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As I stand staring down at Aydan in disbelief, the rest of the crew piles into the van.
“What do you mean you lost communication?” I yell in his face.
He stares up at me, impassive, and makes no attempt to answer my question. I may as well be a gnat circling in front of him.
James points at the back seat. “Take your place, Marci.”
No. I won’t lose this face-off. Aydan needs to tell me where Xave is. Right now or I swear ...
“Take a seat, Marci,” James forcefully repeats.
I’m the only one still standing. Everyone else is sitting and Oso is already cranking the engine.
“We have to find Xave,” I say.
Blare snaps on her seatbelt. “No, we have to get outta here.”
I whirl, ready to explode all over the place.
James puts a hand on my arm but looks pointedly at Aydan. “Where’s Xave?”
Aydan huffs and swivels his stool toward the computers, turning his back on James.
“I told her I lost communication. I don’t know what else she wants to hear,” Aydan responds.
“What about Clark?” James asks next.
“He went to try to find him.” Aydan says this as if we’re discussing a missing mutt.
“They should be okay, Marci,” James reasons.
We’re driving in reverse, backing out of the woods on the bumpy dirt road. I sway with the van through a few potholes, then decide it’s best to take a seat. In his mad dash, Oso drives over underbrush and debris, rattling our teeth and bones.
“James, we can’t leave them,” I plead.
“They can take care of themselves.”
When Oso hits the paved road, he takes a sharp turn and shifts gears. The sound of squealing tires and the raging engine echoes through the woods. We tear down the dark service road. Trees fly by to our left and a corroded metal railing on the other side is the only thing between the van and a sheer drop. Oso keeps his eyes straight ahead, while, in the passenger seat, Blare peers through the large side mirror, making sure no one’s behind us.
After a minute, my heart slows down a bit, but not enough. I can’t stop thinking about Xave. If he’s hurt, I don’t know what I’m going to do. And what if he’s ...
Panic strikes me and I can’t even finish the thought. “Aydan, has Clark found Xave?”
“We’re out of range.”
There’s so much contempt in his voice it raises my hackles. I’m an angry wolf. “What the hell is your problem?” I demand, feeling ready for a fight. “I’m getting sick of your bitchy, snooty ass.”
“Why don’t you just shut up. We’re trying to escape here. In case you haven’t noticed,” he says in a calm, condescending tone.
“You know what? You’re not worth my time, asshole,” I say, flipping open my cell phone and dialing Xave’s number. It goes straight to voicemail.
Blare’s cynical laughter fills the cabin.
She’s another one not worth bothering with. I ignore her and try to remember if I ever programmed Clark’s number into my phone. I search for it, find it and dial. I get a message indicating the line is no longer in service. It must be an old number because I don’t remember storing it.
I stuff the phone back into my cargo pants. Blare’s still amused about something, letting out dry, jaded snorts. She probably wants someone to ask her to let us in on the joke, but everyone’s attention is on the road. We’re not far from the clinic and we’re not out of the woods yet.
Oso takes a sharp turn and the side of the van scrapes a metal railing on the right.
“Watch it. I don’t want to fly off the mountain,” Blare says.
I look away from the chasm, feeling a surge of vertigo. Thumb jammed between my lips as I bite my nail, I tap a foot nervously. Images of Xave’s bruised face dance in front of me. The knot in my throat feels like it’s about to escape in the form of a desperate cry.
“Maybe they won’t follow us,” Oso says.
Blare points through the windshield. “You spoke too soon.”
A set of headlights appears around the next bend. The vehicle is traveling as fast as we are. This service road is narrow. There’s not enough room for two cars to get through. I reach for the seatbelt and buckle it. My forehead tingles. I have a bad feeling about this.
“Don’t stop,” James says.
Oso peers back through the rear-view mirror, his mellow eyes questioning, full of doubt.
“We won’t stand a chance if we fight.” James’s tone is self-assured and erases all doubt about our fate if Oso doesn’t heed the advice.
“Yes, sir,” Oso responds as he steps on the gas.
We must be going close to ninety in a thirty-mile-an-hour area. The car approaching appears to be going just as fast. If nothing changes, we have a sure date with a head-on collision.
I clench my fists as my entire body tenses. We’re going so fast that after only a few quick blinks the other vehicle’s headlights are upon us, shining brightly into our dark space, making everyone look like pale, ghostly figures.
Desperate, I imagine the other driver turning the wheel sharply and smashing into a tree. Nothing happens. This would be a great time for my telekinesis to kick in, but it fails me. Maybe I need to be able to touch or see what I want to move, but all I see are stabbing beams of light.
Oso keeps his hands firm on the wheel, guiding the van right through the middle of the road. The driver of the incoming vehicle does the same. This is a battle of wills. The first one to veer off course is a rotten egg.
We’re dead.
Dead!
As I feel my life in the balance, teetering between possibility and finality, something inside me cracks. I might be six-feet-under tomorrow, and what do I have to show for myself? A messed-up relationship with Mom, a twin brother I don’t really know, and a friend I’ve pushed away because I feel I’ve nothing to offer. If I make it out of this alive, I’ll shoot for the stars and fix all three. I will.
Sliding shaky hands under my knees, I grip the seat and hold on to the idea of fixing things with Xave—Xave who at this moment is with his brother unharmed and headed home. When I see him, I’ll tell him how I feel ... I’ll swear to him that I’ll never push him away ever again ... I’ll ...
“Hold on tight,” Oso screams between clenched teeth as the incoming headlights swallow us whole. My head droops and my lids close. I let go of the seat and relax with a big, slow exhale that leaves my lungs empty. I gaze up and find James peering at me. Something passes between us and an instant later Oso jerks the wheel and our van swerves violently out of the way.
Oso lost. His will is merely human.
Except he was late. The tail-end of our van doesn’t clear the road in time. The other vehicle clips us. The change in direction is brutal. My body wants to split in half. The crunch of metal is deafening, like a million soda cans crushing inside my head, like the world breaking into fragments.
We tumble and tumble and tumble. My arms are blades on a windmill, my spine the whip in the hands of a ringmaster. But the lion isn’t tamed, it keeps roaring, crunching the van between its jaws.
No one screams, no one calls for mercy. We may as well be in hell.
Something sharp and heavy slams into my head. Warmth trickles down my cheek, my chest, my arms. Every drop down the drain, joining the muck I’ve made out of what should have been a good life.