Faded Flare
Page 5
“That always makes me feel better,” Sirena said dreamily.
Henley’s grin slipped a bit. Was the not-quite-human also a sociopath?
“Do you also box?” she asked Henley. “I’d love to spar if you’re up for it. I have a lot of tension.”
Reassured, Henley said, “That was my first fight. If the rest of our trip continues with this guy giving orders and keeping the rest of us in the dark, I might take you up on trying again. Though I’m not sure it’ll have the same effect—hitting you over him.”
“You can try imagining his face on mine. I don’t mind.”
“I’ll let you know,” Henley said though she had no intention of doing so.
As much as she did anticipate her frustration rising the longer she was trapped with the Bus, she couldn’t allow herself that satisfaction without exposing her own secret.
Though it was possible Buster knew it now. That was unfair. She was still unsure what he was refusing to reveal. Her secret had only been kept to avoid embarrassment. She decided she didn’t care if Buster knew. He wouldn’t say anything; he didn’t say much at all, evidently.
If he did, she could hit him again.
“You weren’t modified for strength.”
“No, but my modifications do give me a lot of reason to vent,” Sirena snapped back at Jen’s observation.
Perhaps that was why Sirena was a fan of punching: she was also a misfit and couldn’t very well hide it with a glove. Sirena’s strange multicolored eyes and green hair made her look truly ethereal when her face lit up, pleased at having found kinship in Henley. They were more alike than Sirena knew.
“Oh, a sign to the airport,” Jen crowed. “Is that where we’re heading? I’ve never been on a plane.” She turned the wheel.
“No! I didn’t direct you to exit,” Buster admonished crossly.
The car jerked back in lane, tipping Sirena and Henley. “You gonna make me drive us across the whole freaking country?” Jen exclaimed.
“No,” Bus repeated.
“Oh, because the location’s so hidden, you have to take over and do it yourself? What are you gonna do, blindfold us, too, so we won’t be able to recall how to get there?”
“Blindfold?” Sirena was horrified, then her eyes narrowed at the front passenger seat. “I won’t let you.” If she boxed, Henley believed she wouldn’t let him.
“No,” he said a third time.
“Stop saying no, and answer the question,” Henley snapped.
He sighed. “We are not using the airport. BTI-developed equipment is also used by airport security.”
They were everywhere, Henley marveled. No wonder they could afford her funding. It also explained how strict they were. Their tech needed the protection Henley had been designing to remain as prominent and steadfast as its roles required.
“So?” Jen demanded. “Use the engineer who deals with that crap. Then she has a purpose and can stop damn-well asking to have a job in this group.”
Henley lit up. “I could probably do that.”
“No. It’s too risky. And once on a plane, we have no escape if we’re followed.”
Henley deflated.
“So, I’m driving for days? That’s a lame trade-off. No first-time in a plane, let alone a chance at the mile-high club with the pilot, and I have to do all the work?”
“No.”
Henley growled on both her and Jen’s behalves.
“It might be better if you said nothing at all,” Sirena observed. “Or you’ll get punched again.”
He disregarded Sirena’s advice. “We will take turns. You will get tired, and we cannot afford to stop for a rest,” Buster said as though sleeping were an unfortunate weakness he wished Jen didn’t have.
He should be more sympathetic to that plight, as he saw it. He was human too. Henley eyed Sirena. Did she need to sleep? She and Jen claimed she was essentially human.
As if anticipating Henley’s comment, Sirena said, “Don’t count me. I don’t have a good history with cars. I have only driven once… that I know of—and it didn’t go well.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t really leave the lab,” Jen confirmed. “Didn’t you wonder why you were pale as a ghost?”
“Don’t call me that,” Sirena snapped.
Henley didn’t appreciate being called pale either, yet Sirena’s vehemence seemed extreme. She certainly had other characteristics that Henley thought would be more touchy.
“Well, you are pale.” Jen was just stating the obvious.
