Chapter Forty-Eight: Stowaways

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Nestled in the open back of the Jeep, covered by a thick army blanket they'd found in a metal crate and listening to the gentle rumble of the pristine, top-of-the-line vehicle, Eliza and Tori crouched in tense silence as Joe drove them into Fitzgerald Base. Their waistbands were full of weapons, hearts hammering in tandem, both daunted for their own reasons by the impossible task ahead. Not quite able to ignore Tori's hitched breathing and shaking hands, Eliza tried not to wonder if they were too late. Would Amile be ready for them, suspect a counterattack after leaving them alive? Whatever her agenda, that woman would be rushing things along just in case the three teenagers decided to make a ruckus.

Which was, of course, exactly what they planned to do.

Eliza felt the Jeep drop off the main highway, swinging onto the gravel side-road that would lead them into the base. She wondered how Joe was doing. He'd insisted that he was sane enough to drive, but Eliza had seen the way his fingers twitched, his eyes shifted, how he winced at every noise and flash of light. She knew her friend well enough to see that he was walking that razor-blade edge of panic, struggling to hold onto rationality as his mind was slowly crushed beneath the weight of the Superman Virus.

Would he be able to hold it together long enough for them to get inside?

Eliza swallowed, wrapping her arms around her knees.

It had been more than twelve hours since Amile took the Vagabonds. Almost a whole day. How much damage could that horrible woman have already done?

"He's doing surprisingly well," Tori said, her whisper breaking their silence like a gunshot. Eliza jerked and Tori flinched, both of them listening to the gentle crunch of gravel beneath the wheels as the Jeep decelerated.

"What?"

"Joe. He's doing well. You know, for a nerd."

Eliza slanted her eyes at the other girl, unnerved by how much Tori was shaking, how her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.

"And what about you?"

Tori sniffed. "I'm fine."

"I know what it feels like to worry about a sibling. You don't have to be fine."

"Yes I do," Tori said. Eliza shrugged, forced herself to take a deep, calming breath as she clenched and unclenched her fists. Her thoughts turned, as they so often did, to Katie. Was she watching? Guarding the baby sister still trapped in the real world without her?

Eliza liked to think so.

They both froze at the sound of voices, deep and male. The slap of a palm on the Jeep's hood.

They'd reached the front gate. Their first hurdle.

Come on, Joe. Come on.

Would the soldiers immediately recognize an imposter? Would they know Martin Bent personally, look at the ID tag and realize that they were dealing with a fraud?

Eliza pursed her lips. Tori leaned into her shoulder.

Finally, impossibly, Eliza heard the sound of a chain-link gate rattling over gravel.

The Jeep started moving again.

They both took a shaky breath, exchanging a wide-eyed look of partial relief as they moved blindly into the hornet's nest.

"What happened to your sister?" Tori's voice, though quiet, made them both wince. "You never told me."

Eliza swallowed a chuckle. What a weird way to ease tension. But maybe her pain threw such an enormous shadow that it was unavoidable even in this dire of a situation.

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