Page 120 of Savage Surrender

Megan yanks the zipper closed on a bag. “Please tell me we don’t need to walk by the water.”

“No, we can go under the house and through the woods.”

I get us out of the house, down the screened side, and beneath the pilings. Ezra takes point when we reach the trees.

At the park, the van waits beneath the trees. We load without stopping. Megan takes the front with her laptop, Ezra starts the engine, and the rest of us fit ourselves into the tight rear around dark monitors, equipment, and one another.

Ezra pulls out of the lot and heads in the direction of the ferry.

“What are you looking at?” I ask Weller, who has been staring at a specific vehicle for a few minutes.

“That white truck. The one with the ladder.”

Ezra’s eyes lift to his mirror. “It was at the park.”

“The whole time?”

“It was there when we pulled in,” he says. “I remember the rusty ladder.”

I find the truck in the thin slice of mirror between them. It sits far enough back to belong to anybody.

Weller’s eyes meet Ezra’s in the mirror. Ezra eases off the gas, and the white truck slows.

Okay. Okay. Someone found us. The ferry sign points right. Ezra signals left.

I don’t remind him where the ferry is.

He turns toward the marina village. We lose the truck, come back around, but the truck turns after us.

Ezra takes the next left without slowing. We pass the bakery, its striped awning snapping in the wind, swing behind the grocery store, and come out on another narrow road.

“Delivery lane,” Weller says.

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

Ezra doesn’t look at him. Weller checks the narrow road beside the shops while Ezra watches the truck.

Megan slides her laptop into its case and pulls the strap over her head.

Weller looks past me. “Freddie, the car you and Owen left in the garage.”

Freddie’s knee stops bouncing against mine. “What about it?”

“Can you get to it without going through the ferry lot?”

Freddie looks at Owen before he looks at me. “Yeah.”

The plan finishes assembling. Keep the van visible. Slip three of us out. Find a boat, get to the car. Clean. Fast. The kind of reroute Ezra trained me to follow without arguing.

Owen’s arm tightens around me. Both my hands close over it, and my eyes find Weller, then Tristan, who still has one hand braced above my head.

Weller turns to face me. “Freddie is going to take you and Megan through the marina when Ezra slows down.”

I wait for the rest.

“And then?”

“He gets you to the car.”