No Passengers Beyond This Point(39)

I wiggle out of the seat belt and pull the receiver toward me. The curly cord stretches taut. “Um ma’am, could we speak to Sparky, please?”

The wind howls. Hailstones the size of jawbreakers hit the windshield. The few bugs left are bludgeoned to death by ice pellets.

Chuck seems to need brute strength just to keep the car on the road.

“Mechanical alert!” Francine’s voice is panicked now. She doesn’t seem to have heard me. Did I push the right button to transmit?

“Come in, forty-four. Vehicle Performance Group confirms your vehicle is not made to withstand the crushing forces of this storm. Forty-four! Threat level red. Return requested immediately.”

Chuck’s neck swivels for a quick look at me. “How much time do you have?”

“Eight hours, seventeen minutes for me. Nine hours, seventeen minutes for Mouse,” I tell him over the pounding hail pelting down on the windshield. “If we go back, will there be time to try again after the weather breaks?” I shout.

“Doubtful. It will take time to find the black box!”

“What about India?” Mouse cries. “We can’t leave her.”

“Human Performance Group has their concerns about your behavior, forty-four.” Francine’s radio voice buzzes. “Please turn back your vehicle. Return requested immediately. Federal laws prohibit tampering with—”

Chuck grips the wheel with one hand. With the other, he reaches up and switches the radio off.

The defroster struggles to keep the windshield from fogging up. The feathers on the hood ornament are flattened straight back with the force of the gale.

I’m panting, trying as hard as I can not to panic. I hang the radio receiver over the front seat. My heart is hammering. “Where is the black box?”

“Near the airport, I think!” Chuck shouts, but we can barely hear his voice.

“You think?”

Chuck shrugs.

“How do we find it?”

“It emits a sound, like a radio beep.” Chuck strains to be heard over the howling wind. “The tunnel dogs can hear it.”

I crack the window and the icy air bites through my shirt sleeves. How will a dog hear the beep of the black box over this? A new sound like lawn mowers on full power roars in my ear. And then I see the Black Hawk helicopters gunning for us.

“They’re coming down,” Chuck hollers. “They’ll take us back. Look, you have to decide right now what you want to do.”

I grab Chuck’s shoulder. “What if you go back? Can you get India, while we find the black box?”

“I can’t make her come with me, Finn. It’s her choice. And you and Mouse won’t last out here without the car!”

“Leave the car then!” I shout.

“They’ll chase the car. It’s Falling Bird property. They won’t go after you if you’re on foot . . .”

“Mouse, you go back and convince India! I’ll find the black box,” I tell her as the Black Hawk helicopters hover over our heads like mechanical birds of prey.

“I’m not leaving you!” Mouse cries as the hail turns to snow, which makes the highway slick and the tires slip and slide over the road.

“This is crazy, Mouse. We won’t survive. Look at it out there.”

“I’M STAYING WITH YOU!” Mouse shouts, her good hand clamped around my arm.

“Find the tunnel dogs. Win them over. They’ll lead you to the box, but you’re going to need a vehicle . . .”

“Where are the tunnel dogs?”

“In the Bird’s Nest Passage. Get the dog first, then worry about the vehicle. That’s my best guess.”

“Your best guess?” I cry.

“Look Finn, be careful. Not everyone wants you to make it. Francine . . .” But the chop-chop of the helicopters drown out the rest.

I pop my clock out of the seat. I have to take it with me, just like India took hers. It feels a part of me in some creepy way. Mouse grabs hers too as the helicopters land in a whipping rush. Snow blows through the open window.

Chuck floors the taxi. The tires squeal and skid, then grip the ground as he drives off the road, steering between two landing helicopters, over the muddy, snow-dusted terrain to a clearing in the woods.

The helicopters are powering down, the great engines humming at a lower octave. Now that they’ve made contact with the ground, they can’t power up again quickly enough.

“We’ll send Bing back!” Mouse shouts in my ear over the deafening noise.

She digs in her pocket for Bing’s wallet.

“Mouse, stay with Chuck. You won’t make it out here with your broken arm.”

“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING YOU!” she shouts. “Chuck, when you find India, give her Bing’s wallet.” She presses the wallet into his hand.