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  They could make it. That thought gave her a comfort.

  Bosco pulled her tight. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m just imagining our future, a beautiful future.”

  Then she wondered if her parents had Malclenersy, both of them. In that case, it wouldn’t be so bad if the world was activated. If it was inevitable, it would be better if it happened under Mr. Sands. Then Bosco would stay himself. And what did control mean, really? Maybe it was no different than an antianxiety drug, or a Valium, like Mr. Sands said. That wouldn’t be so bad.

  As she mulled over the possibilities, her body became heavy.

  *

  “Remmie,” Bosco said.

  She jarred awake and wiped a trail of saliva from her cheek. Bosco motioned to the window. They were at a gas station. Beside them was a red van and a tall black woman with flowing blonde hair, pumping gas. Her legs were long and slender. Remmie thought that those were the legs of a model, perfect. She rubbed her eyes and studied the woman’s face, chiseled.

  And beneath it, a bobbing Adam’s apple.

  “It’s them,” Bosco said. “I need you to approach the van. I’ll wait here.”

  “What?” That person was not Victor.

  “That’s Samuel.”

  Remmie’s gut felt like it was filling with tickly feathers. How? Was she dreaming? That was too easy, too convenient. And if that was them, how would they react? Would they take her and drive off? What would they do to Bosco? What would Bosco do?

  “Just go,” Bosco said. “We’ll be okay.”

  She opened the passenger side door, her body now running on instinct, her thoughts scattered. She ran her fingers though her hair and fixed her jeans and T-shirt. She took a deep breath and walked around the van, approaching the man in the dress, rubbing her fingers along her goopy palms in the pattern of the Dames. Samuel looked at her.

  Then Kyle burst out of the van. “Remmie!”

  He threw his arms around her, but she shook him off, feeling like worms had been thrown onto her skin. Kyle’s arms fell and he stared at her.

  Victor emerged from the van holding something behind his back.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, Remmie,” Victor said, scanning the area as he spoke, “but this is highly suspicious.”

  “I promise you it’s not. They know you’re coming. We escaped.”

  “I trust her.” Kyle turned to Victor, “Put that away.”

  “No,” Victor said. “This is not possible if—”

  Bosco stepped out of the Land Rover, his hands up. There was a mild breeze, the hum of the old gas pump, and the sound of crickets. Otherwise, silence.

  Victor pulled the gun from behind his back and pointed it at Bosco. Kyle looked at Bosco with contempt. The gas pump clicked to a stop. Samuel returned it to its slot.

  Everyone eyed each other like they were about to kick off the apocalypse.

  FORTY-ONE

  KYLE STEPPED BETWEEN Remmie and Bosco, ready to try out some of his new martial arts moves. He realized he was more confident, or maybe he just didn’t care like he used to. Either way, he wasn’t afraid. The sight of Bosco with Remmie shoved aside any fear. He loved her, a feeling he had only known once before. Now he knew what those feelings meant.

  But Remmie stepped between Bosco and Victor, her hands up. Kyle wondered why she didn’t even look at him.

  “Remmie, what’s going on?” Victor said. “Step aside. Is this a setup?”

  “I assure you it’s not,” Bosco said.

  “Please, just hear us out,” Remmie said.

  Kyle felt his legs weaken, his strength falter. Something was odd about Remmie.

  “Do you trust me, Victor?” Remmie said.

  “No.”

  Her mouth fell open like she’d just been passed over for a game of pickup soccer on the playground. “We escaped.” She stepped back, into Bosco. He wrapped his arms around her and she pulled herself into him. “He helped me escape. He’s with us now. We’re in love.”

  “What?”

  Kyle was certain it was a setup. They must have told her to say that, threatened to kill Eli if she didn’t. But he looked at Bosco’s arms wrapped around her, their hands together, squeezing tight like a couple. No, she would never . . .

  “It’s a trap!” Kyle lunged toward Remmie and grabbed Bosco’s arm, trying to pull it away. It didn’t budge.

  Remmie punched Kyle in the chest and he stumbled backward, his sense of purpose a deflating balloon.

