“Stand up,” he says, turning his gaze to me.
“I told—”
“The last two stops on the map weren’t there.” He says it shortly, like it’s costing him something. “We passed the location of a safe house the day before yesterday. It was the building that had burned down. And our next stop is one of those buildings—” He points. “Covered in vines, so it’s a bust, too.”
“It’s kudzu.”
He furrows his brow.
I get back to my feet. “The vines are called kudzu. They grow a foot a day.”
He ignores the factoid. “Our water supply is planned around stops.”
“So we’ll find a lake or creek and boil water.”
He nods. “I’ve been looking. Haven’t seen any.”
I pick up my bag and take a step closer to him. “Why didn’t you want to tell me that?”
The dark amber of his eyes reminds me of the tea my father used to drink in Heliopolis. It gives me an unexpected tug.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” he says.
“But you wouldn’t feel that way about Marcus. Or Pax.”
He furrows his brow slightly. “I guess not.”
“What about Deb?”
His gaze sharpens. “What about her?”
“Would you have told her everything? Even though she’s a woman?”
He considers for a second, then nods.
“What is it about me that you don’t trust?”
“It’s not about trust.”
“Then wh—” I put a palm up, going quiet.
The rumble is faint. I listen for a few seconds and it gets louder.
“Something motorized is coming.”
“Fuck. We need cover.”
Evander scans the buildings in the distance while I pull an arrow from my quiver and nock it.
“Get your gun,” he says. “And get behind me.”
“There’s more than one.” I narrow my eyes, just able to make out three vehicles.
He moves to stand in front of me. “Let me do the talking.”
I step to his side. “Stop treating me like I’m helpless.”
The lead vehicle comes into fuller view. It’s a pickup truck—or it was once. It’s been modified with thick tires and bulletproof panels. The truck’s bed has a dark, reinforced cover that makes it look like a rudimentary cave. It could contain a Girl Scout troop or a bomb. I have a bad feeling about what’s in there.