“The plan is that Winifred will be exposing herself on TV. Her face will be all over the place. So will anyone who goes with her,” Bethi said.
“No,” Charlene said. “We all go. I don’t want to split the group for this. I think that would be bad. I can make people forget the rest of our faces. Just not Winifred’s once it’s broadcast.”
“I’ll be fine,” Winifred said. “I’m more worried about the rest of our people.”
“They should be fine as long as they keep blending in,” Bethi said. “The point of this meeting is to decide which station and then how to get on the air because I doubt anyone will take us seriously if we just walk up and tell them the truth. Plus, we need to figure out our route. According to Gabby, the way north is perfectly clear.”
“They’ve pulled back but are still following us at a distance,” Gabby said. “Occasionally, one will get close, almost as if verifying our location, and then retreat. All netting movement has stopped. There’s a wall of Urbat to the west two states long. The same to the east. It’s as if we’re in an almost empty alley.”
“Almost?”
“There are still clusters of them. It took me a bit to figure it out, but I’m pretty sure they’re guarding the airports, train stations, and bus stations between here and New York.”
That didn’t sound good. Why New York? Because they already knew we were headed that way or because they wanted us to head that way?
“We need to decide this,” Bethi said again. “What station?”
Charlene picked up the remote. “We don’t watch TV often. I wouldn’t even be able to tell you what our local stations are back home.”
She started to surf through channels, pausing at anything that looked like a talk show or morning news.
“Any suggestions on how we can get someone to talk to us once we pick a station?” Bethi asked, looking at everyone.
“When I called the local news station, they agreed to send out a reporter after I said I had money and wanted to donate it,” Michelle said.
“That could work,” Bethi said, looking excited.
“No,” Charlene said. “I’ve got something better.” Conflicting waves of fear and excitement rolled off her.
I followed her gaze and stared at the TV. A woman was speaking. I looked at the newsreel at the bottom of the screen. Penny Alton was reporting a short, feel good piece about a man who’d saved a kid from a train.
“We’re pushing someone in front of a train?” I asked.
“I vote Emmitt,” Jim said quickly.
“Cut it out,” Charlene said, giving Jim a censuring look. “I know her. Penny. She wasn’t Alton back then, though. But I recognize her. And I think, no matter what I have to say, she’ll talk to me.”
Thomas wrapped his arms around Charlene.
The surprised understanding on Bethi’s face as she stared at the reporter had me curious.
“Why?” I asked.
“She knows what I can do. And she hates me for it,” Charlene said, her fear winning over the excitement.
“Is it smart to use her, then?” Winifred asked.
“Yes. Because she will do anything to try to expose me to as many people as she can.”
“Good,” Bethi said. “We have the where and the how. I don’t think we should call her, though, until we reach the city. No sense in giving anyone an advantage.”
“I agree,” Charlene said. She looked so pale.
Winifred clapped her hands together, commanding attention and breaking the mood.
“Let’s pack up and start moving, then. We have a long way to go. Michelle, perhaps your lawyer can help us find somewhere more secure to stay while we’re in New York. Gabby, even though they seem to be hanging back, I want to steer clear of the Urbat.”
Gabby nodded.
I didn’t envy her job. Navigator. Did the girl ever sleep?
Eleven
Most of the morning drive I spent lost in memory. It didn’t hurt to remember my life with Ethan. What ate at me was the realization we wouldn’t be creating new memories.
When the caravan stopped for lunch at a restaurant just outside of yet another town, I was ready for a break from my thoughts.
Inside the place, seeing the long table and watching everyone crowd around it, brought a pang. It didn’t last long. Jim sauntered over and gave me a grin. Sitting in Ethan’s spot, Jim picked up the menu and began making enthusiastic noises as he read. Then, he nudged me as if unaware he’d had my attention the whole time.
“They have a one pound burger.” He tilted his menu to point at the option, then started to read. “This one pound behemoth is grilled to your preference, topped with a slab of deep-fried cheddar, three jumbo onion rings, and enough bacon to grease your arteries.”
He closed the menu. “I’m getting two.”
“Jim,” Charlene said. “Just one.”
He nodded then leaned toward me. “Order the same. I’ll help you finish it.”
He looked at me so earnestly that I nodded.
“Want a beer, too?” he asked hopefully.
“I don’t drink.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” he said with a grin.