“Not that. Ghost.” Sirena didn’t elaborate, leaving everyone speculating but too fearful to question further.
Though she didn’t have a metal hand, Sirena seemed like she was trained in boxing and had enough warning in her tone to prevent anyone checking that fact.
She broke the tension she’d created. “My paleness isn’t another modification?”
“To an extent. You’re capable of withstanding much lower thresholds of vitamin D than a normal human.” Jen switched into BTI scientist mode. “Altering your pigments to improve underwater camouflage also impacted your skin tone, but it wasn’t intentional. You’d look less tasty to submarine predators, like sharks, if you didn’t light up like a glowstick.”
“Or prey,” Sirena mumbled to herself, looking out the window.
“Don’t worry. I haven’t seen sunlight much in the last five years,” Henley comforted. Four years and eleven months. “Excluding the natural lighting BTI installed for our nutrition. Unfortunately, we—” She gestured at Buster, Jen and herself. “—aren’t immune to the vitamin D requirement.”
Sirena didn’t visibly respond.
So much for that attempt. Perhaps the lab-grown girl did have different social normalcies.
“Well, I’m not sure how much more sunlight we’ll get,” Jen inserted ominously.
“Is the climate—?”
Jen cut Henley’s question off. “As much as I’m amused by your constantly curious mind, we’ve got bigger fish to fry than the ones Sirena was programmed to hang with.”
Sirena made a displeased noise.
“What?” Henley asked then winced. Did she really ask questions that often? She sighed. Point proven.
Buster answered. “We have a tail.”
“What?” That one was more of an exclamation Henley defended to herself.
Buster was staring in the wing mirror, while Jen nervously glanced in the rear-view every few seconds.
Henley turned around to squint out the back window. That sunlight really was bright. There were a few cars around them.
“Shift into the right lane,” Buster instructed.
Jen did.
So did a single, big, black SUV, two cars back. BTI? Henley had expected more pomp; perhaps she placed more value on herself and her work than appropriate. Possibly they had several students all working on the same project, and they kept whomever finished first. Was that why she was set to be terminated?
“Cut in front of this truck.”
Again Jen followed Buster’s directions. Their tail vanished behind a massive trailer.
“Well done,” Henley praised, turning back to face the front in her seat.
“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts. My mom’s not going to be a happy camper when she finds Sirena gone.”
Oh, right. Henley was being narcissistic. BTI wasn’t just after her. They had stolen goods and two other escaped students in their car.
Their speed crept up, the trees on the roadside whipping by too fast to identify individual trunks. They swerved around a minivan puttering incredibly slowly.
“Why do we need Sirena separated from your mom?” Henley inquired. The car chase didn’t distract her from the uneasy feeling her companions’ undisclosed intentions gave her. In fact, it empowered it.
“Did you not hear about the tort—” Jen slammed on the breaks, dropping their velocity rapidly. Just as quickly, the engine purred, their car coasting smoothly at a steady but slower rate.
“Nuh. New problems,” Jen breathed, fearfully. “Right up the nose instead of up our ass. A little closer, and we’ll be the human centipede.”
Henley didn’t ask about that reference—probably to Jen’s shock—and focused forward again. She couldn’t help but lurch between the front seats. “Does BTI control them too?” she asked Buster who was alternating his sharp gaze between their rear and the sedan they trailed.
“Not entirely,” he responded, unhelpfully. “Keep pace.” He held a staying hand out at Jen.
“What do you think I’m doing, Einstein?” she chided, tension adding an edge to her banter.
“It’s back,” Sirena said quietly. Henley noticed her seatmate’s teal eyes were like saucers, lips sucked in and pinched tight, and one hand clutched at a necklace. Sirena jerked a thumb over her shoulder.
The black SUV was a lane to their left, creeping up around the van. The sunlight glinting on the darkly tinted windows prevented Henley from viewing their trackers.
“Do you think it’s someone from the post office?”
