Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(26)

I reached the end of the aisle where it intersected with Machinery Hall’s main transept and lifted my skirt to join the flow of visitors.

But something whispered in the back of my mind. The nagging sense of eyes watching me from behind.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Daniel, his face now shaded by a gray flat cap, and a full, lumpy satchel leaned against his legs. When our eyes met, he spun his face away and focused intently on locking the laboratory door. I whisked my head around, scurried into the crowd, and moved from his view.

That had been an enormous bag—it had practically reached his thighs. What was in it? And where was he going with it?

I can follow him. I can find out.

I swerved from the throng of visitors and pressed myself against the nearest exhibit: a sleek locomotive. It gleamed in the morning sun and bathed me in ethereal light. A boiling thrill at my decision tingled over me. Sweat beaded on my skin.

I slunk left along the locomotive and craned my neck to peer around the shiny engine. Daniel marched into my view, hunched over with the sack hoisted on his back. And something poked from the sack—something that made my heart slam into my ribs.

It was the tip of a boot.

I lurched back. A boot. A heavy bag. I pressed my hands to my face and tried to breathe over my heart. It felt as if it rammed against my lungs with each beat. Oh God—what did I just see?

I inched around the engine once more, and this time Daniel was at the exit. He trudged through the building’s eastern door while people parted and streamed around him. It was now or never. I had to go while I still held a chance for pursuit.

I steeled myself and then surged through the oncoming people. They weren’t as willing to move from my path as they’d been for Daniel, but soon enough I reached the entrance and scrambled into the bright sun. I saw no sign of the sandy-haired boy in the crowded plaza. I scanned for the bulky sack and his gray flat cap. Nothing.

Then the satchel bounced at the edge of my vision. The Bartholdi Fountain had hidden him from view. He was already on the other side of the exit gates! How could he move so fast with such a... such a... I refused to think the word.

I scooted after him, but by the time I entered the mass of people outside the Exhibition, he was boarding a black hackney. I shoved toward the lines of waiting carriages, all the while keeping my eyes locked on the one that now carried Daniel.

I had a handful of coins in my pocket, so when I arrived at the first hackney for hire, I waved for the driver’s attention and darted into the concourse. Before the driver could climb down from his seat, I shouted, “Stay there! I can get in alone.”

A frantic search showed Daniel’s carriage leaving the concourse. I clambered into the buggy and pointed. “That way. I’ll tell you where to go once we’re out.”

He nodded, and with a flick of the reins, jolted the horse into a rattling chase. I plopped down and shaded my eyes. My heart throbbed in my throat, and the tip of the boot flashed in my mind.

Then I spotted the black hackney. “Turn right at Girard,” I yelled up.

“Yes’m.”

We clopped down the avenue and onto the Girard Avenue Bridge. It was packed with carriages, and I lost sight of Daniel’s hackney.

I stood in my seat, my knees wobbling with the movement of the wheels. Though the breeze of the river whipped at the ribbons of my bonnet, it offered no relief to the scorching sweat that dripped down my back.

“Oi, miss!” snapped the driver. “Sit down!”

I glanced behind. “Do you see a black hackney?” I pointed ahead of us.

“Yeah—about twenty. Sit down. It’s not safe if you want to go fast.” As if to prove his point, we suddenly veered right, and I tumbled sideways. I clutched at the edge of the cab and slid to the end of my seat. I tried to peek around the powerful horse before me, but my view was only obstructed by other horses.

Oh, please don’t tell me I’ve lost him already. Oh, please, please.

We crossed the river, and the end of the bridge came into sight—but no black hackney. Daniel could go anywhere in the city now, and I wouldn’t be able to see. I puffed out a breath of frustration. I was so sure I’d almost uncovered something about the Spirit-Hunters. Something significant.

And then there it was, below the bridge! Daniel’s tanned face was focused straight ahead as his hackney trotted by—in the opposite direction. It traveled along a tree-lined leisure path parallel to Girard Avenue. How had it gotten there so fast?

“There!” I bolted up and pointed wildly below. “There—we must go there!”

“Then sit down. Now!”

We jerked left, and I fell sideways into the seat. As we catapulted through the oncoming traffic, drivers shouted their fury and horses whinnied. Then, in a bone-jarring bounce, we clattered off the bridge and onto the dirt path.

The reins pulled back and we slowed to a steady trot. I jumped up once more.

“This is too slow,” I declared. Bonnet ribbons slapped my face. “You must go faster.”

“I can’t, miss.” He wiped his brow and glared down at me. “This is for slow traffic only.”

“B-but...”

“But nothin’.” He scowled and stroked his beard. “You know, Miss, followin’ someone costs double fare.”

“Oh.” I gulped. Of course he was lying, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t pretend that I wasn’t pursuing the other hackney, and I couldn’t hope to find another driver this far into the chase. I just had to hope I had enough money. “All right then. Double fare.”