He yanked at the knots behind my head. As the fabric fell away from my eyes, I focused them only on the ground at my feet.
It made a world of difference. The moonlight was bright, and the sand was very smooth and pale. Jared dropped his arm and broke into a faster stride. I kept up easily now. Distance running was familiar to my body. I settled into my preferred stride. Just over a six-minute mile, I’d guess. I couldn’t keep up that pace forever, but I’d run myself into the ground trying.
“You hear… anything?” he asked.
I listened. Just two sets of running feet on the sand.
“No.”
He grunted in approval.
I guessed this was the reason he’d stolen the gun. They couldn’t stop us from a distance without it.
It took about an hour more. I was slowing then, and so was he. My mouth burned for water.
I’d never looked up from the ground, so it startled me when he put his hand over my eyes. I faltered, and he pulled us to a walk.
“We’re okay now. Just ahead…”
He left his hand over my eyes and tugged me forward. I heard our footsteps echo off something. The desert wasn’t as flat here.
“Get in.”
His hand disappeared.
It was nearly as dark as it was with him covering my eyes. Another cave. Not a deep one. If I turned around, I would be able to see out of it. I didn’t turn.
The jeep faced into the darkness. It looked just the same as I remembered it, this vehicle I had never seen. I swung myself over the door into the seat.
Jared was in his seat already. He leaned over and tied the blindfold over my eyes again. I held still to make it easier.
The noise of the engine scared me. It seemed too dangerous. There were so many people who shouldn’t find us now.
We moved in reverse briefly, and then the wind was blasting my face. There was a funny sound behind the jeep, something that didn’t fit Melanie’s memories.
“We’re going to Tucson,” he told me. “We never raid there—it’s too close. But we don’t have time for anything else. I know where a small hospital is, not too deep into town.”
“Not Saint Mary’s?”
He heard the alarm in my voice. “No, why?”
“I know someone there.”
He was quiet for a minute. “Will you be recognized?”
“No. No one will know my face. We don’t have… wanted people. Not like you did.”
“Okay.”
But he had me thinking now, thinking about my appearance. Before I could voice my concerns, he took my hand and folded it around something very small.
“Keep that close to you.”
“What is it?”
“If they guess that you’re… with us, if they’re going to… put someone else in Mel’s body, you put that in your mouth and bite down on it hard.”
“Poison?”
“Yes.”
I thought about that for a moment. And then I laughed; I couldn’t help it. My nerves were frayed with worry.
“It’s not a joke, Wanda,” he said angrily. “If you can’t do it, then I have to take you back.”
“No, no, I can.” I tried to get a hold of myself. “I know I can. That’s why I’m laughing.”
His voice was harsh. “I don’t get the joke.”
“Don’t you see? For millions of my own kind, I’ve never been able to do that. Not for my own… children. I was always too afraid to die that final time. But I can do it for one alien child.” I laughed again. “It doesn’t make any sense. Don’t worry, though. I can die to protect Jamie.”
“I’m trusting you to do just that.”
It was silent for a moment, and then I remembered what I looked like.
“Jared, I don’t look right. For walking into a hospital.”
“We’ve got better clothes stashed with the… less-conspicuous vehicles. That’s where we’re headed now. About five more minutes.”
That wasn’t what I meant, but he was right. These clothes would never do. I waited to talk to him about the rest. I needed to look at myself first.
The jeep stopped, and he pulled off the blindfold.
“You don’t have to keep your eyes down,” he told me when my head ducked automatically. “There’s nothing here to give us away. Just in case this place was ever discovered.”
It wasn’t a cave. It was a rock slide. A few of the bigger boulders had been carefully excavated, leaving clever dark spaces under them that no one would suspect of housing anything but dirt and smaller rocks.
The jeep was already lodged in a tight space. I was so close to the rock, I had to climb over the back of the jeep to get out. There was something odd attached to the bumper—chains and two very dirty tarps, all ragged and torn.
“Here,” Jared said, and led the way to a shadowy crevice just a little shorter than he was. He brushed aside a dusty, dirt-colored tarp and rifled through a pile hiding behind it. He pulled out a T-shirt, soft and clean, with tags still attached. He ripped those off and threw the shirt to me. Then he dug until he found a pair of khaki pants. He checked the size, then flipped them to me, too.