Not Your Villain (Sidekick Squad #2)(63)

Before Bells can ponder what that means, Claudia grabs his elbow and pulls him out of the cell with more strength than needed.

“Here. Take this, too.” She shrugs off her fluffy coat and hands it to Bells. “It’s about a thirty-minute walk to Elk Ridge. You can catch the hovertrain there.” She hesitates as Bells strides past her. “Don’t tell anyone I helped you. Especially Jess.”

It is, indeed, snowing as Bells leaves the warehouse. He tugs the coat tight around him, buttons it up to the collar, and pulls the hood over his head. He must look ridiculous, but he doesn’t care. It’s warm.

He runs. It’s hard going. The snow, packed hard and covered in ice, causes him to slip a few times. His shoes are no match for the bitter cold, and his socks are wet. Despite his cold feet, he continues. If only Jess were here to tell him where to go. Claudia said it was thirty minutes from the warehouse to a place called Elk Ridge. But thirty minutes in which direction?

Bells comes upon an abandoned town. At the sight of the ruined buildings covered in snow, he shivers. Unmaintained territory. But in what region? He hopes that the credit chip actually does have enough money to get him back to Vegas.

He wanders through the town, wondering about the people who lived here long ago. He passes hardware stores, a store selling clothing and furniture. He has a brief laugh at twenty-first century fashion. Skinny jeans, that’s hilarious. How did people move?

Near a rusted stoplight, a vestige from an era when everyone drove their own cars and traffic needed to be regulated, he sees:

SALT LAKE CITY 62 MILES

ELK RIDGE 1 MILE

Bells takes a deep breath and turns in the direction of the arrow. He’s so cold, but he keeps going, has to keep going. In the distance, the lights of Elk Ridge beckon him. He can make it. He coughs, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and shuffles forward.

He is nearly frozen when he walks into the hoverstation. It’s empty save for the glowing kiosk in the corner with TICKETS flickering across the dash and an automat. There isn’t even a MonRobot in sight.

At the kiosk, Bells flicks through the menu, and his jaw drops. It costs how much to get to Vegas? No wonder few people ever travel. He scans the credit chip and breathes a sigh of relief when there’s just enough for a ticket. He purchases the ticket and selects the option to send the details to a disposable chip instead of his personal DED. He doesn’t want anyone to know he was here.

He spends the rest of the credit chip on hot chocolate and a protein bar at the automat. The warmth of the hot chocolate goes right to his bones, but the protein bar is a bit more difficult to get down. He misses his dad’s cooking. He misses his parents. He just wants to go home.

When the train finally arrives, Bells finds a seat in an empty compartment. Out the window, snow flurries illuminated by the lights from the station cascade against the night sky. He takes off the wet shoes and socks, tucks his feet under his thighs, and falls into a restless sleep.

Vegas Central Station is a cacophony. Bells rubs at his eyes, struggling to adjust to the rush of the crowds and the chaos of colors. Everyone is bustling about their morning business: going to work, traveling. He gets a lot of looks at his disheveled appearance and he tries to hurry to the buses. His feet squish uncomfortably in his wet shoes.

“Buses now leaving for Andover and Crystal Springs!”

Bells runs. “Hey, hey, wait up!” He tries to dart around people and trips over his feet. Ugh, too late. The bus is already leaving.

He slows to a jog and huffs as he approaches the ticket dispenser. Another bus is leaving in an hour; that’s not too bad. Bells swipes his DED and then groans. It’s dead.

Bells digs in his pocket, produces the datachip Claudia gave him, and pokes at the screen.

“Insufficient funds. Swipe Data Exchange Device or insert additional—”

Bells curses, kicking the machine. What is he supposed to do now?

He paces back and forth, and then considers sneaking onto the bus. He’s coming up with a plan: maybe shift into—

“BELLS!”

“What— ” Bells is tackled in a hug. “—Emma?” He hugs her back, too shocked to process what’s happening. “What are you guys doing here?”

Jess flings her arms around him, and Abby joins in the group hug.

“Good to see you, Bells,” Brendan says, nodding. He’s wearing an all-black tactical outfit, complete with a matching hat. He pats Bells awkwardly on the shoulder. “At fourteen hundred hours yesterday, you did not return from your objective, and the Sidekick Squad immediately mobilized to—” He coughs. “This is a rescue.”

“Where were you? What happened?” Emma demands.

“Are you hurt?”

“Was it the League? Orion?”

“We were so worried, Bells!”

He blinks at the rapid-fire questions and lets them lead him to the parking lot. “How did you even…” He stops, staring at the car.

Emma’s car has been fitted with new tires and its own solar panels, and the inside is stuffed to the brim with luggage and tech and… food?

Jess smirks. “I mean, when you didn’t come back, we thought the worst had happened. We had to go after you.”

“But you had no way of knowing where I was or who had—”

Jess shrugs.

“Of course we came after you,” Emma says.