Taylor scrunches her nose. “I think you will find it difficult to navigate by starlight in the daytime, Lucy.”
“It’s how you get to—never mind. I can read a map.” I shake the paper taped to the dashboard. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”
A rusted forestgreen sign emblazoned with a silhouetted moose head signals our entry into Northwest territory. Wyoming stands unguarded, flat squares of farmland for miles in any direction. Nature has largely reclaimed these lands, with trees and wildlife encroaching upon this barely maintained highway. I remain alert so I don’t drive smack into a woodland creature or sprawling tree.
I focus on the horizon ahead, and seek my future in it. Does this blend of orange and blue hold anything for me? No, I muse, because my future rests beside me, slumbering softly. My life is in the hands of a beleaguered warrior with no real reason to care about my survival other than a commitment to duty. There is more to it, though, and that scares more than the uncertainty.
The more scares me. The wanting of it, the having it, the losing it.
“Where are we?” Taylor asks, startling me in my seat.
“Shit!” Once my heart rate settles, I wave a finger around the map. “Somewhere in here.”
Taylor raises an eyebrow. “You said you could read it.”
“Yes, but you’re the one with the GPS on her wrist, smartass.”
She smirks and taps her wristwatch a few times. “Not too far outside the Montana border. Good, we made good time.”
Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I inquire, “Are we driving to Arizona after? Because my ass is falling asleep.”
“Don’t know. Theia will brief us after confirmation of Target Four’s elimination. There isn’t an official OrPro base close enough to Reed’s homestead so we will communicate via a cabin well outside the property boundaries.”
“Oh, goody, another cabin. Can I nearly get tetanus in this one too?”
“Probably.” She peers into the road ahead. “Pull over. There’s a checkpoint coming up soon.”
We stretch our legs and change seats, then embark upon another prolonged span of driving that allows my intrusive thoughts to barrel to the forefront of my brain.
Hands clasped in my lap, I peek at Taylor. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“What happens after Wolfshield?”
Taylor runs her fingers through her hair and then grips the steering wheel. “Presumably, Hunter and I will assist Theia in coordinating troop efforts until all region forces are subdued. I am not sure. We have not discussed in any detail what happens when I complete my missions.”
“Why not?”
“The odds of my survival were, and are, slim.” Out of her peripheral vision Taylor watches me process what she’s said.
I fidget in my seat to stave off the awful feeling inside my chest. “Or you could not die.”
“Or I could not die,” she repeats with a smile. It fades from her face. “I am not actively pursuing my own demise. I’m—this should have been Hunter. She has the skills, Mason’s the engineer, and I am the spare.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’d rather be here with you than with her.”
Taylor shakes her head. “I doubt it. You will like Hunter. Everyone does.”
“I’m not everyone.”
The corner of her lips lifts in a weak smile before she turns her attention back to the road, where a barricade rises in the distance across the flat land. A checkpoint well stocked with Reed’s police force—the Jacks—spreads across both lanes of the highway. Heavy piles of timber on either side of the road prevent anyone from going around it.
“What do we do?” I ask aloud as Taylor presses harder on the gas.
“We are going to blow it.”
I blink over to her. “Excuse me? You did not just say some crazy nonsense like ‘we are going to blow it.’”
