There was radio silence, which I figured indicated yet another behind-the-scenes Djinn smackdown, and then David said, “I’ll make sure they’re safe. Don’t try anything before I bring the car back.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” I reached in the back and grabbed one stuffed duffel bag loaded with water, food, insulating blankets, a flashlight, batteries, guns, ammo . . . everything a girl needs on vacation, except tanning oil and makeup. We’d packed them in individual bags, in case we had to grab and got separated. Good thinking on our part, and it paid off now, because with one final smile at Cherise, and a wink, I stepped out of the car, shouldered the duffel bag, and started jogging up the deserted road toward the distant shimmer of buildings. Before I’d taken two strides, the Mustang’s engine fired up, and I heard tires screech as it did a one-eighty, heading back toward Amarillo.
Damn, that thing was fast.
My jog settled into a walk after a while. The day was bright, but not too hot, mercifully. I could sense that the land was troubled around me, restless, and I began to extend my awareness out. There were living things around me, lots of them, mostly small, but all universally pissed off, thanks to the influence of the Mother. I was more worried about a snake coming after me than a lightning bolt. I’d have a lot more warning from the lightning bolt.
My watch clocked in fifteen minutes before I had the perimeter of the building fully in sight. I slowed down and stopped, because there wasn’t a lot of cover, and I was fairly certain that even thinking about strolling up to the gates was strongly discouraged. I sat down and had some water. Four separate colonies of fire ants were making tracks in my direction, streaming with grim purpose over rocks and dirt. Next to full- fledged army ants, fire ants were one of the creepiest warrior insects out there, in terms of their dedication to a cause. I formed a barrier that fended them off, respectfully keeping a good twenty-foot distance between them and me. Piles of ants started forming, trying to scale the invisible wall. They’d keep doing that, forming ladders and chains out of their own bodies, climbing and climbing, until they found a way over, or gravity toppled them.
Like I said. Committed.
My cell phone rang. The cheerful tones sounded even more out of place here than they normally did, and I slapped at my pockets quickly, trying to muffle it. I was too far away for the perimeter guards to hear anything that small, but it still spooked me.
I turned off the ringer and looked at the screen.
It was Lewis.
“I talked to Cherise,” he said. “She told me about Kevin.”
Oh, God. I hadn’t thought—Of course she had. Of course she would. I heard the anguish in his voice. “He—he was trying to protect us,” I said. “I’m so sorry. He was—” Was what? A good kid? He hadn’t been, really. But he’d tried. “He was brave.” Yes. He was that.
He cleared his throat. “Okay,” he agreed, and sounded grateful. “Cherise tells me you’re back on the playing field, Jo. You and David.”
“David’s more cheerleader right now than suited up to play, but that’s better than nothing.” I swallowed and clutched the phone tighter. “We almost didn’t make it, Lewis. I thought I was going to lose him.”
“I’m pretty sure he thought the same about you. But I knew you’d come through. You always do.” He let a second pass, then changed the subject. “I need you to do something for us.”
“Ready.” I already knew it wouldn’t be picking flowers, or even something easy that a lower- level Warden would do. He saved the worst jobs for his best people.
“I need you to distract the attention of the Djinn. I need something big, spectacular, and damaging that they’ll have to deal with directly. Do you think you can do that?”
My mouth went dry, and I sipped more water before I could answer. “What are we talking about, Lewis?”
“We need to hit her back,” he said. “We’re playing defense, Jo, and we’re getting slaughtered. Get her attention, pull her to your location, and the Djinn will follow. We’ll head toward you as fast as we possibly can. You won’t be alone.”
Actually, I would be, and he knew it. The Wardens could only travel so fast, and the Djinn could be anywhere they wanted, when they wanted. Not even close to a race.
He was asking me to do something that would make a significant sting to the Earth, and then he was asking me to stand still while the Djinn came to destroy me.
There was a name for that: suicide bomber. And me, sitting here next to a plant chock full of plutonium, uranium, and nuclear weapons. I could do the math, and the math divided by zero.
“Lewis,” I said slowly. “You understand what you’re asking me to do?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Believe me, I do understand. But they’re targeting our Warden network, and it’s folding. Once that’s broken, things will get worse again, very fast, and there’ll be nothing we can do to stop it. We’ve got only about another day, Jo, before they destroy every Warden on the planet. After that, it won’t even be a week before humanity is purged down to almost nothing. It’s extinction. This is the best move we have.”
“And better me than you,” I said. “I don’t mean that in a cruel way. The Wardens need a leader, and you’ve got us this far. I understand that you need to go on.” I gulped in an unsteady breath. “I don’t. I get it.”
“Jo . . .” There was so much torment in that one whisper, so much horror and frustration, that I wanted to reach through the phone and hold him, this man who was sending me to my death. “Only somebody of your quality could do this in the first place, and minimize loss of life. You’re my only choice. I wish it was—” His voice failed, broken, and all I heard was harsh, uneven breathing as he tried to get hold of himself again.
I felt a wave of resentment pass over me. How many times? How many times do I have to be the one who gives? It was a valid question. I’d worked my ass off for the Wardens, I’d saved them time and time again. Why did it have to be me, again?
One thing about waves: they pass. The emotion peaked, then receded, and in its wake I felt . . . calm. Oddly centered.
“I’ll get them here,” I said. “I’ll hold them here as long as I can. Lewis?”
“Yeah?” His voice was low and husky, choked with what he couldn’t say.
“Make it worth it.”
“No pressure.” There—some of his usual dark humor was back in place, armor against the world. I laughed.
“No pressure,” I assured him, and just before I pressed the END CALL button, I whispered, “I always loved you, just a little bit. Bye.”
I cut the signal before I could hear his response, if he could have managed to make one. I didn’t think David would have objected to me saying that. It was true, and it was the last chance I’d have to make that particular statement count.
Silence. I listened to the wind, which was blowing in from the north, bringing the bitter taste of sand out of Oklahoma. Red dust, filming the horizon. The sun was a fierce, hard ball in the sky, heading west, dropping on its predetermined course without any thought at all for whatever happened here on this complicated little oasis of life. I’d always wondered if other planets had some kind of vast awareness, too; maybe Earth got into neighborhood scraps with Venus and Mars, or yelling matches with big bully Jupiter. Maybe the sun had its own voice, its own life. Maybe the entire universe was alive with life, in forms we couldn’t recognize because we were too limited in our sight.
I finished my water, closed my eyes, and thought about God. My mother was a church-going woman, and I had grown up in Sunday school and after-school programs. It hadn’t damaged me, but it hadn’t altogether satisfied me, either. I wanted to know answers, and religion expected me to have faith.
Maybe religion had been right, and the answers were too vast, too complex, and too hard for me to begin to grasp, but that didn’t mean I wanted to stop trying.