The Replaced(82)

I sighed, shooting a furtive look to Tyler, and wondering how much he already knew. About who he was and what had happened to cause all this. I imagined since he was here, running away with me, Griffin had told him pretty much everything by now, and his nod, and the sympathetic look in his eyes, pretty much confirmed my suspicion. “Sorry about your friend.”

I shrugged. “I guess he wasn’t really our friend.”

Above us, a strange sound rippled the air. It wasn’t loud at first, but it was coming at us fast—a sheer, tearing noise that seemed to be shredding the sky. I unbuckled so I could turn around and get a better view, straining to see what it was.

Whatever it was, it was still far off, but getting closer and closer. It sort of looked like a plane, but I couldn’t be sure because it was almost . . . too fast. Plus, it was heading right toward us.

Simon was watching it, too, from his rearview mirror. “Damn,” he cursed. “How the hell did they find us so fast?”

“That’s . . . them?” I asked incredulously, gripping the seat back as I watched its steady approach. “What is that thing?”

“Military drone,” Simon stated matter-of-factly.

“Drone? What’s it doing?” I asked.

“Tracking us!” Simon shouted from the driver’s seat. “And if it can get within range, they won’t let us escape. Not alive, anyway.”

But Tyler shook his head as he leaned forward. He looked from me to Simon. “I don’t think so. Griffin said they need us.”

“Something must’ve changed,” Simon said. “Or someone didn’t get the memo you two are worth more alive than dead.”

Pins and needles prickled my skin as I thought about what Agent Truman had told me back at Blackwater, about Alex Walker . . . about how quickly he’d healed. “Not anymore they don’t. They have Alex Walker,” I breathed. “They have another Replaced.” We were expendable, Tyler and me.

Tyler turned to Simon. “Can we lose this thing?”

“Hang on tight!” And with that, Simon forced the steering wheel hard to the left, veering us off the highway and onto the rocky terrain of the desert. We bounced awkwardly, and I dropped back onto my seat. I felt Tyler’s hand reach out to my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze, and if I hadn’t been hanging on to the sides of my seat for dear life, I probably would’ve reached back to return the favor. As it was, all I could think was, Please don’t throw up . . . please don’t throw up . . . please, dear God, do . . . not . . . throw . . . up . . .

Each time the Jeep hit a rock, it felt like my brain was being rattled against my skull as my head smacked against the headrest and my heart felt like it might rip a hole through my chest, and the entire time I wondered, Why are they doing this to us? And how the holy hell are we going to outrun a military aircraft?

“What if we can’t lose them?” I called out to Simon, my voice hoarse as I glanced over my shoulder and saw how much closer the drone was getting.

My throat nearly clamped shut as I saw a grim look darken his face. And then I looked at Tyler, who I’d already sentenced to death once when I’d cut myself in his presence. Could I really let him die again just when I’d gotten him back? Was it fair that these two suffer just because I had to go and be some sort of freak that Agent Truman had to get his hands on?

I released the buckle on my seat belt again and glanced down at the dirt and rocks that blurred past. I’d jumped out of a moving vehicle once before, on Chuckanut Drive the night my dad and I had fought after my championship game. It hadn’t worked out so well for me then. I’d lost five years of my life because of that move.

I certainly wasn’t about to jump again.

Instead, I shot to my knees as I faced the approaching drone.

I stopped trying to stuff that I-might-puke feeling down, and embraced it, along with the shaky, sweaty dizziness that threatened to engulf me. Everything that came with the wave of sheer dread consuming me. I tapped into it. I used it.

I wasn’t even sure this would work, but it wasn’t like we had a lot of options at this point. That aircraft up there was closing in on us. We were running out of time. When I narrowed my eyes and felt the zip of tension burst along my spine, stars erupted in my periphery.

“Down!” Simon yelled, reaching over and yanking at me.

I’d already seen why, though. Something was coming straight at us . . . besides that drone thing, I mean. I had to assume it was some sort of missile, which meant we must be within range, as Simon had pointed out.

But Simon hadn’t seen what I had right before he’d grabbed for me. The part where that drone had wobbled, its course slightly altered. And even though I couldn’t say for sure that I’d been the one responsible, I couldn’t say I hadn’t been either.

Regardless of the reason, that slight alteration must have been enough, and the missile had been off course also. Just enough.

It was close, though.

There was a bright flash when the missile struck the rocky ground, followed immediately by a shock-wave explosion. Black smoke billowed around orange flames that expanded in every direction. It was so close I could taste bits of sand, dirt, and fuel. It took several seconds for me to blink away fragments of debris from my lashes, but when I did, I flipped back around and saw that the aircraft had regained its trajectory.