Midnight Sun (The Twilight Saga #5) - Stephenie Meyer Page 0,254

danger.

I turned away from her.

I’d thought I’d known what burning felt like.

Carlisle and Emmett fell into step beside me. I took the bag from Emmett. I knew what the tracker expected—that I would be too weak to let her out of my sight. I cradled the bag as though it contained something infinitely more precious than footballs and hockey sticks as I rushed down the front steps flanked by my brother and my father.

Emmett climbed into the backseat of the Jeep and I placed the bag upright beside him, then quickly slammed the door, trying to look stealthy about it. I was in the driver’s seat in a flash, Carlisle already beside me, and then we were jolting up the drive at a pace that would have horrified Bella if she’d actually been there with us.

I couldn’t think like that. I had to trust Alice and Jasper and keep my head focused on my part.

The tracker was still too far away for me to hear him. But I knew he was watching, following. I’d seen it in Alice’s head.

Turning north onto the freeway, I accelerated. The Jeep was a lot faster than the truck, but it wasn’t fast enough to get any headway, even at the maximum speed I could chance without risking the engine. But I didn’t want to outrun the tracker now. He would only see that I was pushing the Jeep hard, as though escape were truly the motive. I hoped he wouldn’t realize I’d chosen the Jeep for just this purpose. He didn’t know what else I had in my garage.

For just a flicker, he was close enough to hear.

… take a ferry? It’s a long way around otherwise. I could cut through.…

“Make the call,” I said, barely moving my lips, though I knew he was too far behind us to see my face.

Carlisle didn’t bring the phone to his ear; he kept it by his thigh, out of sight, as he dialed one-handed. We all heard the quiet click as Esme picked up. She said nothing.

“Clear,” Carlisle whispered. He disconnected.

And I was disconnected, too. I had no way to see what she was doing now. No chance to hear her voice. I shoved the despair away from me before I could start wallowing.

I had a job to do.

24. AMBUSH

THE TRACKER CHOSE TO RUN BEHIND US, UNWILLING TO GUESS AT OUR route. Every now and then I would catch the edge of his thoughts, but never more than a few words, or a view of the Jeep. He followed on higher ground, in the mountains, unconcerned when it took him miles from the road. He could still see us.

I didn’t want to think about where Bella was now, what she might be doing and saying. It would be too distracting. But there were a few things left undone.

I whispered instructions to Carlisle and he typed messages to Alice’s phone. It probably wasn’t necessary, but it made me feel better.

“Bella needs to eat at least three times every twenty-four-hour period. And hydration is important. She should have water on hand. Ideally eight hours of sleep.”

Carlisle, still keeping the phone low, texted as quickly as I could speak.

“And…” I hesitated. “Tell Alice not to talk about our conversation before in the Jeep. If Bella has questions, deflect them. Tell her I’m very serious about this.”

Carlisle looked at me curiously, but typed my message.

I imagined Alice on the other end, rolling her eyes.

She only texted back the letter y in acknowledgment. I took that to mean that Bella was still awake, and Alice intended to keep my instructions to herself. She must see an unpleasant reckoning if she ignored me.

Emmett was mostly thinking about what he would do when he had the tracker in his grasp. His imaginings were pleasant to watch.

When we had to refuel, I used one of the large gas cans Emmett had loaded into the backseat. In my pocket, Bella’s socks would leave the faintest trace of her scent in the air. I moved in a blurred rush, as if my only goal was to race away again, and I was pleased when the tracker came closer to watch. For a moment, he was no more than a mile away. I wanted to take advantage, to flip this flight into an ambush, but it was too soon. We were still too near the water.

I didn’t try to be evasive about our route, driving in the straightest line the curving freeways allowed toward my destination. I