Nobody answered.
Henley had felt so confident in her slightly-modified plan.
They knew the moment their pursuer also saw the police car because it immediately fell back, remaining at their back left corner, out of sight of the black and white sedan.
“Well, this is great. We’re in a stalemate,” Jen complained. “Now I am going to have to drive us single-handedly across the country.” Jen sounded as if she also wanted to punch Buster.
“And we’ll lead our follower right to our destination,” Henley added unhappily.
“No,” Buster retorted.
“Oh, and you’ve got another brilliant plan?” Jen asked, checking the mirrors again. “I’m not convinced your idea to stop at a post office was all that great. I donno. I kinda liked Henley’s style. What have you got, Henley?”
Henley balked, mind processing all the possible options. “Uhh…” she stalled as she thought.
“No.”
“I’m going to disallow that word from being used in this car or else I’m rear-ending the cops and telling them it was all your idea and you kidnapped the lot of us.”
Buster sighed. Well, he wasn’t the only one irritated. “We are going to run out of gas before that happens.”
Oh. Henley hadn’t even factored that into her considerations. Being out of her depth was belittling, after being an excellent and highly-praised scholar for so long. So had the Bus, admittedly.
“Shrimp,” Sirena exclaimed.
“Barbequed shrimp,” Jen agreed. “We’re toast.”
Henley made a face. “Shrimp on toast?”
“We need to exit the highway,” Buster interrupted the girls’ insane panic, “calmly.”
“But you said not to. That’ll slow us down.” Sirena was audibly worried.
“Not to mention, whoever’s following us will be able to catch up.” Henley doubted the SUV would outrun the old four-door they stole first—it appeared to be electric. Henley had seen a few similar in lab, being worked on.
“It’s a risk,” Buster allowed. “A less dangerous one.” He was all about the outcome, uncaring of the method and its collateral.
“I’d calculate the unknown enemy a more dangerous risk,” Henley argued. “The police have no reason to suspect us. They were here before us and haven’t turned on their lights. It appears they are not alerted to us, if they are part of BTI, and if they’re not, they have no reason to interact with us.”
“Uh, hello? We jacked a car,” Jen pointed out in a higher voice than she’d used thus far, even when they’d been escaping BTI.
“I doubt anyone’s reported it missing yet.” Henley was hoping more than guessing.
“The most dangerous enemy is the one with power,” Buster said with finality. Assuming he’d concluded the argument, he threw out more commands. “Slow down, then shift into the right lane behind this pick-up truck.”
Jen complied.
Everyone kept wary eyes on the sedan. It remained as it was. Was it waiting to drop behind them?
The SUV didn’t take their vacated place behind the police. Did that mean BTI wasn’t working with the police, and they were staying unobtrusive?
Amazingly, the vehicle they now sat behind was even slower than the van. It neatly cut off the SUV, which was remaining slightly behind them, two lanes over. The SUV started to pull ahead.
“Now accelerate in front of this car.”
An exit was coming up fast, the green sign huge in their windshield.
“We won’t fit,” Sirena whispered on a sharp inhale, nearly yanking her necklace off with the grip she had on it.
Henley too was clutching the armrest between them with one hand and the handle on the ceiling with the other.
“Oh yeah? Watch me.” It was a good thing Jen had confidence since she was the one who had to get them another foot clear of their neighbor’s grill in only a few dozen feet of rapidly disappearing cement.
A whoop of sirens startled screams out of the two girls in the back, a cuss out of their driver, and a screech of tires and the horn of the little hatchback they overtook as they zoomed that much faster and slid neatly in front, just missing dinging the barrier of the exit ramp with their headlight.
Jen let out a relieved cheer, and Sirena let out a huge breath she must have been holding.
Henley, however, was staring at the highway. The barrier cut off her line of sight as they dropped onto the slip road. Their little car quieted, slowing. She hadn’t been able to see the SUV. Was it still up there? Had they been fast enough?
