“Don’t think I won’t look that up!”
I dialed Dad’s number and held the Gizmo to my ear. Each successive unanswered ring raised my blood pressure.
“No answer from Dad.” I drummed my fingers on the control console.
Dale drove with one hand and pulled out his Gizmo. “Try Lene, I’ll try Bob.”
I called Lene’s number. It rang and rang. I hung up when it went to voicemail. “Nothing,” I said.
“Bob’s not answering either,” Dale said.
We exchanged nervous glances.
“Maybe Rudy caught wind of it and arrested everyone….” I pondered. I hovered my thumbs over the Gizmo and pursed my lips. Calling the police in the middle of a heist wasn’t the best plan. Logically I should have waited until we were back in town—they’d be just as arrested then. But I couldn’t wait.
I called his number. Four rings and out. I hung up.
“Jesus,” I said.
“Seriously?!” Dale said. “Even Rudy’s not answering? What the hell’s going on?”
Sanchez pulled out her own Gizmo and tapped at the screen.
“Hey!” I grabbed at her Gizmo, but she pulled it away before I could get it. “Gimme that!”
“No,” she said crisply. “I need to know if my people got back safely.”
“Bullshit! You’re calling for help!” I lunged at her. She dragged us both to the floor.
“Knock it off!” said Dale.
She tried to swing at me but only had one hand to work with—the other had a death grip on her Gizmo. I blocked and slapped her across the face. Oh God it felt good to get a hit in.
“Stop that shit!” Dale yelled. “If you idiots hit the wrong button we all die!”
“You told that harvester to
kill me! Admit it!” I swung at her.
She dodged to the side and hammer-locked my arm. “Of course I did! How dare you try to destroy my life’s work!”
“Goddammit!” Dale skidded the rover to a halt.
He waded into the fray and pried Sanchez and me apart. Despite what you see in action movies and comics, bigger really is better. A six-foot man just has too much of an edge over two slim women.
“Listen, assholes,” he said. “I’m too gay to enjoy this catfight. Knock it off or I’ll bash your heads together.”
“Language.” Sanchez resumed dialing her Gizmo.
“Would you stop her, please?” I said to Dale.
“If she can reach anyone I’ll be happy.” He let us both go, but kept a wary eye on me. Somehow he assumed I was the aggressor. Just because I wanted to claw that bitch’s eyes out and shove them up her urethra.
Sanchez listened to the Gizmo for a response. Her expression grew fearful by the second. She hung up.
Dale looked to me. “Now what?”
“Since when am I the leader?”