  “Don’t touch him!” she said.

  Kyle looked off into the dark distance, the outline of mountains under the starlight, a great unknown. He wanted to walk away, leave his existence. Let the world be under control; he didn’t care anymore.

  “I knew this would happen,” Remmie said. “I figured you’d bust a nut. I don’t want to hear another word about it. The world is at stake. Get over it!”

  Kyle’s thoughts returned to the moment of Rich’s death. Kyle had survived that, sure, but what had gotten him through that was rescuing Remmie. Without that, his killing Rich was meaningless.

  But then he thought of what Victor had been through. And Eli. They’d lost far more than he had, and he felt ashamed for being so weak, so selfish. His eyes traced the outline of the mountains, their grand presence, keeping watch over the valley. So much larger than him and his little circumstances. His life and all that he was before was a lie, an empty pursuit of an illusion. And now he could choose to curl up and die, or fight and live.

  He flushed his feelings for Remmie, taking control of his emotions.

  Remmie watched Kyle as if awaiting a retort, or a tantrum. Kyle had none to offer.

  “I think I’m okay now,” he said. A hopeful smile formed on his face, for a part of him had fallen away, the wall of self-doubt and faux purpose that had always defined him. None of it mattered anymore. The world was suddenly new and he felt light, hopeful, driven. He had been under control, not by Dames, but all the barriers he had created in himself.

  “Frisk them both,” Victor said to Samuel. “Tie them both; throw them in the van.”

  “Is that it?” Remmie’s gaze bounced between Kyle and Victor, then rested on Samuel’s shiny red flats. Bosco still had his arms around her.

  Samuel said to Bosco, “Let go of her and turn around. You can make this difficult for yourself. Either way, it won’t be difficult for me.”

  Bosco and Remmie separated, putting their hands in the air. They looked like a couple of saguaro cactuses, and Kyle chuckled. Remmie’s gaze still belabored him. Then he remembered they were at a public gas station. He looked toward the gas station window. The attendant was fixated on his phone. Good thing they were the only customers.

  Samuel bound Bosco’s hands and pushed him into the van. He tossed Bosco’s keys to Victor.

  Remmie put her arms down and cast a defiant gaze at Victor.

  “I’ll take care of her,” he said.

  Kyle was glad Victor was handling Remmie. He didn’t want to be a part of it. As much as he had released a part of himself, he still cared for her. She had been though a lot, same as he had, and was surely surviving as best she could, dealing with it in her own way.

  She was silent as Victor walked her into the van and bound her hands. Samuel paid the attendant and jumped in the driver’s seat with the rest seated in the back.

  “What about Bosco’s car?” Kyle said.

  “I told the attendant it needed some engine work,” Samuel said, “and to keep it in the garage for the mechanic.” He pulled onto the road. “Hey Vick, we still headed west? Or have plans changed?”

  “Keep heading west, for now.”

  Kyle sat across from Remmie and Bosco. He couldn’t help but look them over. An unlikely combo, but then he really didn’t know Remmie. Or Bosco.

  Victor eyed Remmie. “What’s the story? All of it?”

  Remmie pulled her knees up and looked at Kyle. He felt sympathy again. She was innocent until proven guilty.
Bosco glanced at Kyle from the corner of his eye and seemed to struggle to keep a grin from forming, like he was getting off on the situation.

  “We’ve all been though a lot,” Kyle said to her. “You gotta understand why we have to be skeptical. And running across you and Bosco? The odds would say something isn’t right. Talk to us.”

  “We were taken,” she said. “Down here—Mexico—before you guys arrived at the beach house. Mr. Sands had been expecting you there. But that’s obvious.”

  “Does Rachael have anything to do with your sudden appearance?” Victor said.

  “Rachael?” Bosco said. “We thought she was with you. We knew—”

  “I want to hear it from Remmie.”

  “We don’t know anything about Rachael,” Remmie said. “Mr. Sands knew where you were hiding out. They say your friend, Samuel, was identified by someone working for Mr. Sands. They’ve been watching him. They were expecting you to make a move to spring Eli and me. And Mr. Sands knows we escaped to find you. It was planned—”

  Victor raised his gun. “Planned?”

