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"What are you, Greta Garbo?"
"I'm serious."
"You need me to look out for you. You can't make it on your own. Hell, you can't even remember how old you are."
Pete had a desperate look in his eyes, but Luke was unmoved. "I appreciate your concern, but you're not helping me find out who I am."
After a moment Pete shrugged. "You got a right." He turned to the door again. "See you around, maybe."
"Maybe."
Pete went out. Luke shook Pastor Lonegan's hand. "Thank you for everything," he said.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," said the pastor.
Luke went up the stairs and out into the street. Pete was on the next block, speaking to a man in a green gaberdine raincoat with a matching cap - begging the price of a beer, Luke guessed. He walked in the opposite direction and turned around the first corner.
It was still dark. Luke's feet were cold, and he realized he was not wearing socks under his boots. As he hurried on, a light flurry of snow fell. After a few minutes, he eased his pace. He had no reason to rush. It made no difference whether he walked fast or slow. He stopped and took shelter in a doorway.
He had nowhere to go.
Reprinted from Code Zero by Ken Follett by permission of E. P. Dutton, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc. Copyright (c) 2000 by Ken Follett. All rights reserved. This excerpt, or any parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
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