and hours passed. Even after we were far enough away for me to release what had happened to memory.
But I couldn’t. Inside me, the past was colliding with the present, and the only thing I could do was just stay awake long enough to survive the nightmare it created.
MY FACE WAS EVERYWHERE.
Countless billboards. On the TV screens of homes we passed, in automated news alerts delivered to Priyanka’s burner phone, and on thousands of flyers posted on streetlamps, in the windows of stores, and in gas stations.
Roman had brought one back for us to look at during our last gas stop hours before. It was identical to the message and photo on the billboards, with one key difference: there was a second phone number to contact, and a small line of text at the bottom: This notice is brought to you by Moore Enterprises, in conjunction with the Moore for America campaign.
Later, we’d heard Moore issue the threat himself on the radio. “If Cruz can’t find Kimura, even with her vast resources, then I will.”
I’d looked up at the others and said, as calmly as I could, “I think I’m going to need a disguise.”
“Now we’re talking,” Priyanka had said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to look like I didn’t just crawl out of my own grave.”
We entered the edge of the small town so quickly, I didn’t catch the name as we blew past the sign. Roman eased up on the gas, slowing down to get a better look at its potential as a stop. The station wagon let out a pitiful whine as he shifted its gears. It had been too risky to keep the sedan, and pure luck we’d found the new ride abandoned next to a rail yard.
After a series of neighborhood streets cradled in the shade of overgrown trees, signs of renewed life had appeared. Work crews were out fixing downed power lines or clearing dumpsters full of junk and shrubs away from newly painted homes. Cars were parked in driveways, not abandoned in ditches along roads. People stood out in their lawns, talking to neighbors or walking dogs.
It’s working, I thought, feeling some small bit of hope for the first time in days. The government, for all the criticism leveled at it every single day, was improving lives. As soon as I had cleared my name, I’d work even harder. Help even more people.
But that small touch of life clearly had passed over the old strip mall up ahead. It looked like a snake’s skin, frail and silvery in the disappearing light. Most of the glass storefronts were still boarded up, and the others had been halfheartedly blocked off with police tape and NO TRESPASSING signs.
I caught sight of a large bin and pointed to it. “There. That’ll work.”
Roman cracked a faint smile. I hadn’t gotten control of the wheel back since the diner incident, and I didn’t think I was likely to. Not when we were within reach of Virginia. In the end, it wasn’t worth fighting. They were welcome to drive themselves right into my trap, just like I was welcome to use them as two extra sets of eyes to keep watch.
“Seems okay…?” Roman said, guiding the car behind the massive bin.
Garbage bags of clothing had piled up so high, its lid was one strong gust of wind away from blowing off. Children’s toys and bicycles were piled up alongside it, collecting rain and dirt. Unwelcome memories. There was no way to tell how long this stuff had been sitting out here, ten years or ten days.
“We’ll wait here for you,” I told him, unbuckling my seat belt. As the only one of us not drenched in blood, Roman was in charge of getting gas—by bribing someone to give up one of their ration cards, or by bribing the station attendant to run the pump off the books.
Roman rolled down his window. “Just…be careful, okay? I won’t be long.”
“Don’t worry, Ro,” Priyanka said. “I’ll find you the fluorescent tie-dyed shirt of your dreams.”
It was his long-suffering look as he drove away that almost made me laugh. Almost.
Priyanka was already busy sorting through the nearest bags of clothes that had been piled up outside the donation bin. “Oooh…Now this is what I’m talking about.”
She used a box of books as a step stool, pulling down a tied-off garbage bag. The arm of a purple silk blouse dangled out of a tear in the plastic. She hummed happily, digging through