6In the EastThe tires squeal as I make a hard right turn out of Vanessa’s driveway.
Jayce swears and clutches the dashboard to balance herself.
The sirens wail behind us, gaining volume. I glance at my rearview mirror, certain I’ll see flashing blue lights in our tread. Cops. Human cops, with guns. Maybe they won’t notice the skid of our tires, the smog left in our wake. The obvious signs of a hasty getaway.
Maybe.
I flatten the gas pedal beneath the ribbed sole of my new boot and floor it.
The rearview mirror remains empty. The sirens fade, their sounds disrupted by trees and elevation. I let out a hard breath and adjust my hands on the steering wheel.
“Close call.” Jayce peers behind us. “Vanessa couldn’t have planned that any better herself.”
“Vanessa did plan it,” I mutter, and
