“Ready?” said Theo.
“Wait,” said Diana. She placed her hand on his shoulder. She didn’t know what he could accomplish with that little computer, but just in case he was feeling hostile toward Nim, she wanted him as calm as possible. From the sheepish look he cast her, the gesture was warranted.
His thumbs sped over the screen, and a moment later the car roared to life.
Theo broke out in a dance that looked like it might cause lasting damage to his spine and did a victory lap around the car. “Who’s the king?”
Nim cast Alia a meaningful glance and whispered, “You have terrible taste.”
“Whatever,” said Alia. “Shotgun!”
Diana seized Alia and slammed her to the ground, shoving her body beneath the car for cover. She rose with bracelets raised, ready for the onslaught, but the others were just standing there staring.
“Um, Diana,” said Alia, peeking out from beneath the Fiat. “It’s just a saying.”
Diana felt her face heat.
“Of course,” she said, helping Alia up and dusting her off. Jason’s expression was bemused, and Theo’s whole body was shaking with laughter. “Naturally. And it means?”
“When you call shotgun, you get the seat next to the driver.”
“Why?”
“It’s just a rule,” said Alia.
“It’s from the Old West,” said Nim. “On a stagecoach, there was the driver, and the guy who rode next to him carried a shotgun in case they were attacked.”
“Or in case someone started spouting useless trivia and had to be murdered,” said Theo.
“Go stand in front of the car.”
It did take some time to negotiate where everyone would sit. Eventually, Jason took the passenger seat, and Diana squashed in between Alia and Theo in the back, her knees nearly up to her chin—that way she was ready to protect Alia if need be, and Nim and Theo were separated as much as possible.
To preserve the battery life of Theo’s phone for controlling the car, they used the old-fashioned map folded up in the glove compartment and picked out a route that took them south via side roads and narrow byways. It also occasionally trapped them behind a slow-moving cart drawn by mules, or required that they stop to let a herd of bandy-legged goats cross the road.
Despite the need for haste, Diana almost welcomed the pauses from Nim’s reckless pace.
“She has a much different style than Dez,” she murmured to Alia, thinking longingly of the smooth way the black town car had passed through traffic.
Theo moaned as they jolted against a divot, the Fiat’s tires momentarily losing touch with the road.
“Maybe she’s just trying to kill me slowly,” he speculated, looking a bit green.
They turned on the radio, flipping through the channels, until they found something that sounded like the news. Jason and Alia’s Greek wasn’t good enough to follow the rapid-fire conversation, but Diana understood it all. There were reports of more conflicts across the globe, another bloody coup attempt, world leaders issuing angry threats, but eventually the speaker mentioned the crash.
“The wreckage of the plane hasn’t been identified yet,” she translated. “There are reports of several casualties, but the bodies haven’t been identified, either.” Bodies. Again she thought of Ben. She remembered what Jason had said about living on in memory. At least she could do that for the pilot who had stood by her so bravely.
“It’s just a matter of time before they identify the aircraft,” said Jason, his eyes trained on the passing scenery.
“Everyone’s going to think we’re dead,” said Theo.
“Oh God,” said Nim. “My parents must be worried sick. They knew I was at that party with you guys.”
For the first time, Diana wondered what her mother would think when she found her daughter missing from the island. Grief? Anger? Diana might never have a chance to explain what she’d done.
She reached forward and gave Nim’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll be back with them soon.”
“Yeah,” said Nim, her voice a little shaky.
“My dad’s going to be so disappointed to find out I’m alive,” said Theo.
“That isn’t true,” Jason said.
“And it’s a crap thing to say,” added Alia, the echo of old grief in her words.
Theo ran a thumb over the shiny knee of his pants. “You’re right.”
“Did anyone even know we were on that jet?” asked Nim, taking another corner so fast she veered into the opposing lane and had to jerk the wheel back.
“I’m not sure,” said Jason, only gradually releasing his death grip on the door handle. “We didn’t exactly file the appropriate papers when we left New York.”
“But they’ll know it’s a Keralis jet,” Alia said.
“So be it,” said Jason.
“But the board—”
“The board will do what it’s going to do,” said Jason, shoulders stiff. “The company will survive. Our parents built Keralis Labs on innovation. If they lock us out, we’ll just keep innovating.” Diana wasn’t sure if Jason believed his own words, but she did. She could hear the iron in his voice.
They saw no police and there were no indications that they were being followed, but Diana remained watchful as they steadily tacked southward. They stopped once to fill the Fiat’s tank with gasoline, the rest of them watching through the window as Jason approached the attendant, whose gestures and angry exclamations made it clear he wouldn’t accept American money. Jason turned away from the attendant, scrunching his fist, frustration radiating in every line of his body, and for a moment Diana thought he might strike the man. Instead, he unslung his watch from his wrist and handed it over.
“That belonged to our dad,” Alia said quietly.
The attendant’s demeanor changed instantly. He disappeared into the little store while Jason filled the tank, then emerged with his arms full of potato chips and bottled soda, and a big plastic jug of water that he shoved through the open window at them. Diana wasn’t sure if the water was for them or the little car’s radiator as they crossed the mountains. A few minutes later they were back on the road.
Jason stared straight ahead, and Diana saw him touch his fingers briefly to his now-bare wrist.
“Jason,” Alia said tentatively.
He gave a short, sharp shake of his head. “Don’t.”
They drove on in silence, but after only a few miles had sped by Nim pulled to a halt by the side of the road where several cars were parked, their drivers somewhere down on the beaches below.
“Why are we stopping?” asked Diana. They still had until sunset the next day to get to the spring, but the farther they could get from their pursuers, the happier she’d be.
“We should switch the plates,” said Nim. “The license plates. That guy at the gas station is going to remember us. We don’t want this car matching up with a missing Fiat.”
“Or we could borrow another car,” Theo suggested.
“No,” said Nim. “We steal a car, it gets reported, we’re back on the grid, and they know which way we’re headed. But no one pays attention to license plates. They won’t notice the change until we’re long gone, if they notice at all.”
Alia leaned forward and gave Nim a tight hug over the back of the seat. “You’re brilliant.”
Nim beamed. “How much do you love me?”
“So much.”
“How much?” hissed Nim.
Diana saw her fingers dig deeply into the flesh of Alia’s arms. They were black talons, her arms corded with muscle. A stench filled the car, the dusty smell of decay. “If you loved me, you would let me kill him. You would let me kill them all.”
“Nim!” Alia cried out, trying to pull away.
“Let go of her!” Jason grabbed Nim’s wrist, then recoiled, his hand seared an angry red.
“I see you, Daughter of Earth,” said Eris. Hollow black eyes deep as wells met Diana’s in the rearview mirror. “You and your sisters have evaded our grasp far too long.”
Diana shifted to launch herself forward, but Theo grabbed her arm.