“I once saw in a movie how people threw their phone onto a car driving in the opposite direction they were heading. If we could find a pickup truck or something similar that would be the perfect deception.” Lilly’s excitement is tangible. It rushes through our veins like an electrical current. Her plan could actually work.
“Before we get rid of it, we should delete all the data. Hurry, put the phone back to the factory setting.” I’ve not even finished the sentence and Luke already taps buttons and icons. The grin on his face shows me he likes the idea. Bless him.
“Can we go now? I’d rather throw the phone into the bushes and leave than wait for a pick-up truck.”
“We have a better chance if whoever Helen sends after us is looking in the wrong direction. It can’t take long for a suitable car to come along.”
We wait and doubt about my decision sneaks up on me. The disadvantage of driving early in the morning is there is not much traffic. A few vehicles that passed us slowed when they saw our emergency lights but didn’t stop. We wait for over ten minutes until a pickup truck comes along and stops. Going by the sign on the driver’s door, it’s a plumber from Tauranga. The driver rolls down his window.
“Need any help?”
“Thanks, we’re fine. Just had to get my bearings.” Luke fought with the roadmap trying to fold it again.
“Where’re you headed?”
“East Coast, Opotiki. And you, sir?”
“Best take the route via Rotorua then. I’m headed to Whakatane. If you’re not sure about the route, you are welcome to follow me.”
“Thanks for your kind offer. It looks pretty straight forward.”
I’m so proud of Luke. He always keeps calm, even in dicey situations. He lifts his hand for a goodbye as the plumber drives on. Then Luke throws the phone into the back of the guy’s truck, where it disappears between copper pipes and a toolbox. He grins at me and rubs his hands.
“That was a cool trick.”
Yes, that was a pretty cool trick, if I may say so myself. If they follow our phone to the east coast, we’ll be long gone in the opposite direction. I watch the pickup truck disappear in the distance and send the driver a silent Godspeed.
“Are we there yet?” The worried note in Ama’s question pushes into my thoughts.
“Is everything alright?”
“The little ones are stirring. I don’t know how much longer I can keep them in their rooms.”
Ama is not a drama queen. When she’s concerned, she has a good reason. We can’t have restless, frightened kids pop into the body and push Luke aside. That’s a recipe for disaster on so many levels, I shudder at the thought of it.
“They must have picked up on Luke’s tension and Amadeus’ anger.” It’s easy to forget we are not a group of separate people but inhabit the same body. We share the same brain as Miss Marple always says. The more we become a functioning unit, the more we’re affected by each other’s thoughts and feelings. At times like this, I look back longingly to the years of solid separation. Dissociation isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s a blessing. Right this moment it could make or break our escape.
“We have another seven hours or so ahead of us until we can board the midday ferry in Wellington. The crossing to the South Island takes about four hours, and then another five hours to Port Somers. Please, Ama, try to keep the kids in lockdown for as long as possible.”
My voice is getting weaker. Being involved drains my energy and I’m fading. I become like a day-curtain, see-through and barely there. I need a rest to be at my best. We all have to bring our A-game for our escape to succeed. There is no room for slacking off. I know Luke will step up. Everything depends on him doing what he is good at—driving and getting us to a safe spot. He won’t disappoint today. As soon as the thought crystallizes in my mind, I’m pulled to my room in the tree house.
I must have been asleep for a few hours because it’s daylight now. We have left the Waikato plains and are now driving through quaint hills. The familiar humming of the motor spreads like a calming, soft blanket over us. I can’t detect any agitation among the younger tribe members, only a gentle floating of souls in tune with the classical Spanish guitar music coming from the radio. Luke knows we all like it. He’s so intuitive for a young man.
He knows I’m back and points his finger to the dip between the two mountain ranges at the horizon.
“That’s Taumarunui down there. We should be in Wellington in five hours. Just in time for the midday crossing to Picton.”
A sigh of relief slips from my lips and my gaze follows the road ahead as it snakes down the hill and cuts through farmland. Is it too early to say our getaway has been a success? Never before have we come this far. Even if the police send out a search call for us, our number plate switch will trick them. Helen will have them look for a forty-two-year-old woman, and Luke looks nothing like a woman in his jeans, white t-shirt, a red and black checkered Swanndri jacket, his beloved All Blacks baseball cap, and John Lennon sunglasses. With luck, it’ll be plain sailing all the way. Well, as plain as we would ever sail.
“Sky, why is Helen so mad at us? Why does someone always have to have an eye on us? It doesn’t make sense. Lilly said Helen is up to something.” Luke doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but I can tell, he’s been pondering for a while the strange comment Dr. Storm made yesterday evening.
“I think so too.” I move closer to let him know I’m right behind
