a blue T-shirt and looked like he’d splashed water on himself, too; his arms and neck were slightly wet. So was his hair, as if he’d stuck it under the tap.
The urge to touch the dampness of it where it lay against his neck was almost overwhelming.
Remus glanced away.
Coming over to the sinks, Sirius gently took his arm; he winced as Sirius unwrapped the strip of Tshirt.
Once it was washed off, the wound didn’t look that bad, though it was sort of deep.
Sirius cleaned it with a tube of antiseptic from the first-aid kit and wrapped gauze around it.
His hands were skillful, efficient.
“You really know what you’re doing,” Remus said.
He shrugged, his dark hair falling across his forehead.
“We had to do everything for ourselves at the camp. There wasn’t a doctor for miles.” He secured the gauze with tape, firming it in place with a finger.
The finger lingered for a moment, and then he let his hand drop. “OK, I think you’ll live.”
Remus touched the bandage. “So . . . what now?”
Sirius shook his head as he started to pack up the first-aid kit. “I don’t know,” he said. “It sounds like there aren’t any AKs left now, apart from me. Even if there are, I don’t have any way to find them. Peter—” He stopped, pain creasing his face. “Peter was the one person I thought I could trust,” he said finally.
Remus didn’t want to ask, but he had to know.
“Sirius, do you still . . . do you want to stay together? You don’t have to, if you’d rather not. I could go off on my own, or something.”
His head jerked up. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re in so much danger with me, and —” Remus looked away, hugging himself. “And after what you saw today, I wouldn’t blame you. I mean, I know you’ve seen my angel before, but not like that. It must have been —” His mouth tightened; he couldn’t continue.
“Remus.” Sirius's voice was very soft. “What I saw was your angel protecting me. When I was in trouble, he protected me even before he protected you.”
He leaned against the sink, not taking his gaze from Remus's face. “Did you know he was doing it? Or was he something separate from you?”
Remus didn’t want to answer this; it felt too exposing, too raw.
But to lie about it would be to deny everything he felt about Sirius.
“No, it wasn’t separate,” Remus whispered. “I didn’t know it was going to happen, but once it did . . . I was the angel. I — I didn’t want anything to hurt you.”
Sirius didn’t say anything at first; Remus's heart clenched at the expression in his eyes as he stared down at Remus.
Finally he said huskily, “Jesus, Remus. You shouldn’t have done that, not for me. If anything had happened to you —” He broke off.
“I know.” Remus let out a breath. “I wouldn’t be able to defeat the angels.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Sirius's throat moved. “Yes, I still want to be with you,” he said.
Remus felt tears start. “Really? You trust me, even though I’m half angel?”
He regarded Remus in confusion.
“I’ve known you were half angel since the day we met.”
“I know, but —” Remus swiped at his eyes. “It just feels a lot more real to me now. Do you trust me?”
Slowly, Sirius shook his head. “How can you even ask me that, after what you did? I’d trust you with my life.”
Remus almost sobbed out loud; he tried to turn it into a laugh. “I thought — I thought you didn’t trust anyone.”
“I’ll make an exception in your case.”
Reaching out, Sirius touched the side of his face, gently cupping Remus's cheek with his hand.
“Remus, that was the — nicest, most wonderful — stupidest thing that anyone’s ever done for me.”
Remus did laugh then, wiping his eyes. “So you really want to hang out with someone this stupid?”
His own smile faded. “Yeah, I do,” he said softly, his hand still touching Remus's face.
The world went very still around them.
Remus could hear the sound of a distant car passing on the highway; his heart thudded crazily as they stared at each other.
Sirius hesitated.
His head moved a fraction, so that for a wild moment Remus actually thought Sirius was going to kiss him.
Then a look that Remus couldn’t read flickered through his eyes.
Letting his hand fall from Remus's face, he cleared his throat and smiled.
“If, um — you still want to hang out with me, that is.”
Remus nodded, his cheeks on fire. “Yeah, I think I can deal with that,” he said, managing to smile through his embarrassment.
How could he have imagined, even for a second, that Sirius was about to kiss him?
“So . . . what now?” Remus said after a pause, trying to sound normal.
Silently, Sirius finished packing his first-aid kit.
“Come on, let’s get something to drink,” he said.
