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“They rebootedit.”
“Without any guys in it. I didn’t think anybody male watched thereboot.”
“I’m not your typicalmale.”
“Because of your dwarfblood?”
“Not exactly.” Dimitri glanced in the side mirror as we rounded a bend and almost knocked over a garbagecan.
“Well, you’re helping me, so you can be as typical or atypical as you want. I don’tcare.”
“Glad you’re open-minded.”
“That’s me. Embracing diversity in all its shapes and forms.” I grabbed the oh-shit handle as he roared around another curve fast enough to make the mailboxes cower. “Slow down, eh, Mario? You flattened all of their tires. They won’t be after us. But the police might if we shoot through town doingeighty.”
“Right.” He slowed down as he drove toward the highway. “Where are we goingnow?”
“How far are you willing togo?”
“Depends on your destination. I’d have a hard time getting excited over Burns or Hood River. Also, I have to get gas if we’re going more than fiftymiles.”
“I need to get to Seattle.” I didn’t expect him to drive me six hours to get there and was about to say so, but he smiled over at me—at my collarbone actually, reminding me that he couldn’t seeme.
“I love Seattle. Good clubscene.”
“I didn’t know yard-art creators were big intoclubbing.”
“I’m only twenty-five. If you pay for gas, I’lldrive.”
I glanced at my side mirror, half expecting to find police barreling after us. Nothing but the city’s ubiquitous SUVs were on the road behind us. Dare I hope we could make it all the way to Seattle without being pulledover?
“I suppose they saw your license plate,” Imurmured.
“Nah. The plumber statue by the mailbox squirted black oil all over it. It’ll bleed off soon enough, but it should have kept them from getting the plate number if they didn’t think to record it earlier.” He grinned at me. “What do you think of my yard art? I admit when I was making it, I wasn’t imagining a scenario quite so interesting. I just thought your mom might appreciate help defending againsthoodlums.”
“The hoodlums ofBend?”
“Yeah, they live in the seedy part ofdowntown.”
“Where is that exactly? Between the yoga studio and the furniture store that sells ten-thousand-dollarcouches?”
“No, two blocks south of that. And I think the couches there are twenty thousand dollars. The owner of that store turned her nose up at me when I tried to get them to carry myart.”
“I’llbet.”
I checked the mirror again, hoping my mom and Rocket would be all right. And hoping I could get to Seattle and find a cure for Willard before the government caught up tome.
