interstate.
“We sleep here tonight,” Six says. “Actually, we’ll take turns sleeping.”
Sam opens his door and turns his body sideways to dangle his feet out of the SUV. “Um, guys? I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but well, I got cut pretty bad back there and it’s really starting to hurt and I think I’m about to pass out.”
“What?” I scramble out of the vehicle and stand in front of him. He pulls up the dirty right leg of his jeans to reveal a wound above the knee that’s slightly smaller than a credit card, though probably an inch deep. Dried and fresh blood cover his knee and shin.
“Good lord, Sam,” I say. “When did that happen?”
“Right before I got ahold of that Mog’s sword. I kind of pulled it out of my leg.”
“All right, come on, get out of the car,” I say. “Get on the ground.”
Six shoves her head under Sam’s armpit and helps him to the ground.
I open the back and retrieve the healing stone from the Chest. “Better hold on to something, man. This might . . . sting.” Six offers her hand, and he takes it. The second I press the stone to his wound he writhes in agony as every muscle tightens. It seems like he’s going to pass out. The skin around his wound turns white, then black, then to the bright red color of blood; and I immediately regret attempting to use the stone on a human. Did Henri ever say it won’t work on them? I’m trying to remember as Sam lets out a long-winded groan that empties him of air. The outer edge of the wound seals inward and then disappears altogether. Sam relaxes his grip on Six’s hand, and he slowly regains his breath. After a minute he’s able to sit up.
“Man, do I ever want to be an alien,” he finally says. “You guys get to do way too many cool things.”
“You had me worried there for a second, buddy,” I say. “Wasn’t sure if it would work on you since some of the other stuff from the Chest doesn’t.”
“Me either,” Six adds. She leans over and kisses him on his dirty cheek. Sam lies back down and sighs. Six laughs and rubs her hand over his head of stubble, and I’m surprised by how much jealousy bubbles inside me.
“Do you want to go to the hospital?” I ask.
“I want to stay right here,” he says. “Forever.”
“You know what? We were pretty lucky we were out on that walk,” Six says after we settle back into the SUV.
“You’re right,” I say.
Sam places his right cheek on his headrest so he can look at both of us. “Why were you guys out walking in the first place?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Neither could Six,” I answer, which technically is the truth, but it doesn’t take away the guilt. I know that Sarah is the girl for me, but I can’t seem to stop these new feelings I have.
Six sighs. “You know what this means, right?”
“What?”
“They’ve probably opened my Chest.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“No, I don’t. But after I grabbed that rock from your Chest and it started pulsing and hurting my hand, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling I got from it. And it just now came to me that it probably has something to do with my Chest.”
“They’ve had your Chest for three years now,” I say. “So you think it’s possible for them to open the Chests without us, without us being dead?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? But I have this feeling that they got into mine and that when I touched that stone it somehow led the scouts to our house.”
“Why send so few?” Sam asks between yawns. “I mean, why not wait for reinforcements before attacking?”
“Maybe they got scared and panicked?” Six offers.
“Maybe one of them wanted to be the hero,” I say.
Six rolls down her window and listens. When she’s satisfied, she says, “Regardless. Next time there will be more of them. Pikens and krauls and whatever else they can throw at us.”
“You’re probably right,” Sam whispers. He’s drifting off. “I’ll tell you one thing. This being on the run is really wearing me down.”
“Try doing it for eleven years,” I say.
“I think I’m a little homesick,” he mumbles.
I lean forward and see that in his lap he’s holding his father’s old glasses, the ones with the thick lenses he used to wear in Paradise.
“It’s not too late to go back, Sam. You know that, right?”
He frowns. “I’m not going back.” It’s with far less conviction this time around than when he had first said it in the North Carolina motel. “Not until I find my dad. Or until I at least learn what happened to him.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “We’ll figure it out eventually.” I turn back to Six. “So, where do we head tomorrow morning?”
“Now that it seems they opened my Chest, I guess we’ll see where the wind carries us. It hasn’t let me down yet,” she says in a wistful sort of tone, then glances over at me. “Did you know that if it wasn’t for the wind and my need for caffeine one night in Pennsylvania, the night before the attack in Paradise, I’d have never gotten there in time?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I was drifting through the Midwest, sensing you guys were in Ohio or in West Virginia or Pennsylvania after I found some news online of what I thought was probably the handiwork of Mogs in Athens near that college; but after a few weeks of coming up empty, I was certain I’d lost your trail. I figured you guys had taken off for California or Canada by that point. So there I was, standing in the parking lot of this strip mall, tired and lost, practically broke, when this huge gust of wind ripped past me and blew open the door to a coffee shop on my left. I thought I would refuel and get back out there and figure something out, but in the corner of the shop was an open computer for customers. I bought a large coffee and started searching the internet. Sure enough, I found an article about the house on fire that you jumped out of.”
I’m embarrassed to know how easy it was to find me. No wonder Henri wanted to keep me home or at school all the time.
“If it wasn’t for that gust of wind opening that door, I would have probably ended up in a diner instead, sipping coffee until daylight. I wrote down all the information I could find on you guys and then I ran down the street looking for an all-night copy place. That’s when I sent the fax and the letter with my number, to try to warn you guys or, at the very least, to tip you off so you could brace yourselves until I got there. And I arrived just in the nick of time.”
Chapter Eighteen
THE WIND CARRIES US NORTH TO AN ALABAMA motel where we stay two nights, again thanks to Sam using one of my identities. From there we drive west and spend a night beneath the stars in an open field in Oklahoma, which we follow up with two more nights in a Holiday Inn on the outskirts of Omaha, Nebraska. And from there, for no apparent reason-at least for no reason she’ll admit to-Six drives one thousand miles east to rent a log cabin nestled in the mountains of the Maryland panhandle, a mere five-minute drive to the West Virginia border, and three short hours from the Mogadorian cave. We’re exactly 197 miles from Paradise, Ohio, where our journey first began. Half a tank of gas from Sarah.
Before my eyes even open, I can already feel it’s going to be a tough day, one of those days when the reality of Henri’s death will hit me like a sledgehammer and no matter what I do, the pain won’t leave. I’ve been having these days more often. Days filled with remorse. Filled with guilt. Filled with a genuine sadness to know I’ll never