Standing outside, he fed coins into the vending machine, buying them each a Coke.
Remus hadn’t thought he wanted anything, but it tasted wonderful, like nectar, and he took deep gulps.
They were alive.
That was the important thing.
And they were still going to be together.
Warmth filled his chest.
Leaving the porch area, they went back out into the sunshine, heading toward the truck.
Sirius was frowning, looking down as he walked.
“To tell you the truth, I think our options are pretty limited,” he said. “I was counting on Peter to know how to reach the other AKs.”
He sighed. “What we really need is for the CIA to find us, if Project Angel still exists.”
“Could they?”
Sirius shrugged. “Yeah, in theory . . . if there’s anyone left in Project Angel without angel burn, then they’ve got to be looking for us — they must have spies in the Church of Angels who’ll have heard what’s going on.”
Remus thought about this as they reached the truck.
He could feel the heat coming off it, just standing next to it.
“That doesn’t help us, though, does it? Even if they are looking for us, we don’t have any way to contact them.”
Sirius shook his head as he drained his Coke.
“No, we’re on our own.” He pitched the empty can into a metal garbage can nearby; it made a ringing noise.
“Look, I think that just keeping alive is probably a pretty good goal for now. How would you feel about going underground for a while? It’ll give us some breathing room, so we can try to figure out what to do.”
“Going underground?” Remus repeated. “You mean — hide out somewhere?”
Sirius's eyes met his. “Yeah, what do you think? I know a place we can go.”
Remembering the warmth of Sirius's hand on his cheek, his heart quickened at the thought of being somewhere alone with Sirius, not on the run or driving all day.
“That . . . sounds good,” Remus got out.
“OK,” Sirius said, nodding.
They climbed into the truck.
Sirius put the first-aid kit back in his bag, then tapped the steering wheel, looking deep in thought.
“So, with any luck, those were the only angels in the area. If we get away fast, it might take a while for the others to figure out what’s happened. The place I’m thinking of is up in the mountains, so we should check out whatever Peter's got in those boxes back there, make sure we have enough food. We need to stop and grab a few things, anyway.”
Remus started to smile. “You mean we’re going shopping?”
Sirius laughed. “Don’t get too excited; we’re talking sporting goods.” He started the truck.
“OK,” he said. “‘It’s a hundred and six miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark, and we’re wearing sunglasses.’”
Remus felt his mouth quirk at the Blues Brothers quote.
And he thought — even if Sirius is never going to feel the same way that he does, it doesn’t matter.
Remus still wants to be with him.
Remus never wanted to be without him.
“Hit it,” he said.
~~~~~~
A few hours later, they had crossed over into Arizona, keeping to minor roads when they could.
At a small shopping mall outside of Phoenix, Sirius pulled into a space that was half hidden behind a Dumpster.
Opening the boxes that held Peter's supplies, they examined the stacks of canned food.
“Do you think it’ll be enough?” asked Remus, craning over his seat.
“I’d better get some more,” said Sirius, looking across at the supermarket that sat at one end of the mall. “I want us to be able to hide out for a long time if we need to.”
Remus glanced at the supermarket, too, his brow furrowed.
“Well, I guess I’d better stay in the truck while you get whatever we need. I don’t have a cap anymore, to hide my hair.”
Sirius knew that he was right, but he didn’t like the thought of leaving Remus alone — not when a description of the truck had probably already been circulated to every Church of Angels member in the country.
“I’ll hurry,” Sirius said. “Here — take this, OK?”
He reached under his T-shirt and pulled out his gun; Remus's green eyes widened as Sirius held it out to him.
“Sirius, you know I don’t —”
“Please,” he said.
Gingerly, Remus took it, looking as if he expected it to grow teeth and bite her. “I could seriously never use this,” he said.
“Fine, just wave it threateningly at someone if you have to. But I’d feel better if you had it.”
Sirius took out his wallet and glanced inside it, counting his cash.
Remus's eyebrows rose at the number of bills.
He placed the gun carefully in the storage bucket, keeping his fingers well away from the trigger. “Are you sure you’re not really a drug dealer?”
Sirius laughed. “No, I just never trusted the CIA much. I always kept some cash on hand in case I needed to take off.”
