Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Maybe you could slip the tracking device onto the truck,” I said, now working on the ignition with the tool.
While he worked on the truck, I finally managed to get the Acura running. The engine purred but in the quiet of the parking lot, even that sound could be our downfall. I shut my door and waited for Devon to take the seat beside me.
“I never thought I’d become a car thief,” he said with a small laugh.
I peeled the car out of its spot and steered it toward the station’s exit. “FEA taught me a lot of strange stuff.” I glanced down the highway. No black Mercedes limousines, no police cars. I pressed my foot down on the gas pedal and turned onto the road.
Devon peered over his shoulder. “It doesn’t seem like they’ve noticed the car is missing. And nobody is following us.”
“Check the sky,” I said, flooring the accelerator.
We needed to leave the motel area as quickly as possible. In a couple of hours it would be swarming with FEA agents.
“Clear,” Devon said, leaning back against his seat and stretching out his legs. He looked exhausted. We hadn’t gotten more than two hours of sleep and hadn’t even had time to eat our makeshift breakfast. “I miss the bike. It was way cooler than this thing.” He gestured at the mess around us. His stomach let out a growl.
I laughed, but the sound felt wrong. “In my backpack.”
Devon reached behind my seat and a couple of minutes later, he held the chocolates and cereal I’d bought from the vending machine. We divided them between us, but the snacks were stale and everything tasted like dust.
“You’re a pretty good driver,” he remarked. He sounded surprised.
“I guess I’m a natural. I have hardly any practice. When I joined the FEA, I was still too young to have my driver’s license and I’ve barely driven besides in class.” I glanced into the rearview mirror. Still no sign of any cars following us.
Now that we had brought some distance between us and the motel, Devon and I stopped to switch places. He knew the way to his aunt and uncle’s house better than I did. And we really needed to get rid of our current car as quickly as possible. Soon Major—and the police—would be looking for it.
Devon stayed well within the speed limits, for the most part. Though we were in a hurry, we couldn’t risk being pulled over by the police. Devon had his driver’s license but I was worried that the FEA was linked to the police database and would see if someone checked on him. They’d be after us in a blink—if they weren’t already. And then there was the little problem of the stolen car. I scanned the sky once more, looking for helicopters. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we were being hunted.
After driving for almost an hour, Devon pulled onto a narrow forest road. The Acura jolted over the uneven pavement and my stiff legs and back protested painfully. Devon zigzagged to avoid the myriad of potholes filled with muddy water. I could see the tension in his body, the way he held the tightness of his back and stomach. The car groaned every time we encountered a bump. It definitely wasn’t made for crossroad trips. The clouds broke open and heavy raindrops pelted down on us. In that moment a charming house came into view: gray stucco façade, white shutters and a porch with lilac flowers cascading almost to the ground.
When Devon brought us to a stop beside the three cars parked in the driveway, pebbles flew everywhere. The white door flew open and Aunt Celia, dressed in a bright orange dress and a yellow apron, peeked out, frowning. Of course she wouldn’t recognize us as long as we were hidden behind the dirty windshield.
She doesn’t know you at all, I reminded myself. After all, I didn’t look like Devon’s sister, Madison, anymore.
Devon tried to smooth his hair. He’d nervously run his hands through it so often in the last hour that it was all over the place. I could only imagine what a mess I looked like. The ringlets that had fallen out of my ponytail clung to my neck and forehead. The moment Aunt Celia saw Devon, her face lit up. She glanced at me curiously as we walked up the porch before pulling Devon into a hug and kissing his cheek.
“Devon, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, we’re just doing a bit of a road trip. And we thought we’d stop by,” Devon said lightly.
“And who is this young lady?” She smiled at me.
She was paler than I remembered her, and slightly older looking. Her blond hair was up in a messy bun and she looked like someone who hadn’t slept in a while. Just like Devon, she’d recently lost someone she cared deeply about. That wasn’t the kind of thing you forgot quickly.