  “We’re with you! It was planned, but what Mr. Sands didn’t plan for was Bosco and me helping you. It’s a double cross.”

  Victor looked at Kyle, as if waiting for some sort of confirmation. Kyle wasn’t sure what to say. The situation was wicked complicated. But he felt at his core that he could trust Remmie.

  She just wasn’t a bad person.

  FORTY-TWO

  VICTOR SHIFTED AROUND, searching for a position to relieve the cramp forming in his lower back. The floor of the rattling van and its soiled red carpet was jagged, uneven, unstable. He studied Bosco, who seemed confident, relaxed, sitting as if he were headed to a fish fry. There was no way this wasn’t a setup. And what did Victor have to counter it if it was? Remmie sat shoulder to shoulder with Bosco, her pinky finger intertwined with Bosco’s index finger, which was as much as they could manage with their bindings. Could Remmie be trusted? Did she really have anything to lose by allying herself with Mr. Sands? And Kyle was unstable, still reeling from the act of killing, and hung up on Remmie. The only person in the van Victor trusted was Samuel.

  For Victor didn’t even trust himself.

  Kyle watched Remmie and Bosco from the corner of his eye, stealing a full glance every so often.

  Victor said to Kyle, “What really matters to you?”

  Kyle twitched his gaze over. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I asked. What really matters to you?”

  Kyle looked at Remmie for a moment. “My parents matter . . . I want my life back . . . But I want to make it into something more. I’ve learned things about myself in all of this. I’m no longer satisfied with what I was, what I am.”

  “What about this girl here?” Victor nodded to Remmie. “To be honest, I’m toying with the idea of dumping you all by the road and just Samuel and I doing this.”

  Kyle’s eyelids peeled wide. Victor had no intention of dumping them, but he needed to know Kyle was resolved.

  “I was attracted to Remmie at first,” Kyle said, “but she’s not important to me like that. I care, but not in that way.”

  “No?” Remmie leaned forward. “I just knew you’d throw an immature fit over this.”

  “You don’t know me, Remmie, what I’ve been through, what I really think or feel. And I no longer care if you do.” Kyle was matter-of-fact. “I think the people we were a month ago no longer exist. I want to stop Mr. Sands. I want to stop the Dames’ control. The world should have a choice in all this, and we have the power to give it to them. Then I want to live my life differently, figure out what I want to be . . . and be it.”

  Remmie laughed. “I saw your reaction at the gas station. You haven’t changed. Everything you’ve ever said or done is a shallow, self-serving lie to cover up your insecurity. People like you don’t change. Your low self-esteem is a self-fulfilling prophesy.”

  “Human nature is a self-fulfilling prophesy. You as much as me or anybody else.”

  Remmie grunted.

  Victor pondered Kyle’s statement, one he’d told himself many times. Maybe control was just another form of the same kind of thing. Our fate is dealt to us by others, or by choice, or by our own weakness, our own fear of what may or may not be. Dealt by paranoia, in Victor’s own case.

  Kyle said to Remmie, “Why are you so angry? You’ve definitely changed.”

  “I agree,” Victor said, still contemplating self-fulfilling prophesies, choice, and purpose.

  “Yeah, Bosco’s all that, right?” Kyle said. “He’s working for a criminal. He’ll dump you as soon as—”

  “Enough,” Victor gave Kyle a brotherly pat on the back and then said to Remmie, “I don’t trust you. You have changed.”

  Remmie’s features slouched, tired, defeated.

  Victor questioned himself again. He turned to Kyle. “What should we do now? What do the odds tell you?” Victor was starting to trust Kyle again, thinking Kyle was even more balanced than himself. Victor already knew what he was going to do, but to hear it from Kyle, and for the rest to hear it from him, mattered.

  Kyle looked at Remmie. “Our best bet is to go through with this. I don’t like that Remmie is sleeping with the—”

  “My God—” Remmie said.

