On the first floor, Margo shoves her way through a set of glass double doors and we spill out onto a wide front porch edged by a broadly curved set of stone steps. In the circular drive in front of the mansion is a long line of black cars sitting almost bumper to bumper along the cruise strip.
Though I don’t know how they can distinguish it from the others, Hennessy and Margo head straight for the second car in line, and when the man in the front seat sees them coming, he gets out to open a back door for them. Margo climbs onto the rear bench seat and scoots to make room. Hennessy gestures for me to go first, so I slide in, and he follows me.
Trigger gets into the front seat without being asked, and the man who held the door open circles the car to sit next to him.
This man—the driver?—holds his wrist beneath a scanner on the dashboard and the engine rumbles to life. I stare at his bar code and understand that even though I don’t recognize his genome, he is a clone.
But I have no idea why he is in Hennessy’s car or why it needs a driver.
The car parked in front of ours moves forward a couple of feet, and the man sitting in its front seat gives Hennessy’s driver a courteous wave.
“Main gate,” our driver says when the car prompts him for a destination, and the car gains speed as it rolls forward.
As we’re pulling out of the driveway and onto the road, following the cruise strip, I hear a commotion behind us. Adrenaline firing through my veins, I twist in my seat to see soldiers pouring out of the mansion, shouting for the driver to stop the car.
“Keep going,” Hennessy demands. “Faster.”
“Maximum speed,” the driver says, and the car lurches forward, racing down the road at a greater velocity than I’ve ever imagined. My heart pounds. My body seems stuck to the seat back.
Margo laughs as we leave the soldiers shouting after us.
“Now, that is how you make an exit!” Hennessy shouts, his eyes bright with excitement, and I flinch because his mouth is too close to my ear.
Margo turns to me, smiling in the intermittent glow of streetlights as we race past them. “Gotta hand it to you, Waverly. There’s never a dull moment when you’re involved. Even if you are a thieving bitch.”
She’s calling me names again, but this time she doesn’t seem angry. And I still have no idea how to respond. I glance into the front seat and find Trigger staring out his window, gripping the door handle with white knuckles.
I follow his gaze and find myself as transfixed as he is. The training ward is flying by on our right, and I’ve never seen it like this before. Though the buildings tower over the ward walls, they don’t look as tall from this distance. Most of the academies are dark at this time of night, but the dormitories are towers of light because no one has gone to bed yet except the small children.
But in seconds the training ward is gone.
The administrative ward flies by in a blur of light; then…there is nothing but darkness. Empty fields, mown short.
Where’s the residential ward? The industrial ward? Where are all the people who live and work in Lakeview after graduation?
How could the city possibly be so small?
A flash of blue catches the corner of my eye and I turn to see a Defense vehicle speeding along behind us, flashing its lights.
“I apologize, sir,” the driver says, glancing in the rearview mirror as he begins to slow the vehicle. “But we’re being pulled over.”
Evidently the soldiers want us to stop the car.
“No!” I grip Hennessy’s hand as fear shoots up my spine.
“Ma’am, I have to stop,” the driver explains apologetically. “That’s the law here, just like it is in your city.”
Mountainside. The city my last remaining identical calls home.
“Please.” I turn to Hennessy, trying to ignore the look Trigger is giving me from the front seat.
Hennessy looks surprised by both the grip I have on his hand and the desperation in my voice. He glances through the rear window at the car following us. The soldiers turn on their siren, and its wail chases us just as frenetically as the lights.
Hennessy turns back to me, and his eyes light up again at the prospect of defying the soldiers. “Step on it,” he says, and before I can ask what that means, the driver responds.
“We’re already at maximum automatic speed, sir.”
“Then put it in manual.”
“Yes, sir.” The driver holds his wrist beneath the scanner and the interior of the car glows red as it scans his bar code. “Manual override,” he says. Something in the dashboard hums, and as we fly down the road, a panel slides back to reveal a thin leather-wrapped wheel sunken into the dash. The wheel slides forward and the driver grips it. His knee rises into sight from my position in the middle of the backseat; then he stomps on something.
The car shoots forward. He grips the wheel, and when he makes a minor adjustment the car swerves slightly. Our vehicle is no longer being guided by the cruise strips painted on the road. The driver is in total control of the car and everyone in it.
Startled by that realization, I look around for something to hold on to as we pull away from the Defense vehicle. The front gate looms ahead. Behind us the world is awash in bright red and blue.
Trigger grips the door handle on his right. The gate begins to roll closed, no doubt in response to an alert that has gone out.
“Faster!” Hennessy shouts, and Margo squeals with excitement while I squeeze her brother’s hand because I have nothing else to hold on to.
The driver stomps harder and the car lurches forward again. The sirens fade into the distance. Our car shoots through the open gate and into the wild.
I am outside Lakeview for the first time in my life. But I don’t truly begin to breathe easier until I turn and see that the Defense vehicles—there are three of them now—have stopped at the city limit, evidently the boundary of their authority.
I turn again to see relief shining in Trigger’s eyes. I give him a nervous smile, then stare through the windshield in surprise. The cars headlights illuminate the road ahead of us, which is how I can see that though it’s paved out here in the wild, probably all the way to the nearest city, there are no more cruise strips.
That’s why guests need drivers. There are no CitiCars in the wild.
“Yeah!” Margo throws her fist into the air, and though I’m unfamiliar with the gesture I can feel the celebration in it.
Hennessy squeezes my hand and I look up to find him grinning at me. He and his sister have no idea what they’ve really done for me and Trigger, but they seem just as pleased with the result as I am. As Trigger is…
But Trigger’s relief is dampened by an edge of caution in the lines on his forehead. In the hard set of his jaw. His eyes silently remind me that we may be out of Lakeview, but we are not out of the woods. Or rather, we’re not yet in the woods.
I nod, telling him silently that I remember the plan: Ditch Hennessy and Margo once we’re in their city. Steal whatever supplies we can find. Then find a way out of Mountainside.
Where no one will be hunting us.