CHAPTER TWENTY
One week later …
I sat in the old, abandoned bus stop on the outskirts of Los Congrejos, my suitcase sitting on the ground by my feet. I looked up and down the road, but did not yet see the Rubbermobile, though Adams had called me half an hour ago to tell me that he would be here any minute now to pick me up. It wasn’t very hot today, so I didn’t mind having to wait, although I was also eager to get back home to Golden City, because I’d missed my home a lot since leaving and couldn’t wait to see it again.
Sitting by my side was Nightbolt, with Spike lying at his feet, as if he, too, was waiting for a bus ride. Nightbolt was reading a copy of the Los Congrejos Gazette, which was apparently Los Congrejos’ local newspaper. It wasn’t very thick—just two or three pages—but Nig
