That explains Klaus, I think. His faked death.
I’m so ready to be out of this car. A dozen muscles are killing me from trying to stay still.
“We should take some side roads,” Jovana says. “Probably that do-gooder will be tracking our potential routes by now.”
“All right,” Mark says. He taps the map on his dash screen. “We’ll do a little zigzag.”
We exit the interstate and head along the frontage road a while. Then the car makes a dramatic turn onto a small two-lane highway.
“How much time will we lose?” Jovana asks.
Mark fiddles with the screen. “An hour.”
Jovana rests her head on the back of her seat. “That’s fine. We’ll still get there in time.”
For what? I wonder. And what do they need me for?
I want to ask, but don’t bother. They seem to have forgotten about me for the moment.
A car appears at the crest of the hill ahead, coming at us with incredible speed.
“That’s not civilian,” Mark says. A red alert goes off on his dash.
“Shit, I bet it’s that girl again,” Jovana says. “Can you lose her?”
“Maybe,” Mark says. He guns the car.
Colette’s image and information come on the dash, filling it this time since she’s not on the screen herself.
Colette Rigal
Phase Six Driver
Last Known Location: Missouri Silo
Immediate Commander: Alan Carter
Too bad the car won’t listen to my commands anymore. I’d make it stop.
Colette blows past us. I turn to see where she goes, but the laser grid zaps me in twenty places. “Ouch!” I shout.
Jovana laughs. “You don’t learn very fast, do you?”
“Is the car coming around?” Mark asks. His eyes are on the rearview mirror.
Jovana swivels in her seat. “Yes. She’s turning.”
“Damn. She’s a Phase Six,” Mark says. “She can outmaneuver me in a heartbeat.”
I’ll say. I remember how she was able to cut me off when I was walking. She can turn that car on a dime.
Trees and driveways whip by us as we fly along the narrow highway. It’s rural here, plantation country, but there are vehicles on the road. Mark’s car deftly swerves around a tractor and two pickup trucks.
“Did we lose her?” Jovana asks, peering out the back window.
“Hardly,” Mark says. “She’s gaining.”
We whip around two more cars. One of them blares a horn at our speed.
