No one had trouble agreeing to her request. After a cozy respite, Hannah oriented Zack on the van’s controls. David plotted a course on the computer navigation system. Soon the Silvers joined the speedy bustle on Highway X, snaking east through the South California grasslands and into the desert.
By the time the Seeker crossed into Arizona, the sun had set and David fell fast asleep in his seat. The five waking Silvers tumbled back into the larger issues. Some thought about Azral. Others thought about Peter. All of them wondered why one was so eager to help them get to the other.
TWENTY-ONE
The Power Boy chargery crackled with life, a pocket of activity in a bare patch of Kansas. Two hundred travelers ambled the station, stretching limbs and killing time while their vehicles drank from electric wells. The plaza offered two diners, four stores, an arcade, and a mini-theater. It also sported a tea lift, a diversion so unique that Zack nearly drove off the freeway gawking at it.
While the van replenished at a generator, the Silvers split up and wandered in pairs. Only Zack and Theo chose to brave the antigravity madness of the tea lift. They were loaded into a two-seat metal cup, which rose ten stories into the sky on a remote-controlled saucer of aeris. Despite the panorama of sun-drenched plains, Zack and Theo couldn’t take their eyes off the other riders—twenty cups of people, all floating through the air in a slow and synchronous halo.
Theo saw Zack’s stupefied expression and raised him a jagged chuckle. “This is some Willy Wonka shit right here.”
“I know. My inner physicist is sobbing right now. He demands we plummet.”
“Why did we do this again, Zack?”
“Oh, you know. When in Rome . . .”
“. . . fall as the Romans fell?”
The cartoonist shrugged. “We can’t be country rubes forever. If this is what they do at gas stations, just imagine their theme parks.”
An electronic chirping sound emanated from Zack’s pocket. He retrieved his handphone and checked the screen. Amanda Calling.
He answered her with a grin. “Hey. You’ll never guess where we are.”
“I know where you are. I saw you in line. You’re both crazy.”
“You should try it. It’s amazing.”
“Yeah, no thanks. I’m just making sure you’re not holding each other and screaming.”
“Well, we’re not screaming.”
Amanda laughed. “Just try not to die, okay? I don’t like driving the van.”
“Where are you now?”
“At the base of the statue.”
He peered down at the thirty-foot sculpture of Power Boy—a chubby blond tyke with button eyes and an electric-blue superhero outfit. Two black-haired women stood at the feet of the eyesore. Even from a hundred feet up, Zack could see Hannah’s fidgety agitation. He was starting to share Amanda’s concerns about her.
“Yeah. I see you. Stay there. We’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Two days ago, Zack had purchased six handphones from an Arizona vendor, all bare-bones models that were prepaid for a generous amount of usage.
On Wednesday afternoon, shortly after the van crossed into New Mexico, Hannah’s screen lit up with a chain of malevolent texts. The sender was only identified as A. Sonnet.
Hey Hannah Banana, Always-Needs-a-Man-a. I guess you found Jury in your pants.
He would have entered your knickers a hell of a lot quicker if I hadn’t messed with events.
In previous times, he was the pearl in your clam. You were the honey on his plantain.
Wherever we stayed, it was always the same. We’d all hear your screwings. Your melodious oohings.
It was not meant to be, unfortunately. He adored you, I assure you, but he always died before you. :(
You’d cry at the dirt in your little black skirt and you’d swear to us you loved him.
And yet within a week, we’d hear the mattress squeak.
The bump-bump-bump of a brand-new chump.
If only these men knew the real and awful you.
Rest assured I do, oh Hannah Banana.
:)
Now the actress paced the feet of the Power Boy, anxiously scanning every man in the crowd. She barely knew a thing about Evan Rander and already she hated him more than anyone she’d ever known. She hated him for singling her out, for chipping away at an already broken psyche.
While Amanda talked on the phone with Zack, laughing her radiant laugh, Hannah swallowed a high scream. As if her stalker problems weren’t bad enough, this voyage was quickly becoming a couples cruise, a romantic slow dance across the floor of the nation. The disparity of fortune killed her. It tortured her for reasons that were vain and petty enough to make her ashamed.
Soon Zack and Theo returned to the ground and rejoined the sisters. On the way back to the generator lot, Hannah clasped fingers with Theo. Despite her smile, her grip was tight and desperate. She hated herself for the plan she was hatching. She hated Evan for knowing her.