The Flight of the Silvers

The agent croaked a querulous mutter, then closed the gate. Melissa raised her gun and motioned Howard around the other side of the truck. She advanced up the driver’s side, cursing herself for letting Theo spook her about the Pelletiers.

 

Soon she spied Carter and Ross up the road, both handcuffed and seething as Hannah and Mia led them behind the rocks. A soft sigh of relief escaped Melissa’s lips. The only thing better than a foolish enemy was a nonviolent one. This situation could be turned. If Melissa was lucky, she might even reach Washington with a complete set of fugitives.

 

She heard soft footsteps behind her, then spun around with her pistol. Zack stood at the rear of the truck, his palms raised high.

 

“Whoa. Easy. I’m unarmed.”

 

“No you’re not.”

 

“Well, I’m as unarmed as I can get. In any case, you don’t want to shoot.”

 

“You’re right. I don’t. But if I see one flash of temporis—”

 

“It already happened,” Zack informed her. “Look at your gun.”

 

Melissa studied her weapon. While she was staring up the road, the barrel had aged several decades. She studied the muzzle, now thoroughly clogged with oxidation.

 

“Goodness. That’s quite a trick, Zack.”

 

“I’ve been practicing.”

 

“You realize you could have rifted my hand.”

 

“Exactly why I’ve been practicing.”

 

“I appreciate the extra care, but this was foolish. You won’t succeed here.”

 

“We just want our friends back. We’re hoping to do it without hurting anyone.”

 

Melissa spun at the sound of Howard’s brief yelp at the other side of the truck.

 

“Seriously hurting anyone,” Zack qualified.

 

“What just happened?”

 

“A flash of light in the eyes. He’ll be fine.”

 

With a futile sigh, she holstered her gun. “Zack, listen to me. My name’s—”

 

“Melissa Masaad. Yes. I’m aware.”

 

Melissa blinked in bafflement. She could never tell which of the fugitives knew her name already.

 

“You can’t keep running,” she insisted. “You’re smart enough to see that. Sooner or later, your luck will run out and someone you care about will die.”

 

“As opposed to the long and fruitful life we’ll enjoy in your Area 51.”

 

“I don’t know what that is. If you’re talking about scientific dissection, that’s not the plan for you. That’s not what we want. You have to believe me.”

 

“I don’t.”

 

David weaved around the front of the tug with a captured Howard in tow. The handcuffed agent squawked in pain as David pushed him to his knees. Melissa held his shoulder.

 

“Howard! Are you all right?”

 

“No! That son of a bitch blinded me!”

 

“Quit whining,” said David. “It’s temporary.”

 

Melissa watched him with muted concern. She’d observed the boy through countless ghosts and transcripts. There was always something about him that bothered her, a hint of polished reasoning well beyond his age. Now as Zack flinched with moral unease, David stood eerily calm. He aimed Howard’s pistol at Melissa’s head.

 

“On your knees, please. Hands behind your back.”

 

She did as he said, keeping her cool gaze fixed on David while Zack handcuffed her wrists.

 

“You seem to be a natural at this,” Melissa told David.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“It wasn’t a compliment. I’ve chased enough killers to recognize one in the making.”

 

“If that’s the extent of your psychological insight, it’s no wonder we keep outsmarting you.”

 

Zack plucked the radio from her belt. “As much as I’m enjoying this BBC growlfest, we’re on a clock. We know you have one last agent in the back of the truck. If you care about him, you’ll tell him to come out with his hands up. We won’t hurt him. I promise.”

 

Melissa clenched her jaw, formulating her strategy. Howard had called for backup four minutes ago. They had at least twelve minutes before the rest of her team arrived in shifted aerovans.

 

“Okay, you both need to listen to me very carefully—”

 

“No we don’t,” David snapped. “Stop trying to stall us.”

 

“I’m trying to save your life, boy. You have problems you don’t even know about.”

 

“Yes, and I’m sure you’ll tell us all about them while your reinforcements arrive.”

 

“I can tell you in twenty seconds,” she insisted. “There’s a government agency called the National Integrity Commission. They operate outside the law, with virtually no oversight. Like us, they don’t enjoy the fact that you’re running around the country, causing damage and making headlines. If I don’t apprehend you soon, they’ll come after you with everything they’ve got. That’s when you end up in the Area 51, as you call it. That’s when your worst fears about the government are realized. If you come with us—”

 

“Time’s up.”

 

“If you come with us, Zack, we can avoid that. We’ll work with you, not against you. We know about Rebel and Evan and the Pelletiers. We want to stop them just as much—”

 

A booming gunshot cut her off, making everyone but David jump. He lowered the smoking pistol. A tiny new crater graced the asphalt, ten inches from Melissa’s leg.

 

David grabbed the radio and held it to Melissa’s face.

 

“Now you’re out of time and warnings.”

 

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