His gaze locked on hers. Her mouth went dry, and her stomach fluttered with something akinto…attraction.I can’t be attracted to a Progg!Even if the invasion is over.Even if he’s a good-guy exception, and I’m safe with him. Even if I trust him.
With a jolt, she realized she did trust him. Alien or not, he was a good person. Caleb, Sandy, and Zack were bad people. And they were human. Heated awareness crept up her neck into her face. She cleared her throat. “Well…go for it. I’ll, uh, be right behind you.”
“Okay!” He gripped the handlebars.
“Watch for stalled cars! Wait for me when it levels out.”
“Got it!” He pushed off and pedaled fast up the ramp.
She let him get ahead by about a hundred feet. “Hang on, Kevin.” She glanced at the dog and then pushed off.
The highway ramp descended, and Rok picked up speed, going faster and faster, and then he lifted his feet and let kinetic energy carry him away. Rich, throaty, unrestrained laughter rang out. He shouted in his language, which she surmised translated to, “Wheee!”
She pumped hard. As her bike crested the hill, descended, and picked up speed, she stopped pedaling,too, and let gravity do its thing. She was laughing by the time she coasted to a stop. There were many hilly country roads in the Ozarks that would be a thrill to ride on a bicycle. Maybe one day, they could pack a vegan lunch and go for a ride and a picnic…
Didn’tthatsound like a date, like she intended to stay with him for a while.
After she unzipped the carrier top so Kevin could see out better, they started off again. “It’s getting late; let’s head into the city, scout around a bit, and find a place to stay.”
Hotels were no longer an option, as she’d discovered previously. Rooms had fail-secure locks; when the power went out, the doors locked. A battery backup allowed guests to enter their rooms—but batteries had died.
Homes offered the best option—the trick was to find one unlocked.
This highway wasn’t too congested, so they rode side by side in the fast lane.
“I suggest we park ourselves at a suitable house, use it as a base of operations, and branch out from there, head in a different direction every day. Scout for a few days then move on to a different section of thecity. Grav left a message—maybe we should, too. Let him know we’re looking for him.”
“Good idea.” He paused. “Do you really think we’ll find him?”
“We’ve had some good luck—maybe it will hold out.” They were looking for a needle in a haystack, but she hated to dash his hopes, especially when the day was going so well. “I’ll try to find a city map, and we can go to key public buildings and landmarks.” Searching with a destination seemed more logical than wandering aimlessly.
“I don’t think Grav would know what those are. I wouldn’t.” He veered out of the fast lane into the middle to avoid a smash-up.
She followed him over. “He left a message on aschool. I’m hoping we’ll find another message on another public place. By himself, he may not recognize a public building, but if he’s with a human, he would know.”
A van had rear-ended a bus, and both sprawled across the middle lane, so they moved right. An overhead sign announced an upcoming exit to National Avenue.That sounds like an important street.“Let’s get off here.”
She based her strategy on whatshewould do. If she desired to attract attention, she’d go to the most open, public space she could find. It was why she’d left the rural areas and ventured into the cities. Grav wouldn’t recognize city hall from McDonald’s, but she assumed he was with a human who could direct him.
I’m making a lot of assumptions.She counted on being able to find the key locales. Unfortunately, she’d never been to Springfield, paper maps were few and far between, and phone books didn’t exist. Maybe a library would have a map?
I need a map to find the library.
They took the National ramp, and she mentally flipped a coin and veered to the right, which put them in front of a cancer treatment center. “Let’s ride up the street for a few blocks, see what we see.”
At the corner, a skybridge crossed over National, connecting the hospital on the left with the heart center on the right. A huge banner hung from the bridge. Her pulse raced as she picked out words.
“Look!” Rok said.
“I see it!”
They pedaled fast, braking to a stop just below the bridge. She recognized Progg symbols—and English.
“My name is Laurel Knight. I’m from Big Creek, Missouri. I am with a FRIENDLY Progg named Grav. We hold survivor meetings at 5 p.m. every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at the Gillioz.”
When was it written? Days ago? Weeks? Months? She wished the woman had dated her message—but then again, she’d lost track of the date, anyway. Time had ceased to matter—until now. The sun’s position suggested it was five o’clock-ish? Six, maybe?
“It says your brother is here…” she said hesitantly.
