The Flight of the Silvers (Silvers #1)(112)

David turned to Zack. “Come to think of it, you also create an open temporic field. I imagine you’d be just as much of a risk as—”

“I know.”

“He knows,” said Amanda, at the same time.

Zack closed his menu and twisted the knob back to 1. Life outside the glass returned to normal.

“Let’s just pick what we want and order.”

—

That night, they rented three rooms at a quaint little inn on the outskirts of Jefferson City. Though the Silvers had forsaken fleabag motels in the wake of their new riches, Zack urged sensible restraint. “This isn’t just travel money,” he’d told them. “It’s build-a-life-in-Brooklyn money.”

All the same, Zack readily caved when David asked for his own room. The boy made a prickly bedfellow, and became downright surly when he didn’t get his personal space.

Amanda stepped out of the shower at ten o’clock to find she had the women’s suite to herself. She saw Hannah outside the window, lounging poolside with Theo. She could only guess that Mia was reading in David’s room, her new evening ritual.

Edgy in solitude, she texted Zack on her phone.

<What’s going on with you? You’ve been grim all evening.>

<Can’t draw and type at the same time,> he replied. <Come ask in person.>

Two minutes later, he opened the door to Amanda. With her wet hair and white robe, her appearance was a throwback to his first recollection of her. She was a much more formidable presence than the high-strung redhead who’d slapped him seven weeks ago. Without a proper frame of reference, he couldn’t tell if she was changing into a whole new person or settling back into the person she was. Most of his thoughts were stuck on how good she looked with wet hair.

“I think I know what we need,” she said as she swept past him.

“So you’re skipping over the whole ‘What’s going on with you?’ part.”

“Shut up and listen.”

Zack fought a grin and returned to his sketchbook. He’d been on a cultural preservation kick since buying his new art supplies, dedicating his pencil to faithful re-creations of old-world icons. His current subjects were Calvin and Hobbes.

“We should take the weekend off,” Amanda declared. “Find a nice hotel with a sundeck and just relax. We’re all at wit’s end and we need to unwind. What do you think?”

Zack kept drawing, expressionless. “I think the others will love your idea.”

“What do you think?”

“I think what I think is moot, considering I’ll get outvoted.”

“Zack, you more than anyone else deserve a rest. You’ve done almost all the driving.”

“I’d drive all night if you guys would let me. I just want to get there already.”

“You think our problems will stop the minute we get to Brooklyn?”

On the contrary, Zack was terrified of what was waiting for them there. Ever since acquiring the van, he’d been plagued by nightmares that weren’t even his own. For three nights in a row, Theo had lurched awake from sleep with an anguished cry. Each time he apologized to Zack but never explained the specifics. He insisted he was only having bad dreams, not previews.

Earlier that day, as the two men floated high in the Kansas tea lift, Theo finally spoke of the future.

“I have this bad feeling about Peter. Not like he’s an enemy. More like a doctor with bad news. I have no idea what he’s going to tell us, Zack. I just know we need to hear it. I know it’s going to hurt.”

Zack chose to withhold that tidbit from Amanda. She didn’t need more reasons to fret.

“I don’t think our problems will stop in Brooklyn,” he told her. “But I do think we’ll get answers. And about goddamn time too. I’m sick of having this ‘in over my head’ feeling, like I’m trying to read Lord of the Rings in Farsi. I’m so desperate for information right now that I don’t even care if it’s bad news. I just want to know.”

Amanda crossed her arms. “You’re right. That is a minority opinion.”

“I’m not saying it’s right or wrong. I’m just telling you what’s going on with me.”

“Well, I’m really worried about Hannah. You’ve never seen her breakdowns. I have.”

Zack jerked a limp shrug. “Okay, then sell your idea to the others. I won’t fight it.”

“I was hoping to get more than martyred resignation from you.”

“And I was hoping to be in New York already. I guess we’ll both have to settle.”

Zack continued to sketch in full awareness of her harsh green glare, another throwback to their early days. Amanda wished him good night with all the warmth of a cadaver, then left him to his doodles.

Four hours later, bad dreams once again hit Zack by proxy. Theo shot up in bed with a yell, then stared at his trembling hands.

Zack rolled over to face him. “This isn’t good, man.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not complaining. I’m just worried about you.”

“It’s all right. I’ll manage.”

“Is this one of those recurring dreams where you’re falling?”

“No.”

“Is it a recurring dream where I’m falling?”