Reyna put two fingers in her mouth and let loose a taxi-cab whistle so shrill it cleared out my eustachian tubes. From inside the fort, her two metal greyhounds came running, barking like small-weapons fire.
“Oh, good,” I said, trying to suppress my panic-and-run instinct. “Your dogs are coming.”
Reyna smirked. “Well, they’d get upset if I drove to San Francisco without them.”
“Drove?” I was about to say In what? when I heard a honk from the direction of the city. A battered bright red Chevy four-by-four rumbled down a road usually reserved for marching legionnaires and elephants.
At the wheel was Hazel Levesque, with Frank Zhang riding shotgun.
They pulled up next to us. The vehicle had barely stopped moving when Aurum and Argentum leaped into the bed of the truck, their metal tongues lolling and tails wagging.
Hazel climbed out of the cab. “All gassed up, Praetor.”
“Thank you, Centurion.” Reyna smiled. “How are the driving lessons coming along?”
“Good! I didn’t even run into Terminus this time.”
“Progress,” Reyna agreed.
Frank came around from the passenger’s side. “Yep, Hazel will be ready for public roads in no time.”
I had many things to ask: Where did they keep this truck? Was there a gas station in New Rome? Why had I been hiking so much if it was possible to drive?
Meg beat me to the real question: “Do I get to ride in back with the dogs?”
“No, ma’am,” said Reyna. “You’ll sit in the cab with your seat belt on.”
“Aw.” Meg ran off to pet the dogs.
Frank gave Reyna a bear hug (without turning into a bear). “Be careful out there, all right?”
Reyna didn’t seem to know what to do with this show of affection. Her arms went stiff. Then she awkwardly patted her fellow praetor on the back.
“You too,” she said. “Any word on the strike force?”
“They left before dawn,” Frank said. “Kahale felt good about it, but…” He shrugged, as if to say their anti-yacht commando mission was now in the hands of the gods. Which, as a former god, I can tell you was not reassuring.
Reyna turned to Hazel. “And the zombie pickets?”
“Ready,” Hazel said. “If Tarquin’s hordes come from the same direction as before, they’re in for some nasty surprises. I also set traps along the other approaches to the city. Hopefully we can stop them before they’re in hand-to-hand range so…”
She hesitated, apparently unwilling to finish her sentence. I thought I understood. So we don’t have to see their faces. If the legion had to confront a wave of undead comrades, it would be much better to destroy them at a distance, without the anguish of having to recognize former friends.
“I just wish…” Hazel shook her head. “Well, I still worry Tarquin has something else planned. I should be able to figure it out, but…” She tapped her forehead as if she wanted to reset her brain. I could sympathize.
“You’ve done plenty,” Frank assured her. “If they throw surprises at us, we’ll adapt.”
Reyna nodded. “Okay, then, we’re off. Don’t forget to stock the catapults.”
“Of course,” Frank said.
“And double-check with the quartermaster about those flaming barricades.”
“Of course.”
“And—” Reyna stopped herself. “You know what you’re doing. Sorry.”
Frank grinned. “Just bring us whatever we need to summon that godly help. We’ll keep the camp in one piece until you get back.”
Hazel studied Reyna’s outfit with concern. “Your sword’s in the truck. Don’t you want to take a shield or something?”
“Nah. I’ve got my cloak. It’ll turn aside most weapons.” Reyna brushed the collar of her sweater wrap. Instantly it unfurled into her usual purple cape.
Frank’s smile faded. “Does my cloak do that?”
“See you, guys!” Reyna climbed behind the wheel.
“Wait, does my cloak deflect weapons?” Frank called after us. “Does mine turn into a sweater wrap?”
As we pulled away, I could see Frank Zhang in the rearview mirror, intently studying the stitching of his cape.
Our first challenge of the morning: merging onto the Bay Bridge.
Getting out of Camp Jupiter had been no problem. A well-hidden dirt road led from the valley up into the hills, eventually depositing us on the residential streets of East Oakland. From there we took Highway 24 until it merged with Interstate 580. Then the real fun began.
The morning commuters had apparently not gotten word that we were on a vital mission to save the greater metropolitan area. They stubbornly refused to get out of our way. Perhaps we should have taken public transportation, but I doubted they let killer dog automatons ride the BART trains.