The sound of Miko’s head knocking against the concrete.
Leigh was a risk, but he needed to get west, soon—because things were accelerating—and she could get him there. As long asthe illusion of the Oracle held up, with all the leverage it brought him, all the things she thought he knew, they shouldbe fine.
That was partly why he had kept the radio off, and why he’d kept conversation to a minimum. If Leigh learned too much aboutWill Dando, the man sitting next to her might stop being the all-powerful Oracle and become just a kid on his bike, rushingdown a hill, wondering how he was going to die.
All that, and underneath and above and around it all, sick worry for Hamza and Miko. He didn’t know their condition and couldn’tcall—didn’t even know where they were. For all he knew, they were back at Quantico, being questioned by that asshole Leuchten.
Will eyed the radio, that saucy temptress, holding out its promise of world news that wasn’t a day out of date.
“Just for a few minutes,” he said out loud, earning him a raised eyebrow from Leigh.
He pressed the power button.
“—don’t know the Oracle,” Hamza said, his voice tainted with a slight overlay of static, “but if I did, I’d tell him to justkeep doing what he’s doing. My wife and I were hurt in the attack by Hosiah Branson’s people, but that’s not his fault. He’ssaved a lot of lives, helped a lot of people. I don’t want what happened to us to stop him from what he’s doing. I think he’sa hero.”
“Holy shit,” Leigh said, “is that Hamza?”
“Yes,” Will said, listening, understanding the gift that Hamza was giving him.
A second voice—a woman, assured and confident.
“You claim not to know the Oracle, but as we know, he’s been revealed to be a man named Will Dando, whom you definitely do know. You went to high school with him, and we’ve spoken to people who say you two are extremely close friends. And yet—”
“He hasn’t been revealed as the Oracle. Reverend Hosiah Branson just claimed he’s the Oracle. I didn’t hear any proof—butthen again, I didn’t have much time to listen before my pregnant wife and I were attacked by an angry mob Branson sent ourway.”
“That’s how you see it?” the interviewer asked.
“Not just me,” Hamza said. “I spent the morning speaking with extremely skilled and expensive attorneys, and they all agree.Branson spent months convincing his millions of followers that the Oracle’s the devil. Then, he claimed Will is the Oracleand released his name and address on live TV. Branson knew exactly what would happen. That’s attempted murder. He is a criminal,and I intend to do everything I can to make sure he pays for the injuries to me, my wife, and our unborn child.”
“And Will Dando?” the interviewer asked. “No one has seen him since the attacks outside his apartment.”
“I have no idea,” Hamza said. “But if I were him, I would be far away, under the radar, getting ready to sue the shit outof Hosiah Branson.”
“There we have it,” the interviewer said. “Strong words from Hamza Sheikh, victim of an attack by a mob seeking the Oracle.After the break, we’ll have our legal experts on to discuss the merits of the sort of claims Mr. Sheikh described.”
A commercial began, and Will reached forward to turn off the radio.
“He was setting me free,” he said, looking at Leigh.
“Wait,” she said. “Did you know he was going to be on the radio?”
“No,” he said.
“Then how did you . . .”
“Because I’m the Oracle,” Will answered, lying and telling the truth at the same time.
Leigh took her eyes off the road for a minute, evaluating him.
“You said he set you free,” she said. “Set you free to do what? What does that mean?”
“Right now, it means driving,” Will said.
“Seriously?” she said, her voice tense. “You are aware that all this is . . . a little terrifying?”
“I know,” Will said. “I’m sorry. I’ll explain more when I can. Right now, it’s probably safer if we just keep going.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry to tell you this, but this is over. We have to stop.”
Will whipped his head to the left to stare at Leigh.
“What? Why?”
She turned and stared back at him for a moment, then her mouth turned upward into a smile.
“Because we’re almost out of gas,” she said.
“Jesus,” Will said, exhaling.
Leigh laughed.
“I’m sorry, man, I just wanted to fuck with you a little bit. Send a little of that terror back your way.”
“Yeah,” Will said. “I probably deserved it.”
“Wig time,” she answered.
Will looked up to see that they were pulling off the expressway. He popped open the glove compartment, revealing a blond wig,a baseball cap, and a pair of sunglasses—replacements for the disguise he’d lost back at the Waldorf when the coach had foundthem.
Leigh tsked in disapproval as they pulled into the gas station.
“Over eight bucks a gallon,” she said.
“Yeah,” Will answered, adjusting the baseball cap over the wig. “Hard to believe.”
But it wasn’t. The Site had been pushing up gas prices for months. All part of its devotion to making the entire world a poisoned,awful mess.
Will reached for his wallet and pulled out three twenties, handing them to Leigh, not without a twinge. They had at leasta four-day drive ahead of them. ATMs weren’t an option—they were just as trackable as cell phones, and his accounts were alllinked to his name or Oracle-related businesses, all of which he had to assume were blown by now. They’d started the drivewith about a thousand dollars, but between food and gas and cheap hotels and the daily newspaper budget, it would vanish quickly.
Will heard Leigh pop open the gas tank cover and start to fill the tank. He reached for the notebook again, flipping throughit, trying to make sense of all the lists and diagrams and seeing nothing more
