Page 62 of Falcon’s Forever

“The precinct is another mile ahead,” he says. “Pull in, wait five minutes, then return using the western route.”

“What about the medication?” I ask into the radio.

“Forget it,” Zip orders. “Knox can send someone else later.”

“That puts another brother on the road,” I point out.

“And?” Zip challenges.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “Whoever was behind us already knows we’re moving.”

“Exactly,” Zip replies.

He means that’s the argument for turning around, and I know he’s right. It’s the smart call. It’s the same call I would tell anyone else to make.

I reach the intersection. The precinct lies west. The second pharmacy is east.

Before I choose, Hustler’s phone buzzes.

“It’s Knox,” he says, reading the message. “Rachel is getting anxious, and she’s started cramping. He can manage her through the day if he has to, but he’d rather not.”

Rather not isn’t the same as has to.

I know that the moment I hear it.

I turn east anyway.

“Falcon.” Hustler braces one hand against the dashboard. “Zip said to go to the precinct.”

“I heard him,” I reply.

“He’s going to lose his shit,” Hustler warns.

"He'll survive." And I know the second the words are out of my mouth that's exactly what old me would say, right before doing something old me would do, and I pick up the radio anyway. I key the radio. “Zip, we’re changing route. We’re going back for the medication.”

Silence fills the channel for a beat.

“No,” Zip replies sharply.

“Rachel needs it,” I argue.

“Knox can handle Rachel,” Zip reminds me. “You need to return to the compound.”

He’s right, and some ugly, honest part of me knows it.

Rachel doesn’t need me. She needs Knox to make a call he has already said he can make.

What I need is for one thing on this compound not to go wrong on my watch. Retrieving somebody’s medication is easier than sitting with the fact that I can’t control everything.

“So we send somebody else into the same area?” I challenge instead.

That part is at least half true, and half the truth is enough to keep me moving.

“Falcon,” Zip warns.

“I’ve got Hustler with me,” I insist. “We’re staying on the main roads, and you know exactly where we are.”

Vulture’s voice cuts across the channel. “Falcon, return to the compound.”