So Leigh sat quietly, thinking about how much danger they might be in—attempting to calculate her personal threat level versusthe Oracle’s. She wondered where they were headed at that moment, and whether Hamza and Miko were all right, and what couldpossibly happen next, taking thorough mental notes toward the moment when she might be able to write it all down.
Will unclenched, sitting upright in a quick, convulsive movement. He looked around the backseat, his hands casting acrossthe leather until they found his shoulder bag, forgotten since they had first entered the car. He ripped it open, fumblinginside until he pulled out a cell phone. He swiped it on, cursed, then flipped it over.
“What is it?” Leigh asked. “What’s the matter?”
Will didn’t answer. He popped open a small compartment on the back of the phone and levered out a small chip of plastic—theSIM card, Leigh realized. He pressed the control to pull down the car’s window and tossed the SIM card out onto Ninth. Then,he removed the phone’s battery and, a block or two farther north, threw that out too. The last item to go was the phone itself.
Leigh noticed the driver was watching the Oracle through the rearview mirror—but he didn’t say anything. The holy veil washolding, at least for the moment.
She understood what Will had done. Hamza had done the same thing, back in the apartment. Phones could be tracked, easily,and the device Will had gotten rid of probably had some connection back to his actual name. She thought about news officesall over the world, and trending topics, and hacker collectives, all, finally, with something to work with. Two words: WillDando.
Leigh tried to imagine it, tried to put herself into Will’s shoes. She couldn’t. Privacy, even the illusion of privacy, wastoo central to how she viewed herself. The ability to decide what parts of you were shared with the world seemed like it shouldbe a basic human right—no longer an option for Will Dando. Everything he’d ever done, or thought, or bought; everyone he’dever slept with; every choice he’d ever made . . . within a day, all that would be public knowledge.
Will reached back into his bag and pulled out a second cell phone. It looked cheaper than the one he had destroyed, less sleek,maybe a prepaid burner. He powered it on and thumb-typed for a moment, then showed the screen to Leigh.
Will: Let’s talk this way?
She reached into her own pocket and removed her cell, opening a similar program and typing for a moment.
Leigh: I get it. Where are we going?
Will: Private airport just outside city. Chartered jet was supposed to take me, H, M to a safe house. Can’t go now.
Leigh: Why?
Will: Paid for plane with Oracle accounts. Don’t know if bad guys made connection—can’t take chance.
Leigh thought about this for a little while before responding.
Leigh: Chance of what? Everyone already knows you’re the Oracle. Why worried now?
Will read her screen, then looked at her, frowning. He typed for a moment, then held up his phone for her to read.
Will: Best friends just almost got killed. Maybe just beginning. You forget?
Leigh recoiled from herself. Of course she hadn’t forgotten—the sight of Miko’s face hitting the sidewalk would be embedded in her soul forever like a tick—but she had just meant . . . it didn’t matter.
Leigh: No. Didn’t forget. I’m sorry. What now?
Will: Still need to go to safe house. H set it up so it wasn’t connected—off grid, bought with cash. Private. Can finish this there.
Leigh: Finish what?
Will hesitated.
Will: Long story. Have to stay hidden until it’s done. If world knows where I am, no peace. Too many questions.
Leigh nodded.
Leigh: Okay. But if you can’t fly, how?
Will looked at the driver, who was ignoring them, concentrating on navigating the slow-moving traffic approaching the bridge across the Hudson. He bent to his phone and went through a long burst of typing.
Will: Need to buy this car. Twenty thousand in bag in trunk. Emergency cash. Can offer to driver.
Leigh responded:
Leigh: He might not own the car. Sometimes they’re just hired by the company.
Will: We’ll figure it out. Will you help me?
Leigh stared at the phone, focused on the last four words, seeing all the opportunity and hazard they offered, trying to understandthe magnitude of the situation she had fallen into. She looked up at the Oracle—no, at Will Dando—trying to see him as a person.Trying to decide whether she should leap from the car and sprint down the side of the road.
An hour later, a strange negotiation with their wary, confused driver was concluded, the Oracle was almost nineteen thousanddollars poorer, and Leigh sat behind the wheel of their new car, driving at a decent clip over the George Washington Bridge.
A sign welcoming them to New Jersey flashed by overhead, momentarily illuminated in their headlights.
“We’re almost over the bridge,” Leigh said. “Then what?”
“West,” the Oracle answered, his eyes on the road ahead. “Then up.”
Part IV
Summer
Chapter 36
This is almost over, Will thought.
He had started with one hundred and eight predictions. All but two had been released into the world in one way or another—postedon the Site, sold, used to prove his bona fides, used to escape from the goddamn president of the United States . . . andnow just two.
One was the numbers, the final prediction, still incomprehensible. The other was just nonsense, a short phrase including sofew details that it was impossible to understand or use. It was set to occur later that day, though, so Will assumed he’dfind out what it meant eventually. The Site would probably use it to do something dire—make Hoover Dam collapse, maybe.
Will glanced out the window, watching as northern Ohio streamed
