Enders(66)

“Let’s scope it out,” Hyden said.

Michael sat back in his seat. I’m sure he thought we were crazy and reckless. I didn’t blame him, but it wasn’t his father in there.



The navigator alerted us that we were approaching our destination. A wind kicked up, sending a tumbleweed rolling across our path. Up ahead, I spotted a low building in the shadow of the moon. As we drew closer, I could see that it was actually a compound of several concrete buildings surrounded by desert land.

I stared, looking at it through the bug-pocked windshield. “That’s it?” I asked.

Hyden nodded. “Somewhere in there is my father.”

“And hopefully mine.”

Hyden looked at me. We were bonded in that instant.

“How do we know that Brockman hasn’t faked your father’s voice the whole time?” Michael said.

“We had the video of my father. I saw him,” I said.

“And you created a fake broadcast of the Old Man to get the renters to return to Prime. You know just because you see it doesn’t make it true.” Michael thumped the back of my headrest. “We could be walking into a trap.”

“What do you suggest we do?” I snapped. “Give up? Go sit like moles in some underground parking lot? I’ve gone this whole year believing my father was dead. I won’t know for sure until I see him in person. I want to try.”

“If you want, you can stay with the car. Be a quick getaway for us,” Hyden said.

Michael blew a puff of air out of his mouth. Meanwhile, we were a quarter mile from the building. Hyden slowed down the SUV and brought it to a stop. I looked at him with raised brows.

“We shouldn’t drive up there,” Hyden said. “Too noisy.”

“But our chips will be on their radar,” I said.

“They’ve got a whole bunch of chip heads in there, so maybe they won’t notice ours.” He turned to look back at Michael. “So what’s it going to be, Michael? Stay or go?”

“I’ll come. You’re going to need all the help you can get in there.”

Hyden pulled down the weapons attached to the inside walls of the SUV and handed one to me.

“It’s loaded,” he said. “Michael, you know how to shoot?”

“No, he doesn’t,” I said before Michael could answer.

“Yeah, I do, Cal,” he said. “I went to target practice with my dad.”

I made a face. “You never told me.”

“There was no reason to. We didn’t have a gun, did we?”

Hyden gave him a handgun. “Now you do. It’s loaded. Safety’s on.” He also passed out strap-on holsters, knives, and plexi-cuffs.

“It’s a lot of stuff,” Michael said uneasily. “Maybe we should alert the marshals ourselves.”

“And how often do they come when you call them?” Hyden asked. “And just what are you going to tell them? We have these guns so we can avoid a shoot-out. If the marshals did come, and they won’t, that’s what we’d have.”

A slight breeze carried the sweet scent of juniper. Moonlight cast blue shadows on the cacti that watched us as we passed.

A small creature—a scorpion—crossed my path, scurrying to get out of our way.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO





We walked in silence on the hard sand, weaving between the Joshua trees and shrubs to make a stealthy approach. I thought about everything I wanted. How I might see my father. Maybe get my chip out. Maybe Brockman could be forced to tell us how to remove it. Then I might get to be a Starter again, instead of a Metal.

My eyes scanned the sand for any creatures to avoid stepping on. That was probably why I didn’t notice a covered jeep driving off-road, heading our way, until it was a hundred yards ahead.

The headlights were off. The last time we’d seen this, it hadn’t been good. And now we were too far from our vehicle to run back to it.

We were caught, out there in the desert night.

“Spread out. Get behind something!” Hyden shouted. “Shrub or rocks.”

Michael and I scrambled to find the biggest source of protection.

“Get your guns out,” Hyden said.

I got down on the hard sand behind a cluster of shrubs, my gun aimed. The guys did the same so that we formed a large triangle.

The jeep stopped before it reached us. The driver turned off the engine and opened his door.

My heart pounded, a thump-thump in my ears.

The driver had long white hair and thick black-rimmed glasses. He was tall and wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

“Easy, guys. I come in peace,” he said, his arms raised.

I recognized his voice. The Ender geek from Prime. “Trax?” I said.