Chapter 7In spite of the mild spring weather, Laurie was sweating by the time he was a block away from Last Chance. It was only a couple of miles from his parents’ home, but the bike had crapped out on him about half a mile into the ride, the tires going totally flat. He’d continued on the rims, weaving in and out of the streets, as much to avoid being spotted by anyone who’d refused to evacuate—he knew there were people who could be stubborn that way—as for taking the shortcuts he was familiar with, but that bike was almost as big a piece of s**t as his car, and it hadn’t lasted long after that. He’d made the rest of the trip on foot, often doubling back on his tracks whenever the hairs at the back of his neck rose and gave him the feeling he was being watched. And although there were any