“Smoking tires! I want to try drifting next. I should’ve become a smooth criminal ages ago.” Jen gave herself a literal pat on the back. “All right, so you’ve got a few brains up there,” she granted, giving Buster a gentle nudge with her fist to the shoulder. “Not quite mastermind-level yet, but we’re getting there. Is this why Henley calls you the Bus? You a good driver?”
Ace shifted away. “Do not use physical abuse as praise. It rewards improper behavior.”
Jen held up a palm. “Sorry, dude.”
“I’d have to hit him twice as hard to make sure he understands my message,” Henley drawled.
“You do one, I’ll do the other,” Sirena offered generously.
Henley grinned. Their comradery was improving. She felt more like a team.
“He’s not so much ‘good’ at driving,” Henley explained the nickname, “as being unwilling to stop for people.” She recalled a few in her lab dodging him as he raced, ignoring the protests to slow down from professors, on his way back up the stairs after someone had set off the fire alarm with improper wiring. He’d been in such a rush to get back to work.
“Ah, the movie Speed. Gotcha. Well, let’s hope it keeps up.” Jen held up her hand, pointer and middle fingers crossed.
In fact, he’d knocked a paper Henley was reading into a mess of pages on the floor one time when he’d bumped past in the hallway.
Henley frowned at Jen, wondering how much time she’d spent on her work. “You must have been evasive yourself to have never been in his way in the halls.”
“Psh, I was barely allowed to leave the lab, and I’ve only been there a few months.”
Not four years and eleven months. It was hard to remember Jen was younger than Henley; she had confidence. Henley considered if being secluded had stunted her own psychological growth, so to speak, like Sirena’s.
Jen continued, “And remember, I didn’t hang with the other kids; I was mostly quarantined in my Mom’s quarters.”
“So you weren’t trapped inside?” She hadn’t said anything earlier when Henley told Sirena they weren’t allowed outside. Henley felt like an oscillator alternating between feeling part of a united group and feeling dragged-along, unable t
o keep up.
“I mean, inside is relative. Professors’ apartments are on campus.” She ignored Henley’s huff. “So now what, Mr. Evasive?”
It would have been Dr. Evasive in only one month. Henley would have been Dr. Bickford. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option.
Now Henley had seen the authoritative side of academia, she wasn’t sure she had been cut out for that title in any place. She couldn’t stomach consigning her own students to termination.
Was Jen sneaking out with Sirena to avoid termination—either hers or her experiment’s… or both? Henley wanted that answer soon.
First, though, they needed to repair their plans— Her stomach growled. —and perhaps find nourishment, since she hadn’t been so successful. The popcorn idea had ended up going to the birds, literally.
“We need to find somewhere to wait for a while.” Buster was still discretely checking their mirrors.
“What? I thought you said stopping was bad. We’re moving slower than a shake through a straw as it is.”
“We also need food.” Either Jen’s shake comment had Sirena salivating like it did Henley, meaning she did consume food, or she had heard Henley’s stomach. Did she have super-hearing?
“We need to allow our pursuer to advance some distance before we return to the road.”
“You don’t wanna take a shortcut?” Jen was darting raised brows at Buster as she navigated the feeder road.
“No.”
“Wouldn’t that help to get them off our trail though and let us keep going?” It was surprising that Jen was more eager than the Bus to plow on.
“No.”
“What did I say about that word?” Jen held up a pointed finger, turning the wheel a bit towards the curb on the roadside and the trees behind it. “Debbie Downer.”
Buster sighed. He was going to make himself hyperventilate doing that so often. Jen’s questions were valid. “That would only be true if they weren’t tracking us. We need to exchange transport vehicles.”
“Is this why you need me?” Henley queried with a frown, reluctant to add other count of grand theft auto to her name. At this rate, she wasn’t sure if she was better than BTI.
Then again, they killed children, if she could still count herself and her peers as such.