“Not too much longer, I’d wager,” said Mahir, from behind me. His normally crisp accent was blurred around the edges, like he was too tired to worry about being understood by the Americans. “How’s it coming?”
“About as well as can be expected,” I said, stealing one last look at Georgia before I turned, casting an easy smile in his direction. I didn’t need to look back to know that George was gone. She generally disappeared as soon as I took my eyes off her. I was seeing her more often with every day that passed, and that was wonderful, because I missed her so much, and it was terrible, because it meant I was running out of time.
We can cure cancer. We can cure the common cold. But no one, anywhere, ever, has found a reliable cure for crazy.
“Maggie spoke with you?”
I nodded. “She wanted to make sure I knew she wouldn’t be coming back from Seattle.”
“And you were all right with that?” Mahir walked toward me, stopping when he was still a few feet clear of the van. Maggie was a much more touchy-feely kind of person than he was. I appreciated that. One hug per day was pretty much my limit.
“No,” I admitted. “I don’t want her to go. The rest of us… You’re going to be able to put your own name back on when you get home, but the rest of us, we’re done. We’ll be lucky if we don’t wind up hiding in Canada being chased by zombie moose for the rest of our lives.”
“There’s always the chance we’ll successfully manage to bring down the United States government somehow, and that will negate the need to flee to Canada,” said Mahir helpfully.
I gave him a startled look. He smirked, fighting unsuccessfully to keep himself from smiling. Somehow, that was even funnier than what he’d said. I started laughing. So did he. We were both still laughing five minutes later, when Becks came out to the garage with a can of soda in one hand and a perplexed look on her face.
“Did I miss something?” she asked.
“We’re going to topple the US government!” I informed her.
Becks appeared to think about that for a moment. Then she shrugged, cracking the tab on her soda at the same time, and replied, “Okay. Works for me.”
Mahir and I burst out laughing again. Becks waited patiently for us to stop, taking occasional sips from her soda. Finally, I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand, and said, still snickering, “Okay. Okay, I think we’re done now. Did you see Maggie?”
“I did. She said something about you and me heading to Berkeley to kill your parents?”
“That’s not quite what I said, but I guess it’s close enough. We’re going to Berkeley to ask the Masons if they’ll tell us how to find a clear route into the Florida hazard zone.”
“And what will you be giving them in return?” asked Mahir.
I sighed. “You know, I really kind of miss the days when I could just e-mail a memo to the team, and everybody would know what was going on, and I wouldn’t have to repeat things seventeen times.”
Not that you ever remembered to send the memos, said George.
“Because you did that so often,” said Becks, saving me from the need to respond to someone no one else could hear. Again.
“I could have done it, if I’d wanted to,” I countered. “That made the endless repetition a choice, and hence way less irritating. I’m going to tell them how to unlock the flat-drop of all our files. The one I had Alaric send while we were running from Memphis.”
“And when they post our research far and wide? What happens then?” Mahir didn’t sound annoyed, just curious. Even so, I was relieved when Becks crunched her empty soda can in her fist and chucked it into the trash can against the wall, where it landed with a rattling clunk.
“If the Masons post the things we’ve been withholding, they’ll be the target of the firestorm that follows,” she said. She sounded utterly calm. Her calm continued as she added, “Which means we can’t let them do it.”
“Hey!” I frowned at her. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side here.”
“I’m on the side that doesn’t get us slaughtered, Mason. Think about this for thirty seconds, why don’t you? We give them the key to the files. They unlock them, and go all kid in a candy store over the contents, since hey, their stupid son just gave them the scoop of the century. They toss it all online. And people everywhere stop shooting zombies because they think their loved ones might get ‘better.’ ”
I grimaced. “Not good.”
“Not good at all. And then the government will lean on the Masons to tell them where to find us, so we can be used to ‘prove’ that it was all a hoax.”
“Lovely,” said Mahir.
Becks shrugged. “If you’re going to think like a paranoid, you need to really commit to thinking like a paranoid.”