CHAPTER 35

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I stare into the darkness for several heart-wrenching seconds, waiting, hoping, praying that Kayla survived. The truck rumbles like a locomotive beneath us as a series of dim lights flash by overhead. As we pass through the tunnel, the pitiful fixtures shine down and illuminate my dad in a grim twilight for a few fleeting moments. Each time he grows dark again, his eyes turn red like he's a ghost or a monster, or both. I know it's a trick of light and darkness, but it's haunting.

I force my gaze to look past him, not to focus on the man who, at the moment, used to be my dad. Peering beyond him, I search for hope that Kayla is still alive. I'll take anything. A flicker of a reflection on the Jeep from the tunnel lights. The slightest growl of the SUV's engine as it continues its pursuit of the semi-truck. Anything. Even...

As the thought dies and my hope dwindles, headlights switch on behind Trailer 2. It's the Jeep. It's Kayla and Agent 24. She's still alive.

In the meantime, while I've been probing the dark to make sure she's okay, my dad inches toward me with a harsh scowl on his face. He grunts with each snake-like advancement.

I push up, intending to back away, but one of the overhead lights whisks by my head, stirring my hair. It was that close to bashing my brains in.

With my dad creep-crawling toward me, I slither backward, trying to maintain a safe distance.

Another light reveals his nose and mouth, twisted into a sadistic snarl.

That's not the dad I've grown to know recently. The Collective has bent his mind.

Three feet from me, he stretches toward me, ready to snatch me by the collar and toss me from the trailer top. But a split second before his hand reaches me, we burst from the tunnel into brilliant daylight, back on the open road, and both of us back on our feet in seconds.

My dad lurches at me and lands a right hook. His knuckles bury into my cheek, launching me toward the edge of the trailer. I slide along the top, friction bringing me to a halt with my head and shoulders out over the roadway. I shake myself and shuffle back to safety, only to rise in time to get nailed by a left hook. The punch sends my body to the other side of the trailer.

That's it, dad or no dad, I'm not taking this anymore, I think with a glare of retribution in my eyes.

I leap to my feet and gain my balance. It's time to get my Agent 23 on...

With these punishing shots, maybe I should refer to my dad as Agent 1? As I turn around, he hits me with a jab to the nose. A warm wetness trickles down my upper lip, and I taste the coppery tang of blood.

I swipe it away and raise my fists.

As I prepare for the battle to come, the drone shifts from the right side to over behind us. I assume the operator is trying to gain a position where the next missile won't affect Zero's precious cargo in the trailers.

The Jeep is out of sight, which means Agent 24 is staying close to the rear trailer to keep the drone from firing at them. Smart move.

What?

He jerks the Jeep into the left lane, drawing up beside the truck so Kayla can get a shot off at the grenades. But oddly, the semi hasn't swerved over to stop them. I wonder why? When I look over the side of Trailer 1, I see a concrete divider separating the two lanes. Either it's a leftover from construction or it signifies a dangerous stretch of road up ahead.

I dodge another punch and shy away, glancing over my shoulder to see a sign revealing a curvy line with an arrow at the top. As I step back, my dad glares up at the drone, which has shifted over to the left to get behind the Jeep. I'm sure the person behind the controls is gaging whether a missile impact will damage the semi, since both vehicles are still near each other.

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