“Because he trusted me not to abuse it.” Liam turned a bitter smile on him. “What, you didn’t get a lesson?”
The look Cole shot back was even colder than Liam’s words had been. The fingers on his right hand gave a small spasm before he could tuck his hand into the back pocket of his pants.
“God. Even Stewart family drama is boring,” Clancy said sullenly. “I thought we were in a hurry?”
“We are.” I turned to Liam. “Did that car have any gas in it?”
He nodded. “Enough to get us a hundred miles, I’d guess.”
“Grand,” Cole said, “except we’re not taking that one. There’s a tan SUV over there that has your name on it.”
Liam turned, took one look at it, and shook his head. “It’s a gas-guzzler. They’re top-heavy and more likely to roll in an accident—”
His brother silenced him by holding up his hand and pressing his fingers together in such a condescending way, it pissed me off, too. “Are you planning on getting into an accident? Then shut the hell up and do what I tell you—”
“You don’t get to make that call—”
“Yes I do! I’m in charge here, whether you like it or not. I’m the one that’s been out in the field. I’m the one that’s going to get us out of here. And I’m the one telling you to pick yourself a SUV in case we have to take it off the road.”
Liam took a step forward. “If we have to go off-road, we’re pretty much screwed anyway. I’d rather have a car that won’t devour gas.” He glanced my way, tilting his head in a silent back me up. I bit my lip, shaking my head. Not this fight. This one wasn’t worth it. Cole was making quick strides back in our direction from a nearby red pickup truck, and nothing was going to turn him from it.
All those months ago, when it had just been the four of us in a minivan making our way along back roads, siphoning gas from other cars like vultures picking the last stringy pieces of meat off bones, we’d functioned on two simple principles: move fast, don’t get seen. For better or worse, most of our decisions had been gut reactions, and I wasn’t about to pretend we hadn’t made some questionable choices, but it was the only way we knew how to live and survive—it was how all of us freak kids had to scrape by, whether it was to avoid camps or skip tracers. And looking at Cole now, at the irritation sweeping over his features, it was never more obvious to me that he knew almost nothing about what his brother’s life had been like after Liam escaped the League’s training program. He was one of us by technicality, but outside of witnessing the cruel treatment of the kids in Leda’s psionic research program, he’d never been forced to adapt to our reality.
They’d already fought about the driving arrangements earlier that morning, saving us a little time now. I spared one last glance at the three figures piling into Cole’s chosen SUV before tugging Clancy in the direction of the red truck Cole gestured to.
It felt strange to not have all of us piled into one car, but I understood Cole’s reasoning immediately, even if Liam didn’t. It was the same reason I’d basically had the sole pleasure of babysitting Clancy over the past two weeks, feeding him, and dealing with his wounded ego. If I drove, the other Orange had less of a chance of commandeering the car because I could block him out. If one of the others was driving, it would only be a matter of time before Clancy slid into their thoughts and took control. I could see it happening as clearly as if the kid had planted the scene in my mind.
I would have preferred Cole in the other car, too, but that had been non-negotiable. The fact that it was just as likely for Clancy to hijack his mind, and command him to use his gun or knife on me, hadn’t seemed to occur to him.
The gas tank was half full and the engine already hot-wired and running. Cole had snapped Clancy’s zip ties off and attached new ones, so his hands could both rest in his lap and be hooked through the seat belt, and his feet could be bound to one of the bars running under the seat. Cole pulled the pillowcase over the kid’s head.
It was just a matter of taking a deep breath and shifting the truck out of park. I looked up one last time at the skeleton of a city caught in my rearview mirror and tightened my hands on the steering wheel.
We were finally leaving that terrible place, and what we’d buried there.
Twenty minutes of driving, however, made a few things crystal clear: the truck didn’t have working air conditioning, its owner’s body odor had been absorbed into the faux-leather seats, and, yes, my window was broken.
To my right, Clancy had bent over at the waist, and was either sleeping or trying to subtly rub the pillowcase against his legs to pull it off. Cole, just to his right, was scanning the passing streets. The early afternoon light stood out in sharp contrast to the dark smudges beneath his eyes. It was like now that he was still, not rushing around or barking out orders, his body had finally settled into its aches and exhaustion. He rolled his shoulders back against the press of the seat belt and grimaced.
Cole had shown me where we were headed on a map—a town called Lodi, a little ways south of Sacramento. If we’d been able to take the freeway, it would have been a straight shot up the coast, five hours max. Less than that, if flights and trains had still been operational, and Gray hadn’t ordered ships to patrol the Pacific coast.
I looked back over my shoulder to the SUV behind us. Liam must have been waiting for it, because he lifted his hand in a reassuring wave. In the front passenger seat beside him, Chubs was going on and on about something, his hands waving to emphasize each word. The sight was familiar and comforting enough to almost chase away the strangeness of the city around us.