“I know. But we need to be able to see any turnoffs we could go down,” Breakfast countered. “A dirt road. Something to get us off this open stretch.”
“We won’t outrun them,” Lily said in agreement.
They all scanned the side of the road. Caleb kept craning his head to look back.
“I see them,” he said grimly. “Looks like the ranger’s brought all his friends.”
Lily turned and looked back to see several dark specks on the road behind them.
“There!” Tristan said, pointing. “A turnoff.” It was no more than a path through the dunes, but it was their only option.
Rowan cranked the wheel. Sand kicked up behind them as they turned. Lily looked back at the telltale cloud, and drew in a breath. Her willstone flared as she stole the momentum out of the particles of sand and grit, first stilling the cloud and then dropping it back to the ground, covering their tracks.
“Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it, Lily,” Rowan said, teeth clenched as he focused on maintaining control. Sand slipped under the wheels and the ungainly van slid as if on snow.
As Lily quieted the dust, she softened the light hitting the van as well. Without sunlight reflecting off the metal, the tan van blended seamlessly into the tan sand.
Ten minutes, fifteen, half an hour passed, and still there was no sign that they were being followed. They jolted down the path at an arduously slow rate, the axle creaking and the engine growing hotter as the sun climbed in the sky and turned its glaring gaze on the desert.
Lily put her hand on the dashboard and took as much heat from the engine as she could, but there was nothing she could do about the axle if it broke. She fed her mechanics’ willstones with the harvested energy, and as the hours passed the coven grew drunk on strength. When the axle finally gave way with a screech, they were actually relieved to get out of the van and have something to do with all that energy. Lily, however, was not at all happy to have to walk.
She stepped out of the shade of the van and into the sun and felt her fair skin tighten in rebellion. Rowan opened his pack and started stuffing packets of salty chips in it for Lily.
“Keep converting as much of the sun’s energy as you can,” he told her. “That will help. And I have plenty of burn salve for later.”
“Great,” Lily mumbled. She took out a long-sleeved hoodie from her pack and put it on, opting to swelter rather than burn.
Tristan counted the remaining water bottles and glanced at the map. “It’s not bad news, but it isn’t great,” he told Rowan. “We have enough to get us to the next gas station across the dunes, but that would be pushing it.”
“We’ll push it, then,” Rowan said. He didn’t have to remind them that they couldn’t wait a few hours for the sun to set. They had to keep moving.
Rowan took one of the water bottles and shook a combination of herbs into it. “Here,” he said, pulling Lily aside and giving her the spiked water. “It will give you a temporary burst of energy.”
Lily drank it down and felt a jittery lightness quicken her muscles and widen her eyes. The coven set off into the dunes, gliding with unnatural speed over the sand.
Carrick heard the crackle of speech coming through the black device on Simms’s hip and adjusted his uniform to cover the spot of blood on the collar. So many officers had come and gone while Simms plowed on without sleep that she hadn’t noticed when Carrick “replaced” the former occupant of this particular uniform and made himself a fixture at her side.
“A group of teenagers that fit the description was just seen heading toward Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado,” said the disembodied voice. “They had California plates.”
The voice went on to recite the number and letter combination that Carrick had seen on the van. It was Lily’s coven. Somehow Simms’s face lit up with recognition, although she hadn’t seen the plate number as Carrick had.
“That’s them,” she said into the device. “I want them followed, but no one is to approach until I get there.” Simms turned to another officer in plainclothes. “Start the chopper,” she said. Her eyes were dilated and Carrick could smell adrenaline-tinged sweat starting to seep up through her pores, but the other officer balked.
“We’ve gotten a dozen of these calls,” he argued. “Half the high school graduates in the US are taking road trips to the national parks right now. Why don’t we have the locals pull them over and send us pictures for our informant to identify?”
“Abbot, it’s them,” Simms said. “I know it. We’re just wasting time.” Her irrational vehemence only weakened her position in the other officer’s eyes.
The officer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s been a really long couple of days.”
“It’s them,” Simms promised quietly. “Something’s been wrong with this whole situation right from the start. Strange disappearances. Ritual murders. And now talk of a nuclear weapon. We need to stop them before they do something . . .” Simms trailed off, unable to pinpoint what it was she thought they might do.
“We don’t know it’s even them,” he began.
Simms didn’t stay to hear the rest. She stepped around the other officer and went outside to order the chopper for herself.
“Damn it,” Abbot said, giving in. “Send backup to her location.”
“How much?” another officer asked.