Harper
I read it twice, then a third time, like the words might rearrange into something less ominous.
Right on time, Harper. Like I was a bus he'd been waiting on, and he'd had the schedule all along.
I tilted the screen sideways and let Vane read it for himself without taking his eyes off what was left of the road.
His jaw set.
"They know where we are," I said, keeping it under the engine. "Right now. Down to the minute."
"Which leaves two answers." His voice stayed flat. "The satellite's already theirs. Or it's riding in one of these trucks."
Neither was the kind of thing you said out loud with strangers boxing you in front and back. I checked the mirror. Camp One's grille filled it, Goran a slab behind the wheel, Sable's polished smile a pale smudge beside him.
"Don't answer it
