Julie Guile stepped off the ship with her head bowed, trying to look inconspicuous. She walked faster and faster, finally breaking into a run away from the ship.
No wonder, she murmured silently.
Countless vessels were arriving at the port, and throngs of people were disembarking. The shouts of dockworkers unloading cargo and of bustling sailors hard at work filled the air. There were travelers departing on transoceanic voyages, accompanied by their families who had come to see them off. Porters were carrying luggage on and off the ships. The air was alive with the clamor of a typical morning at the docks.
Julie blended in unnoticed among the hubbub, attempting to disappear into the crowd. The policemen had told her not to leave, of course, but she had no intention of listening to them. She slipped into the morning crush of people, walking briskly away. Now that she had left the ship, the woman known as Julie Guile existed no more. All she needed to do was escape into the city, and she wouldn’t be found again.
But Julie didn’t notice the men trailing her—two men holding hands, skipping along, wearing matching rabbit-skin hunting caps. As she walked, she murmured to herself, “No wonder. You did that back then, too, didn’t you….”
Tears blurred her vision.
Her memories came rushing back.
No, “memory” was too kind of a word.
It was a nightmare. A night like a bad dream…
Isn’t that right, Huey? You tricked us….
A hound released into a drove of hares—Huey, or rather, Ned Baxter…
So that’s how you played dead back then!