Breaking Creed

16

Amanda tried not to grip her stomach. Zapata had already stared darts at her as she led the way through the baggage claim area. Today Amanda’s stomach hurt even worse. Leandro had promised that this would be the last time, if only she followed his strict instructions.

The only thing Amanda could think about was that one of the balloons had certainly burst open. It had to have. There was no other explanation for the pain in her stomach. Something was ripping away inside her. And once again, Leandro wasn’t here. Nowhere in sight. He had left her to Zapata’s care, and Zapata’s patience had obviously been used up on the last trip.

She waited by the restroom door while the old woman weaved her way through the crowd, attempting to retrieve their luggage. The designer suitcase was packed with belongings that Amanda rarely needed or used. It was all just another part of the disguise, because passengers traveling without luggage drew attention. It didn’t matter if the suitcase continued to look brand-new and never got unpacked.

Amanda sat on a bench against the wall. Sweat dripped from her bangs. She had pulled back her stringy hair but her bangs needed trimming and were constantly falling into her eyes. They didn’t fall now. Instead, they were plastered to her forehead.

She tried to get her mind off the nausea. She used to enjoy watching strangers in airports, making up stories about them, guessing where they were going or where they’d been. Now she saw only faces staring at her, faces that pretended to look away when she caught them. She knew Leandro had spies everywhere. He’d told her so.

Alongside the bench she noticed a newspaper machine. Lately she’d gotten into the habit of reading them through the glass to check the date. Too many hours and days spent in hotel rooms made her lose track of time. But she didn’t even look at the date in the corner. Instead, her eyes fixed on the front-page photo. She recognized the man and his dog from the television talk show: Ryder Creed and Grace. His name sounded like a movie star’s name.

She was reading the article when out of the corner of her eye she saw something running toward her. At first, Amanda thought her stomach pain might be making her hallucinate. How else could she explain the little dog coming her way with the man from the newspaper following close behind?

Her heart started thumping in her ears. Her eyes darted in the direction that Zapata had gone. The old woman was at the conveyor, waiting for the suitcase and glancing over her shoulder to check on Amanda. She hadn’t noticed the man and the dog. They were zigzagging around people and luggage, but somehow Amanda knew the dog was headed straight for her.

She stood on wobbly knees and braced one hand against the bench to steady herself. The man wasn’t dressed in a uniform. Instead he wore blue jeans, a T-shirt, and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the tails out, and the buttons undone. His jaw was bristled and his hair tousled. He looked nothing like an airport officer — too young, too casual, way too hot.

He hadn’t noticed her and was still looking around, trying to figure out where his dog was leading him. He hadn’t realized yet that Amanda was the dog’s target.

Drugs, Amanda remembered from the talk show and the few lines she had just read.

Holy crap!

Now she remembered from the TV show. The dog sniffed out drugs. It was headed directly toward her. Could it smell the drugs inside her?

Was that even possible?

She took a few steps and felt dizzy. Glanced back toward Zapata and saw that the old woman had turned and was watching her.

Amanda looked around while the baggage claim area tilted and the floor started to move. Not far away a security officer questioned a man with a cast on his leg. People stepped around them, hurrying to gather their belongings. Everyone seemed in such a rush.

The dog was closer. Less than twenty feet away. Zapata had started back, stopping for a stream of people going by, and Amanda could see the old woman didn’t even have the suitcase. One last look and she could see the anger on Zapata’s face. That’s when Amanda waited for the man with the dog to meet her eyes, and when he did, Amanda willed her feet to move — one in front of the other.

Hurry, she told herself.

The path cleared and she called out, “Uncle Ryder,” as she rushed past the dog and practically fell into the man’s arms. Her heart was pounding against her rib cage as she threw her arms tight around his neck and held on.

“Please save me,” she whispered in his ear.