The Kingmaker

21 - Play

And yet the feeling that she was being watched never faded, not completely. Eden didn't pause or even change the speed of her pace, making certain she betrayed nothing of her awareness, but there could be no mistake. She wasn't alone. Someone was with her.

Maybe it was the paranoia speaking, though. The last several weeks she had been checking over shoulder at discreet intervals, not wanting to attract unwanted attention by seeming too nervous and yet feeling the hair-raising sensation of someone's eyes on her, following her movements.

Most of the time, it turned out to be a greasy lecher who had no ulterior motives beyond observing the 'scenery,' but this time, it was different. From the moment she had left the small archive room and exited the library, she had felt someone dogging her heels like a bloodhound on her trail.

She knew it - couldn't prove it, but knew it: she had spent her the last eight years under a magnifying glass with someone scrutinizing her every movement behind a computer screen. If she couldn't tell when she was being watched after living through that, then she was truly hopeless.

And the sensation didn't fade even when she turned the corner onto the next block, or the next. If anything, it intensified, and she felt a cool shiver tremble along her skin as she considered her options. She couldn't go back to the apartment, she decided. That was for sure. There was a possibility that they already knew where she lived, but on the off chance that they didn't, she wasn't going to give it to them so easily.

But how to lose them? The streets weren't crowded here, and she wasn't going to let them tail her across the city back and forth until rush hour came by again. She had to lose them now before they could tag her with a tracking device or get a good look at her face, even - she casually pulled her hood farther down over her face as she continued to walk on.

Where. Where.

The obvious choice was the subway station, but that ran its own risks. If her pursuer managed to make it onto the same train as she did - which was more than possible - that would mean she would be trapped in a closed, cramped area with the person until it reached the next station. And that could mean life or death - or worse, could mean the compromise of all her plans.

She would rather suffer a quick death than witness such an undignified end to her efforts scarcely before they had even begun.

And yet where else could she go? Not into a*****e - the closest bustling supermarket that would even be remotely useful was miles away, and that was simply too far, would take too long. A movie theater? No, they would be waiting outside for as long as they needed to. And if she tried to use the fire exit of any building to give anyone the slip, there would be too much noise. She felt like an insect trapped under a glass -

Composure.

Eden stilled her nerves again and kept the prey instinct at bay. Yes, she was being followed, but she couldn't run. Whatever their exact intentions, they were biding their time, and that was where she would find the weakness. She had to string them along and keep them confident until she had her opportunity.

She stopped at a bus terminal and pretended to carefully observe the map, ignoring the other half a dozen people waiting there just as they ignored her. This, too, was a risk: staying still only allowed her tail to get closer. But this was critical - she had to make them feel confident. She had to make them think she didn't know.

She traced an imaginary path along the map with her finger as if she were searching for a route, and then turned and began moving down the sidewalk again with her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. Two blocks from here, there was a subway station that she would have to enter. Trite and predictable, but still her best chance, and if they ended up on the same subway car? Well, she'd just have to figure out a way to sort that problem out afterward.

But did she really have no other choice? Surely there was a better option. What time was it?  She checked the time on the burner phone she was carrying, an old flip phone model that was thankfully equipped to at least provide that capability. Eight minutes before the next train left. There was time. If she couldn't think of anything better than trying to lose her tail on the subway, then she would have to make a break for it.

She moved on, feeling the eyes on her all the while. She was burning to turn around and see who it was, but she couldn't let her tail know that she had made them.

Could it be one of DiAngelo's men? Maybe he had managed to track her down somehow. Or maybe it was one of Goodwin's - she could have figured out who Eden was even past the disguise. Who knew? She'd taken necessary risks here and there, knowing that this was a distinct possibility, but she hadn't expected it to come so soon.

Maybe she could take the bus to the Slum Belt and lose him there. There was no place she knew better and no place more difficult to navigate for anyone who wanted to chase her down, but the problem was that the ride was easily thirty minutes away. That meant she would be on a cramped bus with her tail the entire time, which brought her right back to square one again.

And here was the subway station entrance coming up, a flight of stairs that would lead her underground. Hm, if she timed this right and didn't give away the fact that she knew someone was following her until the time right just right -

"Hold it."

Eden didn't even hesitate. Neurons fired, muscles tensed, and in the next instant her shoes were eating pavement. She was sprinting so quickly that everything was passing by in a blur, people, pets, streetlights, buildings - the subway wasn't an option; nothing would be arriving or leaving in time for her to jump on and make her escape.