  “Let Kyle finish please,” Victor said.

  “I trust Remmie,” Kyle said. “Enough to know she’s not in with Mr. Sands. I can’t believe that, and I know she cares about her parents. And I know that even if Mr. Sands convinced her that he would spare them, her, anybody that mattered, she wouldn’t believe him. And I know she has a good heart.”

  Victor knew it was tough for Kyle to say that, but he’d done it. Victor felt some of his weight lift as his confidence in Kyle grew. It was almost easier to breathe.

  Remmie looked pleasantly confused. “Uh . . . thanks for that, Kyle. I think.”

  “I’m not looking for thanks,” Kyle said. “I said it because it’s true. That doesn’t mean I’m happy with you all the sudden. You’re an angry person, and you’ve said a lot of things I don’t like. But I think our best bet is to go through with this, even if Bosco may not be on the up-and-up. And he may be. I’m . . . on the fence about that, actually.”

  “Thanks, man,” Bosco said.

  “We’re coming up on Overlpo,” Samuel said. “What’s the plan?”

  Victor pulled a metallic box out of his back pack, LCD screen on the top. He flipped a small switch on the side and looked at the screen.

  “We’re gonna do this. We’re gonna do it now.”

  “Mr. Sands isn’t expecting this tonight,” Bosco said, “and I’m supposed to notify him.”

  “I still find it a farfetched coincidence that you happened upon us at that gas station,” Samuel said. “I’m not sure of any of this.”

  “There’s only one road to Overlpo,” Bosco said. “We were headed to your safe house. But I was watching for you, in case you were coming our way. And I had a picture of the van to go on. So, it’s not really that farfetched.”

  But they still had a problem. “Does Rachael know where Mr. Sands is? Will she be there? She . . . ” Victor remembered how she’d gotten away. He looked at his feet, ashamed. “I screwed up. Rachael escaped.”

  “There is a place where she can pick up information on the location,” Bosco said, “just in case.”

  “In case of what?” Kyle said.

  “In case she was captured. We have time. It’s good we’re doing this now because it’s always possible that she’ll find a way to get in contact with Mr. Sands, but she doesn’t know about what we’re doing right now. And she couldn’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know.”

  “The people who you say marked Samuel, and us,” Victor said. “Could she get in contact with them?”

  “They don’t know anything other than to watch for activity. They haven’t a clue what’s really going on. Besides, what’s the alternative? Is our plan going to change at this point, what
ever may or may not be?”

  “No, we’re doing this.” Victor pulled out a satellite image of the property. “It looks like the house backs up to a hill or something.”

  “We can approach from the south,” Bosco said.

  “What’s that screen?” Remmie said.

  “I can see everyone. All living presences, with this. It just takes a little time to warm up.” Victor held up his device. “There’s a grid. The device is the center point. As it’s warming up, its range slowly expands until it hits a hundred yards. It emits a signal that reflects off of the Dames. If they’re in an active state, there’s a return signature the device interprets. Likewise, it’ll pick up a different signal on those that aren’t active. I’ll be able to pick up on where everybody is, plus or minus a couple feet, and know if they have Malclenersy or not.”

  “What about others who want to activate the Dames?” Remmie said. “How will we stop it? How can we stop this from ever happening?”

  “By taking one step at a time,” Victor said. “And this is the first step. I may have a way to shut them all down, but I need to do some more testing.” Victor became suspicious of Remmie again. “You having second thoughts, thinking if it’s inevitable then Mr. Sands is safer than the alternative?”

  “The thought has crossed my mind, but it’s better to try and stop it. I do believe in you, Victor.”

  “Let’s worry about taking down Mr. Sands first,” Bosco said.

  FORTY-THREE

  KYLE LOOKED BETWEEN the seats as Samuel pulled into an opening in a pine-oak forest south of Mr. Sands’ safe house. The van clattered over uneven ground into a black abyss. The headlights gave only yards of visibility, with little space to maneuver.

  They emerged in a small opening in the forest.

  Samuel shut off the engine. “Here we are.”