Page 12 of UNAwere

He grunts.

‘Well, I don’t,’ I continue. ‘Silence means my sister is upset. It means there’s no one else there to help her but me.’ I shiver, recognising the words coming from my mouth are heavy. I quickly clear my throat. ‘Um, I can tell really great jokes to make the time go by? If you wanted? Or we can play Eye Spy?’

‘Fucking roadworks…’ he mutters, turning off the cruise control and slowing down at the sign.

‘You owe me a dollar,’ I say.

Briggs huffs. ‘There won’t be any jokes in my car.’

‘Too late, I told one yesterday,’ I say. And then I glance around us. ‘This can’t be your car; you flew down here. This is just a rental.’

‘I’m driving it,’ he says, keeping his eyes forward as we crawl past the roadworks, ‘so it’s my car.’

‘Did you get to choose it?’ I ask. ‘That would make sense if you did…’

‘Why would it make sense?’ His nostrils flare slightly again, and I think he’s angry he felt the need to ask, again.

‘Because it’s like you. All dark. Big. Leather interior.’ I smile. ‘Okay, the last one is a joke. I obviously don’t know if you have a leather interior.’

‘No jokes in my car,’ he mutters, but there’s no anger to his voice, and he sounds distracted.

I frown at him. His eyes are scanning the roadworkers. And then it clicks.

‘You don’t think it’s a trap, do you?’ I ask.

‘You can’t be too sure about these things, Miss Palmer.’

‘Sybbie,’ I correct.

He ignores me, keeping his eyes on every move the workers make outside. He’s stiff as a board, ready to spring.

When we reach the sign that tells us the roadworks are over, he finally relaxes and speeds up again.

‘Where are you from?’ I ask, once he’s set the cruise control again.

‘Primrose territory.’

‘Obviously. But where? And what’s it like? Are there trees?’

He gives me an odd look. ‘Of course there are trees.’

‘Well, I don’t know. I haven’t left Luminaire territory before.’

‘It’s mountainous. Cold.’

I hum, liking the sound of it. ‘I haven’t seen mountains in real life.’

My territory is all flat planes and forests and rivers. Places where you can hide and lose track of time, amongst soft moss and buzzing dragonflies.

Briggs doesn’t say anything, but when I peek at him, he’s casting me another sidelong glance. When he meets my eye, he quickly blinks and looks away.

‘I’m hungry,’ I murmur.

‘We’ll stop for lunch in an hour. There’s a diner at a rest stop on the way.’

I frown. ‘Do you have this trip all planned out?’

‘Mostly.’