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"Man, ruin my fun," Ryder says, grinning. "Sunglasses is such a lame name. I like mine way better."
Blaise shoves the jacket at Ryder then positions the sunglasses in front of me. "Hold still while I put them on. I don't want to poke you in the eye."
I freeze as he inches the sunglasses toward my face. I half expect my eyeballs to get jabbed, but the sunglasses settle comfortably around my head and over my eyes. The lenses cast a shadow on the surroundings.
Slowly, Ryder removes the jacket from my head. I squint, expecting the pain to return, and it does, but the ache isn't nearly as unbearable.
My eyelashes flutter. "Everything looks ... weird." I wave my hand in front of me.
Ryder studies me with his head cocked to the side. "You're being ridiculously adorable right now."
"Watch it," Blaise warns
Ryder rolls his eyes. "I'm not doing anything."
Blaise scowls at him. "Stop looking at her like that and start worrying about how you're going to smooth talk the watchers if we get stopped and questioned."
The smile vanishes from Ryder's face. "I wasn't ... I mean--"
"All right, you two, that's enough," Reece says, slowing down the car. "You can fight all you want when we get back to the station."
Grumbling something under his breath, Blaise reaches for the door handle and climbs out of the car.
"I'm going to check the area out just to be safe," Reece says then gets out of the car.
Ryder hands me the leather jacket. "Here. Put this on."
I slip my arms through the sleeves and pull the jacket over my shoulders. It's way too big and bulky, but I'm grateful to have something other than a ratty T-shirt.
"Just one sec." Ryder hesitantly extends his hand toward me.
I stiffen, at first not understanding, but then his fingers wrap around the zipper, and he zips up the front of the jacket.
"I don't want you getting cold." He offers me one final smile before hopping out of the car.
Scooting to the edge of the seat, I peer outside, and my jaw nearly smacks the ground. Nothing looks like I imagined it. Sure, there's similarities, yet everything is so different.
The land is dusty and dry, and the air is laced with dirt. The cracked ground spreads for as far as I can see. The treeless land is bare. I angle my head and look up. It's a little harder to see up in that direction, mostly because of the sunlight, but I can make out the startling red hue of the sky, like spilled blood. This doesn't make sense. Why isn't the sky blue like I remember? Are the sunglasses doing something to it?
"Allura." Ryder's voice draws my attention to him.
When I first saw him in the darkness of the cell, I thought his eyes were kind. In the sunlight, the kindness is even more visible.
"I promise, when we get back to Leviter Station, I'll take you up to the viewing area and we can stare at the sky for as long as you want, but right now, we need to get you into the compartment before we're spotted."
I want to ask him questions, ask him why everything looks strange, but I realize that now probably isn't the best time.
I can ask later when we're safe.
He offers me his hand. I almost don't take it, but with how weak my legs feel, I don't think I could stand up by myself, so I place my palm in his. His eyes briefly widen, but he swiftly composes himself and carefully helps me to my feet.
The dirt feels too coarse against my bare feet, the air too dry. I cough, my shoulders heaving.
Ryder looks at me worriedly. "Are you okay?"
I nod, patting my chest. "I'm not used to dry air."
Agony fills his eyes. "Come on. Let's get you safe." Threading his fingers through mine, he guides me around the car.
Walking feels strange. Wobbly. Unsteady. Complicated. I feel so exposed in the shirt and jacket I'm wearing. I keep messing around with the bottom, trying to make the fabric stretch farther.
"When we get to the station, we'll get you new clothes and some shoes," Ryder says when he notices me fidgeting.
I nod, almost smiling at the idea of having something to wear other than a tattered shirt. I'm so lost in the idea that I don't pay attention to the car until we stop at the back. The bizarre looking vehicle has a heavy-coated black exterior; tinted, domed windows; three doors; and overly large wheels with metal rods poking out of the rims. Definitely not how I remember cars, but perhaps I'm not remembering correctly. Maybe Blaise was right, and I really haven't been out here before.
