Inside the Louisville International Airport, I paused in front of a news kiosk and read a few headlines.
EARTHQUAKE SHAKES ANTARCTICA
TORNADO HITS INDIA
BLIZZARD SWEEPS ACROSS KENYA
And the television was even worse. Riots. Murders. Fires. I'd say it was a day just like any other day, but the anchors couldn't seem to keep up with the reports. One bad thing tumbled into the next and into the next.
"Chaos," I whispered.
"Doomsday," Sawyer said.
The urgency I'd felt earlier increased. If they hadn't called out flight right then, I might have slipped into a bathroom as a woman and come out something else.
Time turned back as we headed west. When we landed in Albuquerque, we'd gained several hours, yet several hours had passed, and so much more chaos had ensued.
As we walked through the Albuquerque International Sunport, headed for the rental car booth, I caught snatches of conversations.
"Something blew up in Israel."
Nothing new.
"London, Paris, Rome, and Madrid, too."
I cursed and glanced at the televisions. Smoke poured from several well-known buildings. Military personnel and law enforcement scurried around like ants.
"So far, nothing's happened here," someone murmured.
So far, I thought.
"The world's gone crazy."
"Did you expect anything less?" Sawyer asked.
Not really.
"Why did they back off for a while?"
"I'm not sure that they did. You were blocked by the amulet, and I have a feeling a lot of others were, too."
"Just because we weren't seeing the chaos in our visions doesn't mean it wasn't happening."
"The world's screwed up. Until things really got out of hand," he lifted his chin toward the television, "it was just another day at Fox News."
Maybe he was right. Or maybe humans had started to feed off the evil of the Nephilim. Or the Nephilim had gone hog wild. And why not? Their time was coming; soon their creators would roam the earth, and the soulless would outnumber the souls.
Unless I managed to become the darkness as well as the light. I'd drop the dreadful bitch into the pit with all her friends, seal up any cracks in the door, then throw away the key. How was that for a plan?
"Compact, mid-size, full, or luxury?" the rental car clerk asked.
"What do they call those brand-new vehicles that resemble a tank on truck wheels?" Sawyer asked.
"Hummers?"
Sawyer's eyebrows lifted. "I always thought a hummer was something else entirely."
Considering this was Sawyer, I knew exactly what he was talking about.
So did the rental clerk. She looked Sawyer up and down—even in his stupid discount tourist outfit, he was hotter than hot—and licked her lips. "You'd like a hummer, sir? I think I can take care of that."
I just bet she could. Honestly, there was chaos all over the news, we were trying to save the world here, and I had to deal with slutty rental agents and Sawyer's innuendos.
"Any old car will do," I said.
"No." Sawyer quit having eye sex with the clerk and became all business. "Summer's place isn't easy to get to. We need that Hummer."
"Maybe you do," I muttered. Jimmy drove a Hum-mer. Last time I'd seen it had been when he'd dumped me at Sawyer's and run off to become evil. Things had gone downhill from there.
However, I could understand why such a car would be helpful where we were headed, so I nodded at the woman, signed the papers, took the key.
Fifteen minutes later I stared at the military assault vehicle I'd just rented. "Who thought putting these on the road was a good idea?"
"Bigger is always better." Sawyer climbed into the passenger seat as Luther clambered into the back. "It's the American way."
I'd put my foot down at renting a taxicab-yellow tank, so ours was a sparkly shade of beige, which should blend into the desert, but wouldn't. Anything this big was going to stand out like a— "Lion in a haystack," I muttered. That phrase was really growing on me.
I pulled out of the parking lot and headed west.
The Navajo reservation spread across Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico, with the largest portion in Arizona. Sawyer lived near Mount Taylor, one of the four sacred mountains that marked the boundaries of the Dinetah. According to my walk through Jimmy's head, Summer's place should be near Mount Taylor, too, but on the far side.
I didn't know when Summer had moved to the reservation, but I did know why. She'd been sent to spy on Sawyer.
"You know where Summer lives?" I asked.
Sawyer's eyes were closed; his head lay back against the headrest. Luther, stretched out on the rear seat, was already fast asleep.
In this huge car, they both seemed so small. I felt like I was in a sci-fi movie—The Incredible Shrinking Leader of the Light. I had to reach up to get my hands around the steering wheel, tilt the rearview mirror way down. The only people who might be at home in this beast were Yao Ming or maybe Peyton Manning.
"You don't know?" Sawyer murmured.
"I got the gist," I said. "But what if she glamours everything up again?"
Sawyer opened one eye. "She will."