Marcus scanned for a B, but now they were on a stretch of empty road with no signs. He leaned his head against the glass of the window and wondered if they were going to get breakfast. Arroz con pollo was rice with chicken. There was a car behind them, following too close.
Then the car had pulled alongside them. The road they were on had only two lanes, and it was dangerous to pass. But the car wasn’t passing. It was a Jeep with an open top, and Marcus looked straight into the eyes of the driver.
“It’s him!” he cried.
Oscar must have seen Raúl at the same moment, because they shot forward, leaving the Jeep behind. Isabel grabbed Marcus’s hand.
They sped down the road, but the Jeep caught up. A car came at them in the opposite direction, and Raúl dropped back to let it by. There was a long, annoyed, receding honk from the other car. When the road ahead was empty, the Jeep pulled alongside them again.
“Go faster!” Marcus shouted.
“I can’t!” Oscar said.
Marcus leaned forward and looked across Isabel to see if his sister was okay. June sat clutching the bunny, looking terrified, the alphabet forgotten.
Raúl was shouting something at them from the Jeep. Then Marcus saw him waving something.
“He has a gun!” Marcus shouted.
June screamed.
“Hijo de puta,” Oscar said.
Another car was coming toward them. Oscar swerved to the shoulder, and Raúl fell back, to let the car go by. But the Jeep was faster than their little red car, and was beside them again. Marcus ducked, and heard the crash of glass. He put his hands over his ears. June screamed again. Oscar’s window was out. Raúl had actually shot at them. A man had shot a gun at them, like in a movie. Marcus revised the seriousness of everything in his mind.
Raúl sideswiped them, and Oscar fought to keep the car on the road. Then he swerved toward the Jeep, clipping off its mirror. Marcus heard another shot.
The two cars approached a blind curve together. As they rounded it, a truck came toward them. There was a blaring horn and squealing brakes. Marcus still had his hands over his ears. Oscar spun the wheel, and the car flew sideways. Then they were rolling off the road. It was too loud. Things were crunching and crashing. The world spun. There were trees. Bright, dark, bright. Isabel was flung against Marcus, and Marcus was flung against her. Then everything stopped, and was silent. Marcus, hanging upside-down in his seatbelt, wondered if he was still alive.
Isabel said something in Spanish under her breath. Her hair hung toward the ceiling, which was now the floor.
“Are you okay?” Marcus asked her.
She nodded. He opened his door, unbuckled his seatbelt carefully, and rolled out. He went around to his sister. He couldn’t get her door open, but her window was gone. Sebastian looked okay.
“Where’s the bunny?” June cried.
“We’ll find him,” he said. “Climb out through the window.”
In the front seat, Penny unbuckled her seatbelt and landed on her head, saying, “Ow!”
Marcus was afraid that Oscar might be dead. Raúl would come with his gun, and there would be no one to save them.
But Oscar was breathing, hanging upside-down in his seatbelt with his eyes closed. He moaned when Marcus touched his shoulder through the broken window. There was a bloody spot on his forehead and little scratches on his cheek. His glasses hung crooked on his face.
“Oscar? Wake up.”
Oscar opened his eyes and looked around. Then he closed them.
Marcus shook his shoulder again. “We have to get out.”
“Where’s Raúl?” Oscar’s voice was hoarse.
“I don’t know.”
“I found the bunny!” June said. “He’s okay!”
Marcus tugged at Oscar’s door until it opened, and Oscar unbuckled his seatbelt and did a bad somersault out of the car. He straightened his glasses, then rubbed his head and cursed. Blood came away on his hand.
They were surrounded by trees, but somehow they hadn’t hit one. The Jeep was also upside-down, closer to the road. Oscar limped toward it, and Marcus followed him. The other kids hung back.
The Jeep’s windshield had shattered. Marcus squatted down and saw Raúl’s upside-down face staring at him, tilted grotesquely, with part of his forehead scraped off so his eye socket was bare and bloody. One of the eyeballs was hanging out.
Marcus felt a hand on his shoulder and he lurched back.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Oscar was saying.
“It’s not!” Marcus said. “It’s not!” He had imagined seeing a dead body before, but he hadn’t thought it would look like that. He started to hyperventilate.
“Shh,” Oscar whispered.
“He’s dead!” Marcus said. “His face!”
“I know.”
Marcus heard a noise and jerked around, expecting to see Raúl’s twisted body, staggering up behind him like a zombie. Instead he saw Isabel. “I want to see,” she said.
“Don’t!”
“I have to.”
Isabel moved toward the Jeep and crouched down to look in the window at Raúl. Marcus held his breath, picturing that bloody eye socket. His sister was walking toward him with hesitant steps.
“Don’t look,” he said.
“I want to see, too!”
“No you don’t.” He held her back.
“I’m not afraid!” June said.
The others were drawing closer.
“Can I see?” Penny asked.
“No,” Oscar said. “We have to get out of here.”
“Why?” Penny asked. “Raúl is dead, right?”
“There’s still his father,” Oscar said. “And George. They’ll come after us. We know too much.” He limped back to the red car and reached in through the window to pull out his backpack.
“How did Raúl find us?” Marcus asked. “Did he track your phone?”
Oscar fumbled with his phone, tore the back of it open, and took out the battery and the little card. His hands were shaking. He bent the card in half and threw it into the trees.
Isabel watched it go. “You said there was only one road to the capital,” she said. “It was easy to find us.”
Marcus realized that was probably true. He shouldn’t have said anything about the phone. Now Isabel would hold the destroying of it against him. “We could hitchhike to the embassy,” he said.
“We’re not hitchhiking,” Oscar said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You could have let us call our parents,” Isabel said.
“We haven’t had breakfast,” Penny said.
“I don’t know what to do about any of that, okay?”
They all stared at him.
“I’m sorry,” Oscar said. “We have to go.”
“Do you have sunscreen?” Penny asked, squinting up at the climbing sun.
“No,” he snapped. “Let’s go.”
30.
LIV WOKE, AMBIEN-GROGGY, with only a vague sense of dread and foreboding. Something was beeping, and her heart started to race. She sat up to listen. The beeping was outside in the hotel hallway, and then it passed by. It wasn’t the right tone for Sebastian’s glucose monitor. It was someone carrying some other device. The memories came flooding back, and the pain.
She reached for her phone and peered at the blurry screen. It didn’t used to be so blurry. She’d gotten old, in the last few days. No messages. 7:00 A.M.
She pressed her hands into her eyes and wished she could go back to the unconscious forgetting. She needed coffee. There was a club room on the top floor of the hotel, with food. She pulled on clothes at random and took the elevator up, reading the engraved panel with the emergency instructions in English: IF THE ELEVATOR DOORS FAIL TO OPEN, DO NOT BECOME ALARMED.
PLEASE USE BUTTON MARKED “ALARM” TO SUMMON HELP.
She remembered the first time Penny had pointed out the instructions in the elevator at the UCLA Medical Center and explained how funny and contradictory they were. Liv remembered the building because Sebastian had been having big blood sugar swings, and was leaning exhausted against her hip, so the elevator advice had seemed particularly poignant and impossible.
In the club room, she surveyed the coffee and pastries. It was a pale imitation of the ship’s buffet, but it would have been very useful for feeding children. Penny would have loved the tall Plexiglas cylinders of cereal, the little knob to fill your bowl. Sebastian would have peeled himself a hard-boiled egg.
Camila came in, looking haggard and tired. She no longer looked like she’d stepped out of a glossy ad for the cruise ship.
“Coffee?” Liv asked.