Page 93 of The Love Interest
She stares at me for a second, then opens her mouth. Her eyebrows furrow and she pouts before turning and leaning her head against the headrest. Why is she acting so strange? It hits me: that was the first time I’ve ever bossed her around. The power in our relationship has shifted, and now she has no idea what to expect from me. I want to explain myself to her, to tell her that I’m not an awful person, I’m just not the meek boy she thought I was. I want to tell her I understand this change must be a shock to her, but that I’m still pretty much the same guy, only better, because now I can finally say what I truly think and feel.
I want her to know the real me.
I open my mouth, but she closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep. If she doesn’t want to talk, I need to respect that. It’s the only way I’ll ever rebuild any form of relationship with her.
“So after Caden, I’ll drive,” says Natalie. “Then Trev, then Dyl. And then the cycle repeats. And I know what you’re thinking, Trev, but I’ve driven in a car with you so I know you’re actually a pretty decent driver. Much better than you think you are, anyway. So you can drive on your own for a few hours. You’ll be fine.”
Trevor scratches his forearm. “Yeah, becausefineis exactly how I’d describe our current situation.”
***
It’s been eight hours since we went on the run, and the red gas gauge has started flashing. I’ve watched it flash so many times now it’s burned into my retinas, and the image lingers even when I close my eyes.
Dyl’s driving, and I’m in the middle of the backseat, wedged between Natalie and Juliet. No matter how I try to position myself, my thighs are always touching one of them. Juliet hasn’t said a word to me since I moved to the backseat, and when I look at her she always turns her head and looks out the window.
“We need to stop,” says Dyl. His voice is deeper and more gravelly than usual. “Are you sure there’s a station up ahead?”
Juliet chews her bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter, because that thing’s not going to let us refuel. But we can do something about it. Come on, you guys, I know we’re all thinking it.”
“I’m not thinking anything,” I say. “What areyouthinking? You’re the genius.”
I meant it as a compliment, but like most things I’ve said recently, it comes out sounding harsh.
Juliet fiddles with a long strand of her hair. Her long, slightly pink fingers are shaking. “I think we need to fight it.”
“I wasnotthinking that,” says Dyl. “It’s a killing machine. There’s no way we can face it. No way. It’ll butcher us all. There was this video they showed us, back in the LIC, of it ripping a Nice’s head off with its bare hands. It’s unstoppable.”
“I have weapons,” she says. “They’re in the back of the truck. While Nat and Trev were loading the truck I went to my lab and grabbed some of the things I’d been working on. I brought your suit, Natalie, and the Black Hole Bombs and the Bolt Gloves and a few other things. We can fight it if we plan our attack. If we run out of fuel and it catches us we’re all screwed. If we plan ahead, we can at least try to take it out.”
“So what’s the plan?” I ask.
Juliet grins. “I say we blow it up.” She rubs her palms together. “The bombs, they’re strong enough to do it. If I can get to the detonator and we plant it in its path, I can destroy the Stalker. I know I can. All we’ll need is some sort of building to hide in while we plant the bomb.”
Dyl sighs. “How do we even know a bomb will work?”
I roll my eyes. “What else are we going to try, Dyl? Should we just give up and die? If that’s what you want to do go right ahead, but I want to at least try something, and this is the best plan we have.”
“No, you’re right,” he says. “Sorry. Wait, you were saying we needed a building? Because look.” He points out his window. The sun is slowly rising, and against the pink sky is the outline of a barn. “Will that do?”
Juliet nods. “It’s perfect. Okay, we need to do this now. Is everyone ready to run? Dyl and Caden, I’m going to need you to be bait. Nat and Trev, run in the opposite direction in case anything goes wrong. Okay?”
“Wait, what?” says Natalie. “What are we doing?”
“When the truck stops, get away from us. Caden, run to the back and find the black backpack. That’s the one with the bombs. Grab it and then run toward the barn.”
The barn is rapidly approaching.
“Stop, Dyl! Make it look like the gas ran out.”
Dyl puts his foot on the brake and the truck rolls to a halt. Trev grabs the door handle, swings the door open, and jumps out; Juliet follows him. I leap out after them. I turn for a second and look down the road. In the distance is a lone figure. It lowers its head and moves into a sprint position.
I wrench the tarp off the back of the truck and start searching for the backpack. Natalie and Trev leap off the road and sprint toward the forest. I scramble through a pile of clothes, then a pile of cans, then my fingers touch scratchy canvas. I grab one of the straps and pull, revealing a black backpack. I turn. The Stalker is about five hundred yards away and closing fast. Juliet and Dyl are in front of the barn, where Dyl is pushing up a plank of wood, trying to open the door.
I sling the bag over my shoulder and run. The bag jostles as my feet pound against the damp grass. Dyl drops the plank of wood and the barn door swings open, creaking as it moves. I reach them and pass the bag to Juliet.
“Is this it?” I ask, my voice harsh from breathlessness.
“It is.” Her eyes go wide. “Now move!”
