Louis Collins: A Post-American Odyssey

Chapter 87

Louis woke under the borrowed blanket to the smell of coffee and bacon from downstairs. He lay still for a few seconds, listening to footsteps, running water, and low voices in the kitchen, then opened his eyes and pushed himself upright.

“What time is it?” Louis asked.

“Eight twenty.” Angelique was already up. She glanced at him. “Savannah said breakfast at eight.”

Louis sighed. The cane was propped against the wall. His knee hurt less after sleep, but it was still stiff. He stretched it carefully before standing.

“Let’s go before they eat everything.” Gladice came out of the bathroom, already dressed. “I am starving.”

Louis dressed up and followed them out of the bedroom. Willa and Donya were already downstairs. A table set for nine filled most of the dining room. On the sideboard were orange juice, biscuits under a towel, sliced peaches, grits, bacon, a covered dish of eggs, a pot of coffee, and a stack of mismatched bowls.

Marcus sat at the head of the table in shirtsleeves, with a folded newspaper and an open leather portfolio beside his plate. Savannah sat to his right with a cup of coffee in front of her, her hair clipped back on one side. A woman at the stove looked up as they entered, with her back straight and a dish towel in one hand. A boy of twelve or thirteen sat near the sideboard eating grits and watching the newcomers openly.

Marcus moved the newspaper aside. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Louis said.

Savannah lifted her cup toward them. “Y’all eat something. It’s the only meal you’re getting today if my father moves fast.”

Angelique looked over the food. “This is generous.”

The woman wiped her hands on the towel and came around the stove. “Y’all sit first. Talk after,” she said. “Food’s hotter than whatever plans you think can survive hunger.”

Louis pulled out a chair. The others followed.

Marcus gestured toward the woman. “Louis Collins. This my wife, Lorraine.” He tilted his head toward the boy. “That’s my son, Micah.”

Lorraine gave Louis a brief nod, then looked over the others. Micah kept eating without taking his eyes off them.

“Thank you for having us,” Louis said.

“Eat first,” Lorraine said. “You can thank me with clean plates.”

They ate without arguing. The eggs had cheese and green pepper in them, the biscuits were still hot, and the coffee was strong. For several minutes, little passed around the table except plates and serving dishes.

Once everyone had eaten, Marcus opened the portfolio and placed five cards face down on the table.

“Before anything else,” he said, “your names for the next twenty-four hours.”

The others stopped eating. Savannah set down her fork, and Micah looked at the cards.

Marcus slid the first one toward Louis. “George Harris. Equipment sales. Durham by registration, Charlotte by story. Injury from a worksite accident.”

Louis turned it over. His photograph appeared in washed-out color above the name George Harris. The blond mustache looked even worse in the picture, but it made him look less like himself. He read the name twice. The man on the card had an ordinary job and an ordinary address. For the next day, that was supposed to be him.

By the time Louis looked up, Marcus had passed the other four cards around and was waiting for him.

“Here’s the plan,” Marcus said. “Y’all leave before noon. Jacob’ll take you to Charlotte in a truck that fits the story. There’s a textile finishing plant there that don’t officially exist anymore. You switch vehicles with help from a contact, then head north. Should reach the Virginia border by sundown. Make it through inspection, and all you got to do is reach the Dominion Embassy in Richmond. From there, you ain’t my problem anymore.”

Louis said, “And if we don’t make it through inspection?”

Marcus’s expression did not change. “Then you’ll be my problem again. But I’m getting y’all through. My man at the Charlotte plant knows how to move people. Jacob’s going with you the whole way. Been doing this ten years.”

Angelique asked, “What if we’re stopped before Charlotte?”

“Long as y’all don’t do anything stupid, you won’t be. The Charlotte truck’s legit. Route’s clear. My people know the backroads, the militia checkpoints that don’t ask questions when the paperwork’s right, and the places where state police are too busy to care. Stay in character. Move when I tell you to move. And follow Jacob’s lead.”

“And Savannah?” Gladice asked.

Marcus looked at his daughter. “She goes with y’all. That’s the deal.”

Savannah leaned back in her chair. “I’m expecting a warm welcome in the Dominion.”

“You’ll get one,” Louis said.

Willa said, “How reliable is your contact in Charlotte?”

“Reliable enough I’d trust him with my daughter’s life.” Marcus glanced at Savannah. She had picked up a piece of bacon.

“That’s good enough,” Willa said.

“Now the weapons.” Marcus glanced toward the doorway.

Jacob entered carrying a black bag. He set it beside Marcus and stepped back. Marcus opened it and laid two Glock pistols, four spare magazines, and a compact drone on the table.

“Two pistols. Nine mil. Two extra mags each.” He pointed to the drone. “Older Chinese model. It can fly ahead and show you what’s around the next bend. Battery’ll last about thirty minutes.” He looked at Willa. “You know how to use it?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good.”

