If this had been a city, he could have programmed the vehicle with their destination and let it take them there. But it wasn’t the city, and there were areas they had to cross that didn’t even have roads. The only way to cover the ground was manually.
“Yeah. Does your animal talk to you?”
“No. Impressions. Emotions. Vague images. That’s about it. This started with her, right?”
“You think there’s a connection?”
He shrugged. “Maybe she woke something in the snake. Maybe her presence hurried that evolution along. Like I said, I don’t like coincidence and the way she can call to your snake, the way it’s taken with her, that worries me. I think she’s having an effect—on you and the snake.”
“I don’t see how. All this stuff with my animal is probably just a natural development of our freaky genetics. That’s the problem. We’ve got no way to predict what’s going to happen to us next. Hell, for all I know, I’ll wake up one morning and find scales covering my body instead of skin.” He rubbed a lock of Friday’s hair between his finger and thumb. Silk. Pure silk. “That’s why we need her. None of us know what’s coming our way.”
“I’m not sure one baby scientist can give us the answers we need.”
“You got a better idea?”
Silence was the answer. Another few miles passed before Mace spoke again. “I sure as hell hope we don’t turn into our animals. That would piss me off big time.”
Knowing what his friend had for an animal partner made that statement all the more entertaining. Striker tried to laugh quietly, but he couldn’t prevent his chest from shaking. The movement disturbed Friday’s sleep. She stirred, and he soothed her with gentle caresses and murmured words.
Once she was deeply asleep, Mace glanced over at him. “What kind of things does your snake say?”
“Mainly it tells me I’m an idiot and that Friday belongs to him.” He let his head fall back onto the padded headrest. “When you were arguing with her, he told me he was going to bite you for upsetting her.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh yeah. He damn near freed himself to do it. I was itching so much I had to fight to stay still.”
“I thought they couldn’t get free without us calling to them. Well, everyone else’s animals, anyway.” He sounded seriously pissed off about that, too.
“Still having problems?” Striker couldn’t stop from sounding amused.
“Go to hell,” was the terse reply.
“Never mind breaking free without us calling to them. I thought they couldn’t talk.” In all honestly, he’d been thrilled his snake couldn’t talk. One voice in his head was more than enough. “And I thought it was only me who could call the snake. Friday proved that wrong.”
Mace ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “This crap we’re dealing with is enough to make you lose your mind.”
“Yeah.”
“Sometimes, I wonder why us. Why were we the ones in that cave? Did God just up and decide we needed more to deal with?”
“Mainly, I wonder how we’re gonna get through the day. Or how we’re gonna stay safe. Or how we’re gonna cope with what the future brings. I don’t got no time for the why of things.”
“Well, if I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
“Appreciated.” With that, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the woman in his arms.
…
Friday woke to Striker’s gentle prodding. “Are we there yet?”
“Kids,” he scoffed, confusing her. “We’re about five minutes out from the airfield. You need to have something to drink and eat.”
She felt foggy as she sat up. Her limbs were heavy, and she could have slept for another twelve hours straight. She took the water bottle he offered and drank as she looked out the windows. They were on the edge of the city. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but there was a glow announcing its arrival around a massive, strangely shaped mountain to the east of the urban sprawl.
“Saddle Mountain,” he said.
Of course he would know what it was called. Next to Striker and his team, she felt incredibly ignorant. He’d traveled the world, lived in two lifetimes, and had experiences she could only imagine. All she’d done was survive.