He drove as if the road belonged to him, hands had turned white at the steering wheel, his knuckles mapping the new edges of a life gone sideways. The city bled into gray as the sky leaned low and watchful. Victor kept his eyes under the rim of his cap, he couldn't risk being seen by anyone, that was the only thing on his mind as he drove through the city.
checkpoints had been placed almost everywhere and he was only lucky to be able to get past a view. he was sure Terry was searching for him already, probably already told Clara that he left. he didn't care.
The car smelled of fuel and the damp cotton of his shirt. He'd taken far more than the passport and cash; he'd taken the way out Clara had tried to buy for him and turned it into something else, leverage, perhaps, or simply proof that he would not be caged again. He had not gone where she wanted. He'd made a map of his own way. he was no longer going to be used by her without getting anything in return..
