The Flight of the Silvers (Silvers #1)(159)

“She’s shifted, you idiot. She can’t understand you. Now do as she says. This is your last warning.”

Ross and Carter looked around, unable to see the young Australian who just spoke in their ears. David’s command was a ghosted echo of words he’d uttered fifty-five minutes ago. He’d created some prefabricated messages of his own.

Stymied, the agents grudgingly kneeled on the pavement, their palms on their scalps.

“Now if you value your lives,” said David, “you won’t move a muscle.”

He emerged from behind the rocky embankment and seized their guns and radios. Ross clenched his jaw as he watched his pistol fall into a knapsack.

“I don’t care how young you are, boy. I’ll tear you open for this.”

“Yes, we’re all impressed by your manliness. Put your hands behind your back. Hurry.”

Melissa’s tinny voice crackled through the fabric of David’s bag. “Carter, what’s going on? Report.”

David motioned to Mia, who’d been watching from behind the rocks. The moment she reached him on the asphalt, he passed her two pairs of handcuffs.

“I need to help Zack. Will you be all right taking over?”

She glanced at the men, then gave David a shaky nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Don’t worry. Hannah will keep you covered.”

He stood behind the two agents and hissed a whisper into their ears. “Stay still and do exactly what the girl says. You touch one hair on her head, I’ll kill you with your own guns.”

Mia could only watch in slack-jawed stupor as David dashed toward the truck. Between the shock and concern over his murderous threat was a savage thrill that would haunt her for the rest of her life. She existed in a dreamlike state, only half-present. Only half-scared.

She studied the handcuffs in her grip, then squinted at the Deps. Her voice fell two octaves.

“All right. You heard the man. Hold still. Don’t f*ck with me.”

—

Melissa scanned the road through the three-inch crack in the trailer gate. She raised it four more feet and climbed down to the dirt. Howard followed her out.

“Keep them quiet,” she told Owen. “Watch Amanda closely.”

The agent croaked a querulous mutter, then closed the gate. Melissa raised her gun and motioned Howard around the other side of the truck. She advanced up the driver’s side, cursing herself for letting Theo spook her about the Pelletiers.

Soon she spied Carter and Ross up the road, both handcuffed and seething as Hannah and Mia led them behind the rocks. A soft sigh of relief escaped Melissa’s lips. The only thing better than a foolish enemy was a nonviolent one. This situation could be turned. If Melissa was lucky, she might even reach Washington with a complete set of fugitives.

She heard soft footsteps behind her, then spun around with her pistol. Zack stood at the rear of the truck, his palms raised high.

“Whoa. Easy. I’m unarmed.”

“No you’re not.”

“Well, I’m as unarmed as I can get. In any case, you don’t want to shoot.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But if I see one flash of temporis—”

“It already happened,” Zack informed her. “Look at your gun.”

Melissa studied her weapon. While she was staring up the road, the barrel had aged several decades. She studied the muzzle, now thoroughly clogged with oxidation.

“Goodness. That’s quite a trick, Zack.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

“You realize you could have rifted my hand.”

“Exactly why I’ve been practicing.”

“I appreciate the extra care, but this was foolish. You won’t succeed here.”

“We just want our friends back. We’re hoping to do it without hurting anyone.”

Melissa spun at the sound of Howard’s brief yelp at the other side of the truck.

“Seriously hurting anyone,” Zack qualified.

“What just happened?”

“A flash of light in the eyes. He’ll be fine.”

With a futile sigh, she holstered her gun. “Zack, listen to me. My name’s—”

“Melissa Masaad. Yes. I’m aware.”

Melissa blinked in bafflement. She could never tell which of the fugitives knew her name already.

“You can’t keep running,” she insisted. “You’re smart enough to see that. Sooner or later, your luck will run out and someone you care about will die.”

“As opposed to the long and fruitful life we’ll enjoy in your Area 51.”

“I don’t know what that is. If you’re talking about scientific dissection, that’s not the plan for you. That’s not what we want. You have to believe me.”

“I don’t.”

David weaved around the front of the tug with a captured Howard in tow. The handcuffed agent squawked in pain as David pushed him to his knees. Melissa held his shoulder.

“Howard! Are you all right?”

“No! That son of a bitch blinded me!”

“Quit whining,” said David. “It’s temporary.”

Melissa watched him with muted concern. She’d observed the boy through countless ghosts and transcripts. There was always something about him that bothered her, a hint of polished reasoning well beyond his age. Now as Zack flinched with moral unease, David stood eerily calm. He aimed Howard’s pistol at Melissa’s head.