Junior didn’t take his eyes off the dark road ahead but he could feel Henry’s gaze on him.
“You should walk away while you still can,” Henry told him.
“It’s all I know,” Junior said.
“No, it’s just all he taught you,” said Henry. “Stop now and you can still be something else.”
Junior gave a short, sarcastic laugh. “Like what? Doctor? Lawyer?”
“Husband,” Henry corrected him. “ Father. All the things this job gives you an excuse not to be. I threw all that away, man. You can do better than that.”
Junior was seized with a sudden intense desire for that to be true, even though he’d never once wondered about having any other kind of life. He had never seen himself doing anything else, never thought he would want to. That was a failure of imagination, he thought; his father had worked very hard to stifle it.
“And while I’m at it,” Henry said, “what the hell is your name?”
“Always been Junior. For Clay, Junior,” he added in response to Henry’s incredulous expression. “Only I’m not so sure about that any more.”
“That’s another reason to quit,” said Henry.
Junior let out a long breath as he took the turnoff for Glennville. He was going to quit, not just because Henry had told him to, but because after this, he would have no choice. And that would be the easy part.
The lights were on in the Winn-Dixie—the manager always came in extra early to get ready for the day. The public library on the next corner was still dark, as was the high school farther up. But the traffic lights were already in regular service; the one at the first intersection went red as soon as he was in sight of it. He never could beat the lights in Glennville.
“This is home,” he said.
Henry looked around. “Nice town.” The other two in the backseat made murmurs of agreement.
Junior blew out a short breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. Glennville had been shabby and in decline for as long as he could remember. It was a sad, rundown place that offered no future, only the remnants of an undistinguished past. The town might have already faded out of existence if Gemini hadn’t been around as life support. Gemini kept Glennville alive because it suited Clay Verris to do so. The town made great camouflage.
“It won’t be easy getting in,” Junior said.
“You’re our ticket, man,” Henry said. “With you, we can walk right in through the front door.”
Junior gave a short, soundless laugh. “Yeah? Then what?”
“We talk to him, together,” Henry replied. “You and me. If he has any humanity left in him, he’ll listen.”
Junior frowned. “What if he doesn’t?”
Henry shrugged. “Then we both kick his ass. Together. You and me.”
They were still sitting at the light when the phone in Junior’s shirt pocket rang. He took it out and showed Henry the screen: DAD.
“Guess who,” Henry said, amused.
In the backseat, Baron sat forward eagerly. “Ooh, can I answer? Please let me answer. I want to be the one to tell him we’re all BFFs now.”
For a moment, Junior was tempted; then he put the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Are you with Brogan?” Verris asked, his voice urgent.
“Why would I be with him?” Junior said, trying to sound innocently offhand and not at all like the man he was supposed to have killed was sitting next to him. “You sent me to AMF him, didn’t you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Verris said. “Just run!”
“Huh?”
“Run!” Verris yelled. “Get away from him. Now! Please, Junior! I just want you safe!”
Junior laughed, slightly bewildered. “Why? Because I’m your favorite experiment?” The traffic light changed from red to green and he put the Jeep in gear.
“No, because I’m your father and I love you, son. Run!” At the same moment, Junior saw a bright white flash ahead of him and knew immediately he was in trouble. They all were.
Releasing his seatbelt, he opened the door. “Everybody out!” he yelled and jumped.
As soon as Henry saw the flash, he knew even before he heard Junior yell that they were on the wrong end of an RPG.
“Bail!” Henry shouted. He tumbled out of the Jeep, rolling over and over on the asphalt, coming to rest not far from Danny, who already had her weapon in hand. Before he could look for Baron, the RPG hit.
The sound of the blast was merciless. Henry covered his ears, felt the ground shake as the shockwave slammed into him; he had a glimpse of Danny sliding backwards on her stomach as the explosion shoved her off the road. He put up an arm to shield himself from chunks of asphalt and dirt flying at him. The blast blew a crater into the street and flipped the Jeep into the air end over end like a flimsy toy; it was completely engulfed in flames. Squinting against the brightness and the heat, Henry saw both doors on the passenger side flapping open but only one on the driver’s side. Then, over the stink of hot metal and burning tires, that smell hit him in the face, forced itself up his nose.
“Baron!” Henry jumped to his feet and ran toward the burning Jeep but the heat was too much for him, the heat and the smell, awful, sickening, and all too familiar from his time in the Corps, the smell that told him Baron hadn’t made it out with the rest of them.
And now Danny was pulling on his arm, telling him he had to back off, she knew, she knew, but he had to stay back.
“Are you hit?” he asked her.
She shook her head and kept on trying to pull him away from the burning wreckage. Henry looked around, his eyes stinging from the smoke, until he finally found Junior standing on the other side of the street.
In the light from the flames, Henry could see the storm of emotions on his face—horror, fear, guilt, disbelief, betrayal. It hadn’t been Henry’s chip they had zeroed in on—Junior had removed it. Henry felt his heart break all over again, for Junior, for Danny, for himself, and for Baron.
Junior’s eyes met his and for a long moment, something like a powerful current of energy ran between them, holding them there in the terrible light from the burning Jeep. Henry couldn’t move, couldn’t speak; he could only stare.
You should have run, Henry thought at Junior, and it was almost as if Junior really were his younger self and it was possible to tell the twenty-three-year-old Henry Brogan that it wasn’t too late to take a different direction. You should run for your life—your real life, not whatever this is. You should run and never look back.
And then, as if Junior had heard what Henry was thinking, he turned and ran into the darkness.
CHAPTER 19
Danny was sobbing as she yanked at Henry’s arm, trying to get him farther away from the Jeep still burning in the middle of Main Street. “Henry, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry but please, please! We have to go!”
Henry pushed her hands away, twisted out of her grip. “It’s my fault, I brought him into this.” He wiped his eyes, stinging from the smoke. The stench of burning tires mixed with that smell turned his stomach. “I told you to go home, man—” He broke off as he heard the sound of another vehicle approaching.