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Jack froze with his hand on the key. “That’s what you want me to do?”
“Jack, if Sam blinks out, Drake will turn on me, and Caine won’t be able to stop him. Drake is stronger than before. I need Sam alive. I need someone for Drake to hate. I need balance. Tell Sam about the temptation. Warn him that he’ll be tempted to surrender to the big jump, but maybe, maybe, if he says no…” She sighed. It was not a hopeful sound. “Now: go.”
She spun on her heel and marched back to the school.
Jack followed her with his eyes till she reached the door. Now was her chance to escape, too. She could get away from Caine and Drake and all they represented. But she was staying.
Was it possible that Diana really did love Caine?
He drew a deep, steadying breath and turned the key. The engine roared. He’d given it too much gas. Too much noise.
“Shh, shh,” he said.
He moved the gear to “D,” for drive.
He pushed the gas pedal down. Nothing happened. He almost panicked. Then he remembered: the emergency brake. He released the brake pull and tried the gas pedal again. The SUV crunched across the gravel at a creeping pace.
“Hey. Where are you going?”
Howard. What was he doing out here in the middle of the night?
Of course: still looking for his bully friend Orc. Always looking out for Orc.
Howard’s expression went quickly from puzzled to questioning to alarmed.
“Hey, man, stop. Stop.”
Jack drove past him.
In the rearview mirror he saw Howard racing back into the school.
He should drive faster. But driving was terrifying for Computer Jack. Too many decisions to make, too much attention demanded, too dangerous, too deadly.
He came to a stop at the iron gate. It was closed. He jumped out and quickly swung the gate open.
He stood still for a moment and listened. The sounds of the woods. Condensation dripping from leaves and tiny animals rustling and a faint breeze that barely pushed the leaves. Then the sound of a car’s engine.
Back to the SUV. Into gear and a lurch forward through the gate.
Leave it open and go. It’s not like the gate would slow anyone down. But it had slowed him down. They were already after him. Panda would be driving, no doubt, he was the most experienced driver, much more experienced than Jack.
Panda. With Drake beside him. Drake and that monstrous arm of his.
Jack felt the fear rising within him. He squeezed the steering wheel. Too tight. The top of it broke off in his hands.
He threw the six-inch arc of plastic away and whinnied in fear. He forced himself to hold the wheel more carefully, control the panic, focus on the driving. Focus on the road as it wound down the mountain, from dense woods to more open terrain and round the spur.
Lights in the rearview mirror.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
They would kill him. Drake would use that whip hand on him.
“Think, Jack,” he screamed with sudden, shocking vehemence. “Think.”
This was not a programming issue. It wasn’t technological. It was more primitive. It was force and force, violence and violence, hate and fear.
Or was it?
