knew, that had recently been replaced. Tall fences topped by razor wire ringed the perimeter.

“Let’s get out of here,” Shakes said. “That place always gives me the creeps. It’s why I hate taking these back roads. Seekers can suck it.”

She exhaled slowly, relieved to find out it was just a coincidence. The truck gained speed when a trail of black smoke flashed across their windshield.

“What was that?” Farouk asked nervously.

“I’ll check it out,” Wes said, and popped through the moon roof, goggles on. “Something’s going down.”

There was another black flash, and puffs of smoke, a crackling sound that rippled across the snow banks, and from afar he saw three figures running. Wes fell back to his seat. “Breakout. Looks like a few convicts are trying to escape tonight.”

“Breakout? It’s a jail?” Farouk asked.

“No, loser, it’s a hospital,” Daran sniggered. “You never heard of MacArthur Med?”

“You mean one of the treatment centers? For the marked?”

“Bingo,” said Zedric with a cruel smile.

Wes stood back up through the open hatch and looked around. “Two patrols chasing, one on either side of us, running parallel. We’re pinned in here.”

Shakes called up to his friend, “Let’s just run between them.”

Wes nodded.

“What are you doing?” Nat asked, twisting her hands in her lap.

“Just pretending we’re one of them. At this distance, we look like another patrol. If they don’t get too close, we’ll be fine. Relax.”

Gunfire rang in the distance, along with the sounds of shouting and screaming. The Slaine boys took their places by the window, guns trained on the horizon.

Wes slid back down and tapped Shakes on the shoulder. “Drive slowly—let them inch away from us.”

The truck moved forward and the atmosphere inside was tense. Patrols still flanked them on both sides as they made their way past. Wes cursed suddenly and they all saw why.

In the distance, the fences along the perimeter narrowed on both sides toward a checkpoint; the path they were taking was leading them right to the guardhouse. “Double back, Shakes, double back,” Wes said.

“It’s a long way back,” said Nat. “Won’t it look suspicious?”

“It will, but we’ve got no choice.” He pointed the way to Shakes. “Take us back.”

Shakes turned the truck, which kicked up more snow, spinning its tires in a mush of icy, wet dirt. The sound of gunfire grew louder. They heard a scream and saw the sky turn black with smoke again—their only escape was taking them closer to the prisoners.

A hard thud shook the truck, followed by footsteps scrambling on the roof of their LTV. Through the windows Nat saw a trio of escapees headed for the cover of the nearest snowbank, all wearing the familiar gray pajamas. Then one of them fell, facedown, a bullet in his back.

“Don’t shoot!” Wes ordered his boys.

“Wasn’t us!” Zedric yelled.

“We’ve got to help them,” Nat whispered urgently, catching Wes’s eye. “Please.”

Wes snorted. “Help them? Unless you’ve got a pimp roll full of heat credits, you’re the only cargo I’m taking on.” He looked at her closely. “What do you care?”

Nat turned away, willing the tears in her eyes to stop; she had revealed too much. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. He didn’t know anything about her, and she swore to keep it that way from now on.

Do not despair. They will find their own way, the voice murmured, but Nat felt her stomach twist: Here she was, in the safety of the truck, while outside, her friends—her friends were dying. People like her, hunted and killed.

“Shakes—just plow through the fence—look, there’s a hole over there—we’ll just rip it through,” Wes ordered.

The truck barreled through the nearest fence, ripping through the metal with an ugly screech, but soon they were back on the road, and moving at a fast clip, taking them farther and farther away.

Nat didn’t look back.

13

THE BACK ROADS TURNED TO OUT TO BE more of a challenge than Wes had expected. The smooth snow-covered landscape concealed many obstacles. The ice hid tree stumps and posts, guard rails and ditches. There was no way to prepare; he only figured it out when the wheels hit them or when the hidden junk crashed against a side panel. He’d made the offer to take her back so that the boys could know he was looking out for them, but also because he wanted her to know the exact nature of the dangers they would be facing. The night had brought another blizzard and they were traveling in complete darkness again, with only the headlights of the LTV to guide their way.

He wondered about the girl next to him. It was obvious she knew about MacArthur, as well as the people living in the wastelands, which meant this wasn’t her first time at the rodeo. He guessed she’d probably tried to get out of the country before. She was a liar and a thief. Wes had pegged her correctly from the moment she had hired them and yet he couldn’t help but admire her anyway.

Nah, you just think she’s pretty, he chided himself. But, really, she’s nothing special. There are lots of pretty girls back in New Veg. Jules had been one, for sure, but his memory of Jules—of her thick, brown, almost russet-colored hair and smoke-gray eyes—had faded a little. All he could think about was Nat. The way they had smiled at each other earlier, the way she had placed her hand on his arm . . .

Which got him thinking—if she did like him or at least liked the looks of him—he might have an opening there; maybe he could use it to his advantage. That stone she wore around her neck was awfully pretty. It was all so messed up: He liked her, and he wanted her to like him, but only so he could use it against her later. Definitely messed up. But what choice did he have?

She had taken the chips without caring what happened to him. Could he do the same to her? He would have to at some point.

“Hey, come on, let me take a shift,” Nat offered. “You’re still healing from that shot.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, switching places with her. He massaged his shoulder. “Thanks, by the way,” he added, to be polite. He noted there was a distance between them again and was relieved at that.

Nat drove while Wes kept an eye out for drones in the sky or any sign of a seeker team. He was glad for the distraction; it kept him from thinking about her and he was already thinking about her too much. But as they drove, Wes found he wasn’t cut out for silence either. The Slaine boys weren’t talking to him, giving him the cold shoulder to make it clear they didn’t care for the mess back at MacArthur and his decision to travel off-road. Shakes was asleep, and Farouk was resting.

“Hard to believe this was all desert once,” he said, deciding a conversation would be harmless enough.

“Desert—what’s that?” Nat joked. “I grew up in Ashes.”

He grunted. The city was one of the coldest outposts in the country.

“Ever seen pictures of what it looked like Before? Rolling dunes, cacti?” she asked. “You know what it used to be called right?”

“Phoenix,” he replied. “But the Phoenix is gone, and all that’s left is Ashes.”

“Poetic,” she said.

“Told you, there’s more to me than meets the eye.” He smiled, flirting with her again, in spite of himself.

“Can’t be much,” she said slyly.

“Want to find out?” he said playfully.

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