Ever since
the enthralled henchmen of a succubus had ransacked my home and office, I had
obsessively kept go bags throughout the city and in my car. I knew it was a bit
paranoid and reminiscent of something out of a spy movie, but I had needed to
fall back on them from time-to-time. Unlike spies, though, I didn’t keep stores
of munitions and passports with wads of cash.
I kept my
materials more modest with a little cash, enough for a plane or bus ticket, an
emergency credit card, some clothes and necessities. I focused more on my
ability to get away from the supernatural elements that might want me dead than
on confronting it. Spy movies made a big deal out of stockpiles of weapons and
explosives in order to take the fight to the enemy, but I had no illusions. If
I ever reached a point where I needed one of these bags, it was because there’s
no way to win, and a direct fight is always the last resort.
And today,
in between checking on some cases, I checked up on each of the go bags and paid
up for the locker storage at the airports and bus terminals. I opened up the
locker at the airport, rummaged through for everything, and paused. Not for the
first time, nor for the last, I thought about going.
I had made
a lot of enemies over the years, many of whom would be around for decades if
not centuries. They knew how to carry a grudge. They knew how to get revenge
and how to strike out. I had a little bit of protection through Nikki, but that
could change and be circumvented.
I looked at
the destination board, eyeing first Hawaii, then Southeast Asia. I could
disappear. I could reinvent myself in some tropical paradise; take up a simple
life as a fisherman or whatever. I knew how to stay out of the spotlight, but
it would mean leaving behind friends and family.
I closed the locker, content I
could hold off the urge to run for another day.