“The city is bigger than I thought it would be.” Lights seemed to extend as far as the eye could see.
“About eight million now. That’s almost double what it was when the bomb hit.”
He seemed so casual about everything. She could only imagine what it must have been like to wake up to a completely different planet. “You had to relearn the world, didn’t you?”
“Some things never change.” He pointed at the mountain. “The sun still rises.” He gestured to the city lights. “People still live. Still work. Still play.”
The rumbled emphasis on “play” made her shiver. Without even realizing she was doing it, she leaned into him. His eyes softened. He placed his hand on the nape of her neck and urged her closer. His unpatched eye warmed, making her melt inside.
“Mornin’, bébé,” he said softly, before his lips settled against hers.
His kiss was slow and delicious, each taste stealing what little awareness she’d managed to gain since waking.
“I’m sitting right here.” A disgruntled voice cut straight through her haze. “And I think I’m going to be sick.”
With great effort, she broke the kiss and turned to the man who was fast becoming the bane of her life. “You’re still here.” And yes, she didn’t try to hide how disappointed she was.
He arched an eyebrow as though silently challenging her to do something about his presence. “Airport coming up.”
A horrible thought occurred to her. “Are you coming with us to Bolivia?”
“You can rest easy, little spy, I’m staying right here.”
She pursed her lips and thought of all the nasty things she could do to him under the pretext of testing his DNA.
“She’s plotting your demise, brother.” Striker sounded proud.
Ape-man snorted. “Bring it on. I’ll squa—”
There was a bang, and the car shunted to the side. Friday was thrown across Mace as he fought with the controls. The vehicle swung wide as he struggled to keep it on the road.
“You okay?” Striker snapped.
He had his weapon out and ready. His eyes weren’t on her but on the window. The car swerved right, and she felt something hit the back of it. They were under attack.
“Are you hurt?” Striker demanded.
“No.” Shaken, not hurt. “Is it Enforcement?”
“No. Enforcement sticks to the Territories. These guys are private.”
“Damn it!” Mace shouted as the car turned sharply, throwing her into Striker. “We’re cut off.”
There were vehicles behind them and what looked like a long-distance truck in front of them. It was the huge, driverless kind that tended to stick to the longer routes. This one had been used to block off the road. It was angled across their path, and there was no way around it.
“There.” Striker pointed at the windscreen.
An alley. Mace aimed for it, hitting the building and scraping against the walls as he took them into the narrow space. They barely fit. Sparks flew from the car’s body as they skimmed the brick. More shots hit the back of the car, and suddenly they thudded to the ground.
“I’ve lost hover.” Mace’s fingers flew over the console. There was a grinding noise as the wheels engaged.
The car s
quealed as they shot out of the alley and careened into a highway. Cars blasted horns at them. Signs flashed above the motorway: Slow Down! Friday held on tight to the console in front of her.
Striker’s focus was on their rear. “Four behind us.”
She snapped her head around to see he meant four vehicles were chasing them down, all still hover-enabled and fitted with weapons. As she watched, three more cars appeared from the road on the left. Seven. Too many. And then the new cars blasted the ones who were already following them.