Unbound

Chapter 8

They parked in front of the Beltway Motor Lodge, a shady looking place with a neon sign out front saying 'cancy,' and even that was pulsing as if it would go out any minute. There were a few other cars in the dark parking lot, but they could have been left there by the 1960's, judging from the shape they were in.

"Do we really have to stay here?" Pastor Tim said from the back seat, sandwiched between Zareen and Hayden. "I have a standing reservation at the Hilton downtown, for those nights when service runs late. We could be there in a few minutes. There's a pool. And a Jacuzzi."

"They'll be looking for you, Tim," Simon said with a sigh as he pushed open the car door. "Your church was just responsible for thousands of deaths. Or more. There's no telling how many people were Taken by Shira."

Hayden slipped out of the sedan, hurrying to get away from his dad's idiotic questions. He'd done nothing but complain the entire drive out of town. The car was too small. It smelled like weed. Did anyone have any weed? Someone peed in his seat at some point, which may be the smell and not weed.

He stretched and turned, watching as Jesus groped around for the door handle. After a few moments, he found it and the door popped open. He pushed out, muttering something about horses.

"Does your father never close his mouth?" Jesus asked wearily. The blood on his face, which had been wet when he'd first entered through the baptismal, was dry and flaking now. The tattoo on his forehead was dark and faint.

"He gets paid to talk," Hayden said, shrugging. He eyed the man, questions burning a hole in his tongue.

"Tell him I am poor, he can shut up."

Hayden barked a short laugh.

"Pop the trunk," Zareen said as she left the backseat, followed by Pastor Tim.

Simon didn't ask why, just reached into the car and hit the release.

"Help me out, wonderboy."

She didn't look at Hayden, but he figured she was talking to him. With an inward sigh, he joined her at the back of the car. The trunk wasn't that big, but it was crammed with two large black duffle bags.

"What are those?" He asked, leaning in.

"My parents."

Hayden jerked back as if bitten. "What?"

Zareen laughed and reached in, jerking one of the bags out. "They're supplies, dumbass. God. No, they're full of tampons."

Hayden arched an eyebrow, but reached in and grabbed a bag. "You must be sporting the Grand Canyon down there," he said, stomach nervous.

"Holy shit, it makes a joke," Zareen said, though she didn't laugh. "One day I bet you'll find one that's funny."

Hayden sighed and hoisted the bag over one shoulder.

Ahead of them, Simon peeled out of his ruined suit jacket and tossed it into the car. "Head up to the second floor, I'll get a room."

"Room 206," Zareen called after him. He just lifted a hand and waved in response.

"So, you can see the future or something?" Hayden asked as they crossed the parking lot. The motel's outside was nothing but windows, all the doors were accessed by hallways within. A little bit of added security, he figured.

"Something," Zareen said, hefting the duffle to her other shoulder, the one closest to Hayden.

He got the hint and held the door to the stairs open for her and the others. His father walked in behind Zareen and he turned to find Jesus holding the door open, waiting for Hayden to enter.