Blaise rounds the back of the car with his hands shoved in his pockets. He takes one look at me and his expression plummets. "Why do you look so worried?"
"I'm not worried." I bite my lip. "I was just thinking about how ... This doesn't look like a car to me."
He tugs off the fingerless gloves he's wearing. "What did you think cars looked like?"
"I don't know ... smaller and less rounded. The wheels look strange, too." I feel stupid as soon as I say it and stare down at my feet.
"Maybe you're thinking of something else. Like, maybe a motorcycle." Ryder hooks a finger under my chin and tips my head up. "It's okay. You don't need to be embarrassed about it. Blaise once thought a sink was a bathtub."
I glance at Blaise, wondering if it's true. Blaise shakes his head, but he doesn't argue. I feel a bit better that he has confused things, too, but wonder why.
Blaise aligns the palm of his hand to a square pad on the back of a car. "Does she know what a trunk is, then?"
"It's the part on the back of the car," I say. "Although, the trunks I remember didn't have square pads on them. They had keyholes."
Blaise stares at me like he's trying to figure me out. I really wish he would so he could tell me what's going on with me.
When the pad glows green, the trunk pops open. Blaise reaches inside, peels back the padded flooring, and opens a compartment door. Inside are a few guns and a sling of bullets.
"We should've put more ventilation in this thing."
The red sky and bright orange sun make the piercings in his face glisten. Without his jacket on, the tattoos winding up his arms are noticeable. But they're not just tattoos. They're names woven into thorns and vines and roses. In the midst is a girl's face. She looks like she's crying, and it makes my chest hurt.
When Blaise notices me staring, he rubs his hand across the tattoo, as if trying to erase the ink. He clears his throat a couple of times before turning back to the trunk. "I thought Reece was going to hook a fan up in here."
"He hasn't gotten around to it yet." Ryder moves up beside Blaise and peers inside the trunk. "We can leave it cracked if we need to."
"We can't do that." Blaise folds his arms across his chest. "If anyone looks in the trunk, they'll know the compartment's there."
"But what if it's too hot in there for her?" Ryder sticks his head inside the trunk and pats the floor with his hand. "I don't want her to be uncomfortable."
"Just being in there is going to make her uncomfortable," Blaise says, "especially if she's claustrophobic."
I'm about to tell them that I'll be fine, that I can handle muggy air and claustrophobia just as long as it means I don't have to go back to the channels, when Reece comes running up, out of breath, his eyes wild.
"I just spotted a couple of patrol vehicles on the crossway." He points a finger in the direction he just ran from. "We need to get back on the main road before they drive out here and start questioning us."
"Shit." Blaise reaches for me, and I instinctively trip back. His eyes pop wide open, and he freezes, his hand suspended in front of him. "I was just going to help you get in. I wasn't going to--"
The strangest sound echoes through the air, like a reverberating wave. At first, I think Reece went back to the car and started up the engine, but then I realize Reece is still standing beside me, and so are Blaise and Ryder.
The color drains from their faces.
"Fucking shit. They sent a Tracker," Blaise growls, his gaze darting toward the front of the car.
&nb
sp; I don't know what Trackers are, but with how terrified the three guys look, my guess is that they might be deadly.
Chapter Five
Trackers
For a chilling moment, Blaise, Ryder, and Reece are frozen in time. I worry somehow they really are frozen. Perhaps that can happen in this unfamiliar world. But then another boom rattles the earth, and they all jump into action.
Ryder and Reece draw their guns from their holsters while Blaise snags my arm and yanks me toward him. I stumble over my feet and crash into his chest, my cheek smashing against his shoulder. I start to push back, but his arms circle my waist, and he presses our bodies close.
Another boom explodes from somewhere, and dirt bursts through the air. The ground quivers beneath me, and I look down, seeing the cracks in the dirt splitting apart and widening.
I clutch Blaise's arm. "What's happening to the ground?"
He tracks my gaze, and his face turns pale. "Shit!"
"Blaise, get her in there!" Reece shouts. "Now!"
