I stiffen in spite of myself and turn to stare at him. “Are you crazy? Has your brain finally just collapsed under its own weight?”
His gaze is serious. “What alternative do you propose? The world is ending, Mia, and we’re the only ones who know about it. We have to find out more. We’re learning more and more aboutthese Undying every second we’re with them, and at some point, one of them will slip.”
“How do you know?” I wish I could stop my voice shaking.
“Because someone alwaysdoes,” Jules counters. “No one is that good.”
“They’re notsomeones.” Even though Atlanta’s turned away, I can still feel the cold, unwavering intensity of her stare. The way she never seems to blink. The predatory fluidity of her movements. “We have no idea what they can do.”
Jules keeps his voice low, but his eyebrows lift to emphasize his words. “That’s exactly my point. We have no idea. But Mia, they’vealreadyslipped. Remember when Atlanta said they only need a few people on the surface?”
I certainly remember the coldness of her voice as she said it. “So?”
“Well, you can’t take over a whole planet with just a few shuttles. Just like you can’t take over a whole planet with just one ship. But it’snotjust one ship, is it?”
My mouth opens, and I blink at him, my surprise briefly eclipsed by the reminder of just how quickly Jules thinks, how beautifully his mind works. “It’s a Trojan Horse. A ship full of portals.”
“And if they can somehow do that here, build portals on the surface …”
“… then they won’t need more than a few,” I breathe, finishing the thought for him. “Holy shit, Jules. You’re right.”
Jules leans closer to me. “We’ve already tried letting the IA sort it out. Maybe they still will—I hope they do. Maybe someone will actually look at those DNA samples back there, and the word will get out, but we haven’t gotten very far on maybes and hopes. On the ship, they were talking about this ‘Prime-One destin’ like it was one of the most important parts of the invasion—and we’re going to figure it out. We have to. And maybe if we can figure out how they’re building the portals, or where, we’ll stop what’s happening. But we have to stay with them to do that.”
My eyes sting, and I know I’m tired if the mere thought of attempting Jules’s plan makes me want to cry. “They’re crazy,” I whisper. “She is, anyway. Did you see her with that knife? She’s going to snap and straight-up murder us, Jules.”
“She won’t.” Julessoundsconfident. “Dex won’t let her.”
I groan. “Even if you’re right and Dexissomehow on our side, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she doesn’t exactly seem to listen to him.”
“She does, though.” Jules sounds surprised, and when I glance his way he’s looking at me with his eyebrows up. “She might be giving us all these orders, but haven’t you noticed that whenever Dex does speak up, she changes her mind? They’re like twins. She might seem like the more dominant one, but she listens to him, even though she doesn’t act like it.”
I have to admit that he has a point, though he’s got a lot more faith in Dex than I have. “When did you turn into the expert on alien behavior?”
“I think some things must be universal.” Jules’s lips twitch. “Besides, I have a little experience being given orders by a … very decisive partner.”
He’s amused, his eyes gleaming at me, but the words still hurt, a little twinge of self-consciousness plucking at my heart. “Then you propose we don’t try to get away? We just take them to Prague?”
“We let them think we’re doing as they ask, for now. We don’t fight, we don’t argue—they already think we’re weaker than they are just because they’re some superior alien race. We let them think they’ve won.”
“And if we get to Prague and still don’t know how to stop them, then what?”
Jules hesitates. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But it’s going to take us a while to get there. We’ll figure it out as we go.” A flicker of a smile appears on his face. “Now, where have I heard that before?”
I wish I could find it funny, him using my own style of planning—or lack thereof—against me. But my fear is too heavy.
“How do we even get there? There’s what, like, four, five border crossings between here and there?”
Weariness sharpens my voice. Escaping IA custody ought to have been the biggest, most daring, most insane thing we’d have to do to warn our home that it’s in danger. Hell,making itto IA custody should have been enough. Now, with Jules’s half-formed plan stretching out in front of me, the idea that our escape was just the beginning makes me want to lie down in the gravel beneath me and give up.
“Only three, if we go through Germany.” Jules shifts his weight like he might reach for my hand, but he stops, his arm dangling awkwardly at his side instead. “I can call my cousin. We know a guy who makes fake IDs for the private school kids—he might be able to make us some passports that would at least hold up for sleepy border guards at quiet crossings. He could bring us some money, maybe a phone.”
“You make your cousin sound like some sort of spy.”
“I’d bet my life on the fact that he’ll know a guy who knows a guy. Don’t underestimate the Addison gene pool.” He smiles at me, that smile he must know is devastating to my attempts to remain unmoved.
I close my eyes so it can’t sway me, drawing a deep breath and trying to focus past my exhaustion. “We can’t wait here for him, the IA’s bound to catch up to us. We’ll have to sneak across the border into France on foot. Keep our heads down, maybe change our appearance in case they put out a BOLO.”
Jules’s teeth flash in the dark, a quick grin that he stifles immediately. “You sound like an American cop show.”
