The Oracle Year(89)

Will closed his eyes.

“Thank you, Mom,” he said. “But I have to go now. I love you, and I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

His mother was crying.

“I love you, too, Will. Please be safe.”

Will screwed his eyes even more tightly shut. He ended the call. His phone immediately started to ring again. Hamza’s phone lit up, and a second later, Miko’s.

Hamza stood up quickly, pulling his phone from his pocket and holding out his hand.

“Phones, quick. They can track us through them even if we turn them off.”

Hamza took all three phones and disappeared into the bathroom. A small sound a moment later—a splash.

“God,” Will said. He felt an arm around his shoulders. He opened his eyes. It was Leigh.

“I’m sorry, Will,” she said.

“It’s okay,” he said, pulling himself together. “It’s time to go.”

Hamza emerged from the bathroom, empty-handed. He looked at the monitor on Will’s desk. He hesitated, then stepped quickly over to it and started typing.

“Leave it!” Will shouted.

“Will, I have to finish this. If I don’t do it right, information can still be pulled off it. They’ll figure out how to find us, find the cabin, the Republic. The money.”

“Hamza!” Will cried in frustration. “They’re probably downstairs right now. We’ve got to go! You guys can come on the plane with me—we’ll separate once we’re away.”

“Listen, you take Miko and go,” Hamza said. “I’ll be right behind you. It’s a charter. It’s not like we’ll miss the plane. But this has to be done, or there’s no point in going at all.”

“I’ll wait with Hamza,” Miko said immediately.

“Don’t be silly, Meeks, just go,” Hamza said, frantically trying to finish wiping Will’s computer clean.

“I’ll stay,” she said in a quiet but very firm voice.

“Dammit,” Will said. “Let me do it, at least!”

Hamza spared Will a half-second glance.

“You’re terrible with computers. It’d take you fifteen minutes. It’ll take me three. There’s no question. I’m not the Oracle. You are. Go, Will.”

Will hesitated for another moment.

“All right. Get out as quickly as you can.” He looked at Leigh. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go. I’ve got a car waiting downstairs. I’ll drop you on the way.”

Will picked up his duffel that held his clothes and ran toward the door. He grabbed a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses from the small table to the left of the door and put them on. Poor excuse for a disguise, but it was all he had.

He looked back at Hamza, Miko standing next to him with her arms crossed across her chest. Hamza was intent on the screen, his hands moving quickly. Miko’s face was heartbreaking—beautiful and pale.

“Hurry,” Will said.

“Sure, man,” Hamza said, not looking up. “Five minutes behind you, tops. Get going.”

Leigh was already in the hall. She’d picked up Will’s shoulder bag and stood at the top of the stairs. She looked scared, but exhilarated.

“Every time I see you is chaos,” she said.

“Try living it,” Will said. He took his duffel and followed Leigh down the six flights of stairs.

Two Lincoln Town Cars sat idling at the curb just outside his building. Will ran to the closer one and knocked on the driver’s window. “Trunk!” he said.

The driver, a dark-skinned man with the look of central Africa, nodded amiably. Will ran to the back of the car and threw in his bag. Leigh pulled open the passenger door and tossed the shoulder bag into the backseat. She looked up the street. Her whole body tensed.

“Will,” she said. “Look.”

Will looked. Advancing in their direction along the sidewalk, still a block and a half away, was a group of about twenty people, men and women of different ages and races, unified only by a similar look of purpose. The one in the lead, a tough-looking man with graying hair and a long coat, held his phone in his hand, and kept looking from it to the address of each building they passed.

“Get in the car, Leigh,” Will said, slamming the trunk closed. “We have to go.”

She got into the Town Car and scooted across the seat to the far side. Will piled into the car after her, hoping that the driver hadn’t been listening to the news while he was waiting.

“Macallan Airfield?” the driver asked, consulting a clipboard on the seat next to him.

“That’s right, but we’ll make a stop on the way. Just drive, okay? Just get us rolling.”

“Of course, sir,” the driver said. The car pulled away and drove to the corner, where it stopped for a red light.

Will and Leigh rotated in their seats to look back at the entrance to Will’s building. The group had reached it and stood in a loose cluster around the door, in the midst of a heated discussion. Will imagined they were trying to decide whether to buzz up or just smash through the doors.

And then Hamza’s head appeared from the alley next to the building, peering out cautiously at the people waiting on Will’s stoop. He’d left the building through the side door from the basement laundry room. Brilliant.