Tom Brand Escapes

20-Escapes the City of M.I.

They drove along in silence for a while before Brand finally allowed himself to sleep. At this pace they would arrive in Sault Ste. Marie by daybreak. Petras would find a motel to get some rest. Brand would take Slater with him to make arrangements to cross St. Mary's River into Ontario.

Brand was jarred awake. The car bounced along a pot-holed driveway that led up to a Cape Cod-style home. Petras pulled up to the weathered but solid-looking little structure and shifted into park. There was a single gas pump near the front steps and a beaten up pick-up truck sat on a patch of crab grass that at one time might have passed for a decent lawn. The bay window on the right announced it was a storefront, with both bait and lunch sold here. From the clapboard of the window on the left side hung a small wooden sign shaped like an arrow with the word "Motel" in black letters painted on a yellow background. Underneath that, a smaller, faded sign that read "vacancy" hung from it by a tiny hook. Brand wondered how Petras had even seen it.

Petras began to slowly get out of the car, "This was not good for my back."

He stretched his arms up over his head and did some shoulder rolls as Brand slid over to the driver seat and Jenn climbed into the passenger seat.

Petras leaned against the driver door to speak with Brand through the car window.

"How long will you be?" he asked.

Brand rubbed at the stubble on his chin with his knuckles. It itched like hell. He needed a shave but didn't figure he would accomplish that any time soon.

"At least two, maybe three hours. We have to drive about another forty-five miles northwest."

A woman opened the screen door of the house and stood at the top step, "Hep ya?" she asked. She had short wavy dark blonde hair and was dressed for the climate in jeans and flannel. She looked no more than forty, yet her cadence was that of a person twenty years older.

Petras raised his hand, the gesture looking like a salute as he shielding his eyes from the brightening sky, "You have a room?"

"Yep, like the sign says. It's thirty dollars for the day. Cash only."

"Great," Petras said to her, "We'll need some gas, too."

"Ten," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"Ten dollars worth," the woman raised both hands up slightly in front of her, "Waiting on a delivery. I can only give you ten. Don't want to leave anyone stranded. Not another pump for fifty miles."

"That's fine," Petras took a ten dollar bill from his pocket.

"Charming," he said to Brand.

"Don't fall in love," said Brand. He shifted into gear and pulled the car up to the pump as Petras handed the bill over to the woman. She retreated into the house for a moment before returning to nod at Petras and watch him pump the gas. Petras slapped on the side of the car when he was finished and Brand pulled away, watching through his rearview as the woman escorted Petras around the front corner of the building. He stopped at the entrance to the road.

"AIs your work always this glamorous?" Jenn asked. She craned her neck to watch the pair as they disappeared around the back corner of the house.

"Were you expecting something out of James Bond?" Brand smiled as her face reddened. Jenn Slater would make a miserable poker player.

"I hope she's not an ax murderer," she said crossing her arms tightly around her, "That place gave me the creeps."

"Well, we won't be there very long and we're going to be roughing it a lot more than this," Brand said.

"I can do roughing it," Jenn replied, "I'd rather be in the middle of the wilderness alone than have to sleep with one eye open."

Brand laughed, "Petras is much more dangerous than that woman could ever be. If there was even a whiff of trouble he would have gotten right back in the car. That place is perfect."

"You think so?" Jenn asked.

"Why are you so skeptical of it?"

Jenn closed her eyes and leaned her head back. As Brand pulled onto the road she opened them and turned to him, "I can't put my finger on it."