They’ve stopped at a diner on historic Route 66, and, bucking the paranoia that the past year has infused them with, they have dinner in full view of anyone who cares to notice them. No one does.
Their car is a nondescript beige Honda that Connor hot-wired back in Phoenix, after ditching the Ford he hot-wired in Tucson, after ditching Nelson’s van. Anyone trying to track them would be hard-pressed to keep up with their transportation switcheroos.
The Rain Valley Diner boasts “the Best Burgers in the Southwest.” Connor hasn’t had food this good since before his parents signed his unwind order and his life turned upside down. As far as he’s concerned, the Rain Valley Diner has the best burgers in the world.
With one hand he eats his burger, and with the other, he does some information gathering on Nelson’s laptop, which the parts pirate was kind enough to leave for them in his van.
“Find out anything new?” Lev asks.
“It looks like Risa disappeared after the broadcast last night, and Proactive Citizenry wants her head. Not unwound, just her head. Like on a stake.”
“Ew.”
“And Hayden’s being charged with everything they can charge him with.”
“At least they can’t unwind him.”
“But they can unwind everyone else who got caught.”
The thought of the captured Whollies brings Connor waves of anger, chased by sadness that threatens to wash him down into the lightless places within himself. “I should have been able to save them. . . .”
“Hey, you did everything you could—and besides, they’re not unwound yet,” Lev reminds him. “Maybe what we do now can still make a difference for them.”
Connor closes the laptop. “Maybe . . . but what are we going to do now?”
They sit in a long, uncomfortable silence, doing nothing but eating, because that’s easier than answering the question. No plans, no destination, no idea what direction to go from here other than “away.” Connor’s first instinct is to find Risa, but he knows that, like himself, she’ll be completely off radar. He wouldn’t even know where to start looking.
“I could take you to the Cavenaugh mansion,” Lev suggests. “You’d be safe there.”
“Safe would be nice for once, but that’s not happening. Besides, didn’t you bail from there?”
“Yeah, well, if I come back with the one and only Akron AWOL, I think they’ll forgive me.”
“Keep your voice down!” Connor looks around—they’ve chosen a corner booth that’s relatively secluded, but it’s not that big of a diner, and voices carry.
“Maybe we oughta check out that ‘You-Tub’ place, get a Jacuzzi, and turn into a couple of spa potatoes. We deserve some downtime.”
He knows Lev is kidding, but there’s something about what he said that triggers a thought. It’s a small thought at first, but it grows quickly. An inkling becomes a hunch, becomes an idea, becomes a revelation, and Connor flips open the laptop again, clicking and typing furiously.
o;Unless the first mate knocks him out and throws him in a lifeboat.”
Connor just glares at him.
“Fine,” says Lev. “You wanna punch me?”
Connor chuckles at that and looks at his right arm. “Careful what you ask for, Lev—I pack quite a punch these days.” Then he shows Lev the tattoo.
“Yeah, I noticed that. There must be a story there. I mean, you hated Roland, right? Why’d you get the same tattoo?”
Now Connor laughs out loud. Hard to imagine that Lev doesn’t even know—but then, how could he? “Yeah, there’s a story,” he says. “Remind me to tell you about it someday.”
Onscreen, they’ve cut live to the Graveyard, where “an unfolding drama” is taking place. One last batch of AWOLs has held off the Juvies by holing up inside an old World War II bomber.
“It’s the ComBom! Hayden held them off all night!” For Connor it’s almost like victory.
The ComBom hatch opens, and Hayden comes out, carrying a limp kid in his arms. He’s followed by a bunch of other kids, none of them in good shape. The Juvies move in, and so do the media.
“We’re witnessing the capture of the final AWOL Unwinds. . . .”