Time to Run Read Online Free Page B

she wanted ten minutes, she should have asked for twelve. “Fine. Just don’t leave me here.”
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    â€œTo the coffee shop.”
    She walked across the street to the Square Cup and Saucer, a coffee bar/Internet lounge. Nicki had been a coffee fan for as long as she could remember. Even as a little girl, her mom would fix her a cup that was mostly sugar and milk, but she’d always loved the taste. Yet another favorite pastime crossed off the list by her death sentence. No caffeine, period.
    But God, the aroma of the place. She wondered if this was how an ex-smoker felt when she sat in a bar.
    Oh, what the hell. Brad said this was a whole new beginning. When the barista looked to her, Nicki ordered a large coffee to go.
    It took a minute to figure out how the pay-for-computer-time thing worked, but only a minute. She paid her three dollars, slid into a booth, and clicked on her service provider. The page opened up in a blink, the wonders of a high-speed connection. Back home, Dad was too cheap to pay for a DSL connection, so she was stuck with a screechy modem. She logged on under her regular screen name and briefly scanned the headings of her incoming e-mail, finding nothing but junk, three of which were offers to make her penis longer. Go figure.
    She still had three and a half minutes of the cabbie’s time reserved when she opened the “Write Mail” window and tapped in Brad’s address.
    â€œOkay,” she wrote. “You win. It’s 2:37 now, and I’m on the next bus outta here. Don’t stand me up. Luv, N.”
    She read it four times to make sure that it said all that it needed to, but not a word more, then clicked the Send button. Just like that, at the speed of light, her new life began.
    Sipping her coffee, aglow with the feeling of guilt, Nicki again concentrated on keeping her movements smooth and as normal-looking as possible. She ran the plan through her head one more time.
    Looking back, it was probably a mistake to leave the message on the home phone so early. She just didn’t want Dad to worry.

    February 15
    I got my work assignment, and it’s the shittiest one. I’m in the kitchen, slogging pots. I’ve never seen so much stuck-on crap. And the roaches. There’s a decent guy here named Derek Johnson who says the roaches own the place. We’re only squatters.
    I’m beginning to get the lay of the place. The Posse is the gang to stay away from. It’s all white boys and they’re sick bastards. If they want you they own you. That’s what I’ve heard. So far, they haven’t paid any attention to me. They’re not afraid of anybody but Officer Georgen.
    Lucas Georgen is a monster. He’s 6’ 4”, probably, and I’m guessing three hundred pounds. He doesn’t put up with nothing from anybody. He tells you the sky is green and you say yes, sir. I’ve seen him lay his stick against a guy’s head, and it’s good night, Nellie. Bastard hits the floor, and people step over him.
    The Posse moves around this place like a pack of wolves. I don’t know how many of them there are, but I think I know who the leaders are. In the World, they’d all be bikers. Skinheads, maybe. They’ve got tattoos on their tattoos. Derek says there’s nothing to worry about from the Posse so long as you stay out of their way and never owe them anything.
    I don’t even look at them.

Chapter Three
    S itting on the edge of Nicki’s bed, Carter listened to the message on the machine a dozen times before his mind shifted out of neutral.
    â€œHi, Daddy. I know how you think, so I’ll tell you now that I haven’t been kidnapped and I’m not doing any kind of suicide-y thing. I’m just being me, okay? And it’s not about our argument last night. I just had to get away from everything. I’m not living my last months with tubes sticking out of me. You