Marcus slid one pistol toward Louis and the other toward Gladice. Louis passed his to Angelique. She removed the magazine, checked the chamber, and put the magazine back. Gladice checked hers the same way.

Marcus waited until they had finished. “Don’t draw unless you mean to use them. And don’t let anybody see the drone. It ain’t legal in this country.”

Gladice tucked the pistol into her waistband. “How do we pay you?”

“For this?” Marcus looked at Savannah. “Get my daughter to the Dominion alive, with citizenship and opportunity. That’s payment enough.”

Louis met his eyes. “I will keep my word.”

Lorraine had said little during breakfast. She set down her fork.

“And what happens if these children don’t survive, Marcus?”

Micah looked from his mother to his father, then lowered his eyes to his bowl.

Marcus said, “They’ll survive.”

“That ain’t an answer.” Lorraine kept her voice low. “You’re putting my daughter in the hands of strangers running from the most powerful man in the state. You’re giving them weapons and a route with no guarantees. And you’re sending Savannah into a foreign country where we can’t reach her if she gets in trouble.” She turned to Louis. “If something goes wrong, what do you intend to do for Savannah?”

Louis met her gaze. “If she is with me and she is in trouble, I will die before I let anyone take her.”

Lorraine looked at him for a moment, then at Gladice and Angelique. Both women sat straighter.

Savannah pushed her plate away. “Mama, I’m not a child.”

“You’re my child.”

“And I can handle this. We got a deal. We all know what we owe each other. That has to be enough.”

Lorraine looked across the group. “I want y’all to know what kind of house you’re eating in before you carry one of ours out of it.”

Marcus leaned back. He did not interrupt.

Lorraine folded her hands. “We had another son. Micah’s older brother.” Her voice stayed level. “He was seventeen.” She kept her eyes on her hands. “His name was Andre.”

No one spoke.

“He liked boys,” she said. “Which wasn’t a problem until it became one. Somebody in his prayer group decided to save his soul. Then the youth pastor knew. Then the county office knew. Then the kind of men who need a target knew.” She lifted her coffee, then set it down without drinking. “They came and got him out of a car wash lot two years ago in broad daylight. Said they were taking him for correction. Three days later, they said he died resisting.”

Micah’s spoon touched the side of his bowl. He kept his eyes down. Savannah sat still, her jaw tight.

Lorraine continued. “There wasn’t a body worth burying. Just what they sent back in a bag with paperwork attached.” She looked toward Louis and the others. “So when Marcus says this country’s closing, he ain’t speaking in metaphor. It started closing on our family a long time ago.”

Donya covered her mouth. Beside Louis, Angelique lowered her eyes.

Marcus said, “That’s enough.”

“No,” Savannah said.

She looked directly at Louis. “This is what you’re dealing with. You want to get home to your father. I want to go somewhere the law don’t see me as a disease. Your path’s easier. Mine has a price. We’re trading what we have for what we need. It’s simple, and it has to happen fast.”

Louis said, “I understand.”

Savannah nodded once.

Marcus closed the portfolio. “Good. This house done said what it needed to say. Now we move on.”

He looked at the clock on the wall. “Pack light. Backpacks only. If you don’t already have one, we’ll give you one. Anything you don’t need, leave here. Weapons hidden. Keep your papers where you can reach them quickly, but don’t act nervous. Nervous hands get searched.”

Micah said without looking up, “Is it true your father owns the whole West Coast?”

Louis turned toward him. “Yes, and Hawaii too.”

Micah stopped with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Hell.” Micah went back to eating. “I wanna go there.”

Lorraine shook her head. “Maybe one day.”

Marcus stood. “If there’s nothing else, y’all should pack and get ready.”

“There is another thing. My father would like to talk to you,” Louis said.

“Of course he would.” Marcus gave him a brief smile. “Once y’all are safe in Richmond, I’ll talk to him. For now, focus on the road.”

Donya stood up. “Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Ellington. And for… for telling us. I am so sorry for your loss.”

Lorraine looked at her for a moment. “Don’t be sorry. Be careful.”

Willa pushed her chair back. “We will.”

Savannah stood last. “I’m going to change. Meet me in the hall when you’re ready.”

She left without looking back.

“Come on,” Gladice said to the others. “Let’s get our stuff.”

They went upstairs. Bernice brought three extra backpacks. They distributed the remaining cash between the bags, with smaller rolls hidden in pockets and bras. Willa secured the laptop and phone in a padded case and placed it in her bag.

“Alright.” Gladice zipped her bag. “I feel like a mule.”

“A well-armed mule,” Angelique said, checking the pistol at the small of her back.

“I just hope this works,” Donya said.

“It has to,” Willa said.

An engine slowed outside the house. A second followed, then a third. They stopped one after another along the curb.

Louis looked toward the window.

“Sounds like trouble,” Gladice said.

Savannah came to the door and knocked. “Downstairs. Now! Don’t look out the windows.”