AB’s voice sharpened, a little edge now. “Traffic slowing ahead. I’ve got some help from local patterns—adjusted lights on your path. You’ll gain on them fast, but be ready for aggressive drivers.”
Legend chuckled, leaning slightly in his seat. “Really glad Alphabet’s on our side for this one. Otherwise, we’d be playing bumper cars with city traffic.”
The vans were close enough now that I could make out the outline of the roof racks. Bones leaned forward, scanning thehighway with lethal precision. “Keep steady. Don’t spook them. Lunchbox, be ready to block if they try anything.”
I felt Nico tense against me. His small hands clutched my jacket, digging into the fabric as though it could somehow anchor him to safety.“Estamos casi allí,”I whispered softly.We’re almost there.
A flash of brake lights ahead made my pulse skip and I sucked in a breath. One van swerved slightly, testing the lanes. Voodoo matched the maneuver effortlessly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Relax, Firecracker. Alphabet’s got this. We’ll catch up before they even know what hit them.”
I exhaled again, holding Nico a little tighter.“Está bien. Lo tenemos.”It’s okay. We’ve got this.
Highway 12 stretched out, emptying into long strips of asphalt and industrial backroads. The vans were just ahead, speeding toward the intersection AB had marked. Every second brought them closer, every turn a chance to slip, a chance to catch them—or lose them.
The vans grew larger in the windshield—white, nondescript, and so heavily identified as serial killer vans it almost made me laugh. White, the most common vehicle color in the world, was the kind of vehicle you wouldn’t look at twice unless you already knew monsters were driving them.
Traffic thickened as we neared intersection 17, the sun was already beginning to dip in the west and cast a burnt orange warning flare. Drivers were hitting brakes. Lanes bunching. The kind of congestion that could either hide the vans… or bury us.
“Alphabet,” Voodoo muttered, knuckles tightening on the wheel, “they’re gonna slip the net if we hit a full stop.”
“Relax,” AB answered, voice low but smug enough that I could picture him grinning at his screens. “I’m about to make this the world’s most cooperative traffic jam.”
Bones raised an eyebrow. “Cooperative?”
“Working on it… annnnnd—lights switching now.”
Ahead of us, every traffic signal along the perpendicular cross-street flicked from green to red in synchronized precision. Cars hit brakes. Horns blared. The vans were forced to slow, boxed into the middle of the pack.
Legend let out a low whistle. “Yeah… I’m really damn glad Alphabet’s on our side.”
I didn’t argue. I breathed. But the relief was short-lived. One of the vans jerked sharply into the right lane, the other drifted left, inching apart, creeping toward the possibility of splitting.
A spike of fear shot through my chest. “They’re—they’re splitting up.”
Nico tensed, head snapping up, eyes wide. He didn’t understand everything, but he understood enough. Goblin whined, leaning into him.
Bones turned in his seat, voice quiet but firm. “We don’t chase two. We force them back together.”
“How?” I breathed.
“Like this,” Voodoo said under his breath. “Alphabet—need a window. Right lane.”
“I see it. Opening in three… two… aaand go.”
The lane to the right cleared like someone parted the ocean. Voodoo slipped the SUV into the space, accelerating just enough to match the vans’ speed. Bones watched every mirror, every angle, hands braced on the dash like it was an extension of his body.
“Lunchbox,” he murmured. “Get ready.”
“Always am,” came the amused rumble from the back.
Goblin gave a sharp bark—soft but insistent, like he sensed the shift in energy. Nico clutched the little dog’s vest and my arm at the same time, trembling.
“Está bien,” I whispered, brushing his hair back. “Solo un poco más.”It’s okay. Just a little more.
Ahead, the vans grew close again as Voodoo angled us neatly between them—one on each side now, the perfect trap position. If either tried to bolt, we’d see it first.
“Vans approaching the red at intersection 17,” AB narrated, tension threading through each word. “If they run the light, they’ll get boxed in by oncoming traffic. If they don’t…”
“Then we make our move,” Bones finished.