He eyed the clothes Remus was wearing. “You’re going to need a few things; it’ll be colder where we’re going. What size do you wear? Shoe size, too, so I can get you some hiking boots.”
Remus told him, looking apprehensive. “You mean you’re going to do my shopping for me?”
Sirius grinned. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Says the guy who called my favourite a ‘ jeans, t-shirt and jumper thing.’ Look, only get solid colors, OK? I hate prints. And could you get me a toothbrush?”
“Solid colors, no prints, toothbrush — got it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Sirius paused before he got out, concern creasing through him at the thought of Remus out here on his own.
“Look, keep down, all right? Pretend you’re asleep or something.”
Remus nodded, his eyes warm on Sirius's. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Sirius did the shopping as quickly as he could, loading a shopping cart with everything he thought they might need.
At the sporting goods store, he bought them both hiking boots and thermal sleeping bags, a camp stove and canisters of gas.
He didn’t start to feel really out of his depth until he checked out a clothing store to get things for Remus.
He did the best he could, taking a pile of clothes to the counter.
“Shopping for your girlfriend?” said the girl at the cash register.
"Er- sort of,” said Sirius.
As she rang up his purchases, his attention was caught by a display of silver jewelry on the checkout counter.
One of the necklaces had a chain so slim it was almost invisible; a faceted crystal teardrop hung from it, catching the light.
Lifting the necklace from the display rack, Sirius turned the crystal pendant over in his hand.
It reminded him of Remus.
The crystal was the way his angel had looked, as he hovered in the sky above Sirius.
“That’s pretty, isn’t it?” said the girl. “I bet she'd like it.” She dimpled at him.
Sirius ran his thumb over the crystal, not sure whether it was a good idea.
But the memory of Remus's angel lingered: the way it had protected him, keeping him from harm.
He’d never been so moved by anything in his life.
Besides, he thought, they’d probably still be in hiding when their birthdays came up in a few weeks; it would be nice to have something to give to Remus.
He unhooked the necklace from the rack. “Could I get this?”
The girl placed the necklace in a small white box padded with cotton.
“You are going to get so many brownie points for this.” She smiled and put it in the large plastic bag with the rest of Remus's clothes.
“Here, I’ll — keep that separate,” said Sirius.
He stuck the box in his pocket and paid her.
“Thanks.”
He headed back to the truck, feeling confused by his own actions.
The moment in the restroom came hurtling back; he had come this close to kissing Remus.
What the hell had he been doing, anyway?
He knew better.
He didn’t want to be as close to anyone as he’d somehow already managed to get to Remus, even just as friends.
It wasn’t worth it; caring about people simply meant that he would lose them.
Yet it felt as if there was no way back.
He didn’t want to be without Remus, either.
When Sirius reached the truck, to his relief Remus was curled up asleep, hardly even visible from outside.
Sirius stood gazing at him for a second, thinking how peaceful he looked.
“Hey,” Sirius said softly, leaning in and touching his shoulder through the open window.
He stirred drowsily awake, blinking up at him.
“Oh, wow, I really did fall asleep.” Getting out, he helped Sirius load some of the lighter boxes into the truck.
“Careful of your arm,” Sirius said, glancing at the bandage.
“It’s all right, just a little sore. I had a good doctor.” Spotting the shopping bag with the clothes, Remus peeked inside. “Hey, that red sweater’s really pretty. OK, maybe you can be trusted with important clothes missions after all.”
“Phew.” Sirius had thought the color would look great with his hair, though Sirius was too embarrassed to say so now.
He nodded at the shopping bag as he stacked boxes. “I got you another baseball cap, too — you’d better put it on.”
Remus did so, tucking his blond hair out of sight, then put on his sunglasses.
As they finished loading the supplies, he said, “Do you want me to drive for a while?”
“That’s OK; go back to sleep if you want.”
Remus had his head to one side, taking in the truck’s lines. “No, I’m fine,” he said. “I don’t mind, really.”
Sirius grinned suddenly. “Oh, I get it. You just want to drive a big 4x4 and see what it’s like, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Remus shot him a laughing look. “You must be psychic or something.”
“Hey, you’re not the only one with talent. Go for it,” he said, tossing Remus the keys.
He snapped them from the air, and a minute later was moving the driver’s seat forward, looking incredibly cute behind the wheel.
