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As Adam’s bike roars to life, and he pulls out of the lot, I reverse the shitty Datsun, and follow.
I call Slasher as I drive, not taking my eyes off Adam for longer than a second as we leave the streets of Santa Cruz and head back toward Watsonville on the highway.
Slasher fills me in that the Reapers next to Maude’s have just left too, and Munroe is tailing them while Stretch and Tio follow the general direction on surrounding streets, ready to take over the tail should Munroe lose them.
I’ve ordered them to remove their cuts just as I did Sully, hoping that as long as they don’t come across a Reaper that knows them well, they won’t be recognized. I need this to fucking work. We’ve already decided that tonight is nothing more than a rescue mission. If we have to spill blood, then so be it, but I can’t risk an all out war while Zoe could be in the firing line.
No. Tonight is just about getting Zoe back.
Adam speeds up on the Cabrillo Highway, going way too fast as he follows the road around the outside of Watsonville, only to turn off the main road on the other side, heading toward the farming region.
Slasher sends an update that they are in that area too, and fuck, my heart nearly leaps from my chest. We have finally found them.
I keep well back as Adam pulls onto another road lined with some sort of crops, and a quick glance over the field shows me a single house sitting alone, packed with cars and bikes.
Fucking got them.
I drive a little further up the road and take a side street, only to have another white car pull up alongside me, and Slasher leans across the passenger seat and winds the window down.
“We fucking found them.” He grins, and fuck, I can’t remember the last time I saw that light in his eyes.
“Fuck yeah, we did. Now I just have to figure out how to get inside and not get spotted.”
“It’s fucking Devil’s Night, man.” He holds up a tub of something and shows me the label.
“Face paint?”
He nods, all too fucking pleased. “Let’s cover that pretty fucking face of yours so you can’t be recognized.”
Laughing, I nod, turning the engine off and getting out.
Munroe pulls up a minute later, explaining that the others are doing the same fucking thing a few streets over and I smirk.
“Why wasn’t I made aware that this was happening?”
“Dude. No way were you gonna let us talk you into wearing fucking makeup.” Munroe chuckles.
“We also didn’t know if this was going to be a dress up thing.” Slasher adds. “It was Alana’s last-minute idea to take this stuff just in case.”
“Huh. Well I bet she’s gonna be pleased to know she was right.” I grin and Slasher rolls his eyes.
“She’s gonna want payment.”
“Bro. Like you don’t want to fuck her every fucking hour of the day, anyway.” Munroe punches Slasher’s shoulder before they set to work painting our faces.
Slasher paints mine all black, even my fucking top lip, with red covering my lower lip and a red wavy line coming from each corner.
It’s feels tight and sticky, and I’m so fucking tempted to scratch the stuff off, but I don’t, and in the end, Slasher and Munroe have their faces painted the same as me too.
“Did you pre-plan this?” I point to my face, and then theirs, and Munroe nods. “That was Tido’s idea. As long aswe stay apart, we can recognize each other, but no one will recognize us.”
“Also, the black is a good disguise, don’t you think? I found a picture online and copied it.” Slasher holds up his phone to show me the picture and I try to raise a brow, but the fucking thing is stuck in place by the sticky paint.
“It’s actually concerning that you’re so into this. I’m second guessing making you my second.”
That wins me a weird-looking smirk from Slasher and I realize he can’t fucking move his cheeks.
Jesus, I hope this works because I really want to tease him about his makeup skills later.