A bus? Was there a bus stop nearby? Of course there was, but the problem was that Alexandria's shuttle system was so decrepit that the doors took ten years to close. The man behind her would easily board the bus right behind her before she could slip away.

She didn't recognize his voice, she thought as she continued to sprint on. Had never heard it before in her life. She wracked her memory trying to place it anyway and still came up empty.

Was he alone? Who was he working for? How had he found her? All questions ripping through her mind at lightning speed - but not in panic. Mechanical precision, dissection. She needed to know where her misstep had been so that if she survived this, she could patch the hole and plug the dam. And not make the same mistake twice.

He didn't call out to her again, but she knew that was because he was right on her heels. Why talk when he could just catch her and bash her into the nearest solid object to stop her running? Eden knew she wouldn't stand a chance if it came to that - of all her various skills, close quarters combat had never been part of her arsenal. And she couldn't keep this speed up either: in another block, her body would start slowing down regardless of her say in it.

She clipped past people who swore at her and ignored their outraged cries when they splashed coffee on their clothes from styrofoam cups. Not her problem right now. She really didn't want to make herself so visible, but between that and getting caught by the man who had just ordered her to 'hold it,' there was no argument about which she was willing to risk more.

How much farther? Painful stitches were already creeping into her sides, stinging at the muscles and making her gasp for breath. She would have to run out into the road, then, and try to make it to the other side faster than her pursuer and lose him while he made his way across behind her. A car might hit her before she could though - but even that wasn't a total loss. So long as she didn't die, it would get her some attention: cars would grind to a halt, other people would swarm around her, putting obstacles between her and the man.

It would be visible and conspicuous as all hell, but at this point she had little to lose. Get hit by a car, or offed by a goon? She'd take her chances with the two-ton automobile - at least the driver behind the wheel would be trying to not kill her.

But before she could turn and hurl herself into the street in the way of oncoming traffic, something grabbed a fistful of the back of her jacket to haul her back.

Oh, hell no -

She wriggled out of the jacket and gave it up, slipping out of it with a kind of dexterity she hadn't even known she possessed. At least she had her phone in her hand and the notes she had taken in the library archive room in her pants pocket; there was nothing valuable in the clothing itself that she would mourn. Damn good jacket, though.

"Stop -"

As if. She felt his fingertips graze her arm, but she wrenched it out of the way before spinning out into the road. It wasn't peak traffic time, but that was a good thing: it meant there was more room for people to drive faster than at a snail's pace.

Although she was already mid-stride, she gauged the distance of the closest incoming vehicle, their approximate speed, and then leaped in the way. It wasn't hard, just painful:  despite having forced her body to jump up and forward slightly so that she landed on the oncoming vehicle's hood, the impact still rocked her so hard that she had to clench her jaw to keep from shouting. The car couldn't have been going much faster than perhaps forty miles an hour and had definitely slammed on their brakes when they first saw her careening out onto the road, but she'd be damned if she ever did this again.

She let the momentum roll her up the windshield and caught a glimpse of the driver's horrified face just as she slammed against the glass. With a grunt, then she found herself rolling back down the hood and then fell in a heap onto the asphalt when the car finished screeching to a stop.

Shit, that hurt. Her entire left side of the body was going to look like one big bruise.

But the payoff was worth it. Passersby were already beginning to gather around her, eager to catch sight of something so interesting and exciting as a pedestrian accident, and the driver was hurrying out of his car to see if he had killed her. He wasn't quite so lucky, Eden thought, but she closed her eyes and pretended to be unconscious while she heard the clamor of dozens of voices clamoring and growing all around her.

Someone was calling 911, and someone else was trying to see if they could prod her awake. For now, she couldn't hear that voice - the one that belonged to the man who'd grabbed her.

Well s**t, she was going to have to alter her plans, she thought as she continued to lie unresponsive on the ground. Time to move the timetable up - she didn't know who the man was, but if they were going to interfere in her plans, she needed to get things moving faster before she could be stopped.

But in the meantime, of course, she'd have to lie here and let the crowd separate her from the man. He hadn't barged his way in or begun shooting into the people to get to her, so clearly he wasn't trying to make a scene. No doubt he would follow the vehicle once the ambulance came to take her away, but she'd have a chance to slip out of the hospital once she was unattended.

No, that was the easy part. The real challenge was going to be the cat-and-mouse game that had only just begun; the man had found her this time and would find her again.

Try me, she thought. Let's play.