18

Ackerman watched the lifted jeep rumble toward him over the hard-pack of the desert floor, trampling over scrub brush like a metal elephant. The driver had turned off the headlights, apparently to approach without being seen. Ackerman—accounting for the roar of the big engine, the crushing of desert foliage, and the telltale cloud of dust—surmised the attempt at stealth to be an exercise in futility. Still, he knew that his brother was merely trying to buy them every spare second using the variables he could control.

Special Agent Marcus Williams—Ackerman’s baby brother—pulled the Jeep to a stop and said, “Looks like you could use a ride.”

“I have the situation under control.”

Marcus shrugged. “Says the guy bleeding all over himself.”

“A mere flesh wound.”

“You sure about that? Looks like a lot of blood. To be clear, I’m not worried about you. But this Jeep is a rental, and so I really need you to try not to let your ‘flesh wound’ stain the seats.”

Now it was Ackerman’s turn to shrug. “If it’s an issue, I can find my way on foot. Do you perhaps have a water bottle or—”

“Get in the damn jeep, Frank,” Marcus said, his head swiveling around to watch for the pursuing vehicles of the Tribal Police. The reaction caused a smile to spread across Ackerman’s face. His brother was perhaps the toughest man he had ever met—besides himself, obviously—but his superiority was always proven in moments like this. No matter how tough Marcus pretended to be, his brother was still afraid to die, while he was afraid of nothing.

Climbing up inside the open cab of the Jeep, Ackerman said, “If you insist on hurrying off.”

Throwing the big jeep into gear and cutting a path up the rise, toward the rock wall of the mesa and away from their pursuers, Marcus said, “It looks like your plan didn’t work out like you had hoped.”

“On the contrary, dear brother, the reconnaissance phase of this operation was a resounding success.”

“Reconnaissance phase? I thought Canyon was supposed to take you to wherever he’s keeping Maggie. I thought this ‘operation’ only had one phase.”

“What is it you like to say?… Improvise, adapt, and overcome.”

“Maggie could be running out of time. If she’s still…” Marcus’s words trailed off as tears welled in his eyes.

Ackerman said, “I’m more aware than most of the true enemy of all mankind. The name of the unconquerable foe of humanity.”

Swiping at his cheeks, Marcus shifted into third gear and asked, “Death?”

Cocking an eyebrow, Ackerman replied, “Death is but a doorway for those who believe. I was referring to a power only transcended by God himself: Time. Time is the real Taker. An adversary every living soul must battle and a force by which we will all be defeated.”

Marcus said, “Focus for me, Frank. What did you learn in there?”

“I discovered quite a bit. For example, Mr. Canyon was almost as worried about his sheep as he was his son.”

Marcus said nothing, his brow furrowed in concentration. Ackerman loved that his brother didn’t ask needless questions of him like the normals always did. His brother merely understood the possible scenarios his information implied and drove off into the night. It all brought a small smile to Ackerman’s lips. It was funny how he had lived most of his life without his brother, but now, he couldn’t imagine any kind of life without him.