Free No Escape by Michelle Gagnon Page A

wasn’t about to get involved with someone else’s vendetta. She was busy enough with her own.
    Sorry, no time .
    A pause, then Vallas typed, It’s important. I can pay you .
    Noa was about to respond that she didn’t need money, then hesitated. Actually, that’s exactly what she needed. But she needed it now. Western Union would ask for some sort of ID before handing over cash; otherwise she’d initiate a transfer from her own account. But based on some of Vallas’s posts, she knew he was a local kid—a couple of times he’d referenced things only a Bostonian would know about. Still, that didn’t necessarily mean she could trust him. Dare she risk it?
    It has to be cash , she typed. Tonight .
    A longer pause before he wrote back, How much?
    A thousand to start .
    I can get you $500 .
    Noa smiled—that would be more than she’d need to get her through the next day. And barring any bank screwups, she’d be able to access her own money again by tomorrow or the day after at the latest.
    Fine , she wrote. Where should we meet?
    Peter signed off and closed the phone. He’d logged on to The Quad with his cell since he figured it would be more secure than using Bob’s computer. At least in theory it would be harder for anyone to access the information, especially since he was on a forum created by some of the best tech minds in the world. The Quad was the online equivalent of a medieval fortress.
    Still, he was nervous about meeting Rain in person. He wasn’t even sure how old Rain was, or if he should expect a male or female. He kind of assumed it would be a guy, based on the /ALLIANCE/ demographic, but these days you never knew. They’d agreed to meet in Back Bay Station by the burrito cart. This late it would probably be deserted.
    He grabbed his ATM card and headed out. It took forty-five minutes to get there, mainly because he had to stop to withdraw the maximum daily amount to pay Rain. Five hundred dollars was a lot to ask for, but Rain was easily one of the best hackers frequenting /ALLIANCE/. Maybe even better than him, he was forced to admit. Plus Peter had the cash. Bob and Priscilla were kind of clueless about money, so his allowance was way more than what most of his friends got.
    Peter was more concerned about how Bob would react if he wasn’t back home by the time they returned, so he drove into town rather than take the T.
    He parked in a lot nearby and sat there for a second. This all felt very cloak-and-dagger, meeting a stranger late at night in a train station for a payoff. A small part of him was thrilled by it all. It had definitely turned out to be a more interesting night than he’d expected.
    He checked his watch; they’d agreed to meet at ten thirty, and it was a little before that. Peter got out of the car and crossed the street to Back Bay Station.
    A few homeless people were huddled near the entrance under makeshift shelters crafted from shopping carts and ragged, smelly blankets. Peter gave them a wide berth and tried to walk with a confident swagger. He wished he’d worn something other than his fleece and jeans; he felt hopelessly conspicuous and out of place. Where he lived was technically part of the city, but in reality it was more of a sheltered suburb. He’d been spending more time in Boston proper since Amanda started school at Tufts, but even then they mainly hung out on campus. This felt different, and Peter was suddenly hyperconscious of the wad of hundreds in his wallet.
    He shook it off, drawing himself up straight. This was Back Bay Station, not some dark alley. There had to be cops around; he just wasn’t seeing any.
    Peter walked in the front doors and stopped. It was cavernous inside, much bigger than he remembered. He had no idea how to find the burrito cart where they were supposed to meet.
    The tiled floor echoed under his feet as he wandered around. He went to a few of the platforms, but only saw a handful of exhausted-looking people, most staring at the