Nobody Knows What You Are
5. Nobody Knows What You Are
And so Faith ran. Again. With no plan, no Watcher, no destiny, she ran. Next morning she wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed to dodge the cops, but she got on her bike (bought for cash, no questions asked, figuring if she got stopped the name on the registration and her lack of a license really wouldn't be the issue) and left Cleveland behind.
Over the next couple of days, she stayed on the small roads, working her way West – slowly and aimlessly at first, but unmistakably West. She was halfway to LA before it struck her that she was halfway to
LA; for what felt like the first time in a long time, it didn't feel like she was running from
something. When she pulled over for the night, she lay awake on her motel bed thinking about that for a long while. It was like... everything that had gone before had played out. People had been telling her bullshit for years, telling her what she was, what road she had to take, and none of it had held up; as much as it hurt, there was a weird kind of freedom in that thought, like she could find her own way. Maybe that was good enough for now.
So why LA? Was that even where she was headed? There seemed to be dozens of possible answers, and none of them felt completely wrong. There were still demons in LA. There were still clubs in LA. There might even still be vampires with souls in LA, and if there was, they were going to get their asses kicked for not letting her know. If there wasn't... fuck it. You gotta be someplace. She'd make up a reason why when she got there.
In the meantime, she liked being on the move. The old bike wasn't the most low-profile way to travel, but she liked the way it responded; no electronics, just all power straight onto the tarmac and her hands on the handlebars, every little bump in the road going straight up her arms. Plus, hey, big vibrating engine between her legs didn't suck. She had to stay alert; one mistake and she'd be spread across three counties... but at least it would be her own mistake.
She rode across the plains of Nebraska as the sun slowly sank ahead of her. She hadn't checked her map for a while, figuring she knew the general direction. For the last few miles she'd been cruising in the slipstream behind a big semi truck, but since she hadn't seen a cop in a while she pulled into the oncoming lane and gunned the bike, overtaking the trucker like he stood still. The engine growled like a beast let out of its cage, the sky lay open in front of her, and when she came to a fork in the road she took it.