Trying not to think about it, he settled beside Remus, stretching his legs out.
Starting up the truck, Remus checked the rearview mirror and maneuvered them out of the parking lot. “Which way am I going?”
“Take the interstate north for now,” he directed. “We’ll get off it soon and use back roads instead.”
He pulled out onto the main road. “This is great,” he said, downshifting as he slowed for a stoplight. “Nice and smooth.”
“No way. Is it really better than a Mustang?”
“You know, it’s so sad how you just don’t get it.” He glanced at Sirius with a smile.
They rode in companionable silence for a while.
Remus turned on the radio, twirling the dial to a classical station.
The floating, buoyant sound of a violin concerto wrapped around them. “Is this OK?” he asked.
Sirius had his eyes half closed, his hands linked over his stomach.
“Yeah, I like classical. Dad used to play it sometimes.”
Between the music and the motion of the truck, he almost drifted off to sleep himself.
Then Remus's voice said, “Sirius, can you wake up?”
He opened his eyes groggily.
Remus was peering into the rearview mirror, looking anxious.
“Tell me I’m being paranoid,” he said. “That green Pontiac back there. Is it following us?”
Immediately wide awake, he twisted in his seat.
The Pontiac was cruising along behind them, about ten car lengths back. “What’s it been doing?” he asked.
“Keeping exactly that same length behind us, no matter what I do. I’ve tried speeding up a little and slowing down, and it always stays right there.”
Remus looked in the mirror again. “I mean, I know it’s the interstate, so it’s hard to tell. I’ve just . . . sort of got a feeling about it.”
Remus's “feelings” were more than good enough for him.
“OK. Move to the outside lane,” said Sirius.
He did.
A moment later the Pontiac followed, gliding across the lanes.
“Just keep going at this speed,” he said, keeping an eye on the Pontiac. “Then when you get to the next turnoff, throw the wheel hard and get onto it.”
Remus nodded, his hands tensing on the wheel.
An exit came up a few miles later; waiting until the last possible second, he spun the wheel sharply to the right and swerved across three lanes of traffic.
Horns blared; the 4x4 lurched as he bounced up the ramp, spinning the wheel to right them.
Behind them, the Pontiac quickly changed lanes but didn’t make the exit in time.
Sirius watched as they sailed fruitlessly past.
“Now, as soon as you can, get back onto the interstate again, still heading north.”
Remus's eyes flew to his. “Back? But —”
“It’s all right. Trust me.”
With a worried look, Remus took the next turnoff, returning them to the interstate.
About ten minutes later, Sirius spotted the green Pontiac speeding down the interstate in the opposite direction, having obviously taken the next exit off to follow them.
He let out a breath.
“Good. They fell for it.”
Remus let out a breath. “Do you think we lost them?”
“For now, anyway,” he said.
Sirius glanced at him. “Hey, pretty good driving.”
“Pretty good trick,” he said, trying to smile. “Did you have high-speed chase lessons in school?”
Sirius hesitated. “Peter told me about it,” he said finally. “He used to bootleg, back in Alabama. You should have heard the stories he used to tell.”
He fell silent, pain knifing through him.
Reus was watching his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “He was a good friend, wasn’t he?”
Memories flashed past — Peter smoking his cigar with a grin, shaking his head in the rearview mirror at him and Regulus.
And then later, Peter's arm firm around his shoulders, steadying him, saying, You did good. You did good.
Sirius cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’ve known him for most of my life. He was just . . . a really good guy.” He tried for an upbeat tone. “Wow, look, another depressing topic.”
“I don’t mind depressing topics,” said Remus softly.
“I do.” He leaned back in his seat again, stretching his legs out. Deliberately, he changed the subject.
“Do you want to stop and grab something to eat soon, if there’s a drive-through?”
“OK,” said Remus after a pause. Then he gave Sirius an arch look. “It’s time for a coffee break. That’s what you’re really saying, isn’t it? You need your caffeine fix.”
The urge at that moment to reach across and touch Remus — to link their as he rested his hand on his thigh, or stroke his bright hair back from his temple — was almost overpowering.
Sirius crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yep, definitely time for a coffee break,” he said, closing his eyes. “You see right through me.”