Incarnate: Mars Origin "I" Series Book III by Abby L. Vandiver Read Free Book Online Page A

over to the window. I could see up a
block or so on Euclid Avenue. I looked on the opposite side of the street.
“Potbelly’s. That sounds good. I wonder would Micah like that. Oh. There’s
Barnes & Noble,” I spoke out loud. “They have a small café in there I think
. . . Oh, I think there’s a Jimmy John’s on this side of -” I stopped
mid-sentence.
    There
they were. The men that I thought were following me.
    The
ones that were following me.
    I
swiped my hand over my brow and back over the curls of my hair.
    “Omigoodness.”
    Standing
by the car parked on the street almost in front of the museum, the three men
were huddled together. One appeared to be on a cell phone and one of the others
kept peering over his should watching the museum.
    He’s trying to make sure I don’t escape.
    “Micah.”
I whispered, “What if they come in after Micah?”
    I
licked my lips and swiped my hands down the leg of my pants to get rid of the
sweat that had covered my palms. I felt my knees starting to give out on me and
I went back to sit on the bench.
    What was I going to do?
    I
puckered my lips, filled my cheeks with air and blew it out. I could hear my
heartbeat in my ears. I tried to steady my breath, which had started coming
erratically. I let out a loud moan. Sitting here was only going to get me
caught.
    Caught? And then what would they do with me?
To me?
    “Omigoodness.”
    I
got up and went back to the window. Just as I got there they broke up the
huddle, one went around the car to the driver’s side and got in. The other two
headed toward the museum.
    Me
coming in here and bringing Micah was not a good idea.
    The
door they were headed toward was the one closest to the elevator. And the one
closest to the MOCA Store where Micah was waiting for me.
    I
glanced in at Johanna. She was still talking to the artist. I couldn’t interrupt
her. I ran to the stairs. They were steep, gray concrete steps. I guess that
they were meant as artwork as well. Contemporary artwork and not a means of
escape. I ran down a flight and it led me nowhere. There was no room or space
to use as a place to hide. I kept going.
    Would they really try to hurt me in here?
    “Oh
my goodness.” I could hardly keep my balance on the steps. I stumbled and
almost fell several times. There were no banister to hang on to, just a waist
high wall that encased the steps. Standing on the landing going to the first
floor I could see the door that me and Micah had come in only minutes ago. I
was breathing hard, biting my lip and wondering if I could make it to that
door.
    But
then where would I go? I didn’t know, but I had to try.
    And
what about Micah?
    Maybe they had already done something to him.
    I
shook that thought from my head. They wanted me. Of that I was sure. They
wouldn’t bother him.
    I
took in a deep breath and headed down the steps as fast as I could move my
little feet and overweight frame. As I neared the bottom of the steps I saw
someone coming in the glass doors. Good , I thought, now I won’t have
to take the time to pull the door open. I can slide right out.
    I
would get out of the museum, try to make it over to University Hospital’s
campus, which was only a half a block away and where I could easily get lost or
seek help if I had to from their security. There I could call Micah and tell
him to get away to safety.
    It
was the best plan.
    Or
so I thought.
    I
got to the last step, and on my way to try and slip out of the door that was no
more than ten feet away, I turned and looked directly into the eyes of the
short, burly guy.
    “Oh
shoot.” I choked the words out.
    I
hopped through the door and started running in the opposite way of the
hospital. Don’t ask me why. That’s just the way I went. Down the street toward the parked car, toward the place where those men had just emerged. I stopped,
started to turn the other way, stopped again and turned back to continue the
way I had started. I heard Micah yell for me. He was coming