A Map of Days (Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children #4) - Ransom Riggs Page 0,82

“Thank you.”

“It was you ladies who gave them a chance,” she said. “Thank you both for your bravery. And tell H thanks, too, when you see him.”

Adelaide strode across the forecourt pushing Potts in his wheelchair. “Young people, fine work today!”

“Yeah, but who’s gonna clean up this mess?” Potts grumbled.

“I don’t suppose they’ll bother you again,” Emma said, nodding toward the fallen highwaymen.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” said Miss Billie.

Emma and I took Paul aside.

“Last chance,” Emma said. “Would you consider coming with us?”

He thought for a moment, looking from Emma to Bronwyn to me, then nodded. “I’m overdue for a visit home, anyhow.”

“Yes!” Emma shouted. “Portal, here we come.”

“But where’s he going to sit?” said Enoch. “There’s only room for five!”

“He can sit up front,” said Emma. “And you can ride in the boot.”

I drove slowly into the dark porte cochere, through which we’d had to push the lamed car a few hours earlier. The Aston purred happily now, thanks to Enoch’s know-how and Emma’s welding skills. The sudden gravitational rush came as we rolled through the middle of the short tunnel. I gripped the wheel a little tighter against the sensation that the car was falling off a cliff’s edge, and then we emerged into the wee hours of the present-day night.

I reached to turn on the headlights.

“Wait,” Paul hissed, and I stalled my hand.

He pointed out the windshield, across the wide field. “There. Look.”

At the truck wash, two pairs of headlights were crossed, and silhouetted in them were several men. They’d been waiting, covering the exit. One was holding something near his face that might’ve been a CB radio. It was unclear if they’d seen us.

“Floor it,” said Enoch. “Run them over.”

“Don’t,” said Paul. “They’ve got rifles, and they’re good shots. There’s too much ground to cover to get clear of them.”

“Then back up,” said Emma. “It’s not worth the risk.”

I decided she was right. Like all loops, there was a front way out and a back way out, through the day that was looped. The trouble with going out the back way was that you then had to travel through the past, and the trouble with the past (at least the last hundred years or so) was that it was full of hollows. But that was a problem I was uniquely equipped to handle. So I put the Aston in reverse and rolled us backward through the loop entrance. In a moment we returned to the daylit world of Miss Billie’s motel.

“Back so soon?” she said, walking her dogs toward us. They had already begun to shrink. In a few hours, I guessed, they would be nipping at her heels again.

“There are more highwaymen out there,” Paul said, leaning through his open window. “They must’ve put out a call for reinforcements.”

“I wish we could take you all with us,” I told Miss Billie.

Miss Billie shrugged. “As long as my dog treats hold out, we’ll be all right.”

“We’ll ask H to send you more as soon as he can,” Emma said.

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Can you show us the back way out of here?” I said.

“Sure,” said Miss Billie. “Though by taking it you’re risking your lives. There were shadow creatures everywhere back in sixty-five, even down here in Florida.”

“We’ll be okay,” I said. “I’ve got a nose for hollows.”

Miss Billie stood a little straighter. “You’re like H?”

“He’s like Abe,” Emma said proudly.

“Don’t know him. But if H trusts you enough to hire you, I guess you know what you’re doin’. And, of course, them boys outside wouldn’t dare follow you into hollow territory. They’d soil their damn undies rather than face those creatures.”

She gave us quick directions: past the garage, down Main Street, right at the courthouse, “And when you feel the pop in your ears, you know you’ve passed through the membrane.”

We thanked her again, but there was no time for long goodbyes. Anyway, most of the Flamingo’s residents were in hiding after the terrifying events of that morning, though a few shouted good luck to us as we curved around the highwaymen’s patrol car and drove out of the forecourt. I couldn’t help thinking that they were the ones who needed luck, and a good deal more, stuck here at the mercy of thugs.

We drove down Main Street. I kept one eye on my mirrors as we went, half expecting to see another old squad car pull into view. When we turned right at the courthouse, I felt my stomach drop and there was a ripple