frightened them; the doe and fawn fled across the parking lot, weaving like spirits through the disinterested Bellows now emerging from the field of tanks.
The buck remained. There seemed to be a field of power emanating from it, almost humming. Its moist snout blew two strong plumes of breath. Its coal eyes held the glass.
Michael told himself, It’s just looking at itself. It can’t see in.
But no. No, he felt that the animal was staring at him.
Chills, not entirely pleasant, powered across Michael’s skin. He stood in stunned silence, mentally and physically frozen. I didn’t see the cliff coming, and there wasn’t anyplace left to run . . . but I still survived.
Was it possible . . . something was helping him? Was that real, or was it him hoping it?
He felt a quickness of warmth fill him: small at first, a candle in a cave; but it grew. In truth, it began to torch. There was no reason that he should feel good. None. There was no clear path for escaping Jopek right now.
And yet . . .
And yet, Michael suddenly knew: I’m going to get us out of here. Somehow, I am.
He jumped when Holly yelled, “Captain! Not here!”
She was in the rear of the store, behind the pharmacy counter, just past the glass condom cases he always pretended not to notice when he went to a pharmacy with Mom.
Michael took one last glance back at the buck.
It was gone. Must have left to find the others.
How do you know you can get out of this, Michael thought, shaken a little out of that nearly eerie silence.
Because . . . he answered, smiling, because that’s what I always do.
And then he was dashing down the aisle to the pharmacy, not even caring that the keys were tambourining in his pocket.
He slapped his hands on the white pharmacy counter. “Hey,” he greeted in a whisper.
Holly had been looking at a door with a square of darkened glass that led to the storerooms. “Oh. Hey,” she said, trying to sound friendly, then turned away again. “Capta—”
“Heyshutupwaitwait,” Michael hissed, scrabbling over the counter. He came down on a collection of empty pill bottles, half-skated on them. He reached Holly and without thinking, put his hand over her mouth.
“Can I help you?” she said, muffled and angry. She shook her head out of the muzzle, leaving Michael’s hand slimy.
“Sorry, but please don’t yell for the captain.”
There was a scuffy sound beyond the door—the sound of steps moving over spilled boxes and coming closer. Sounds of Patrick talking to Jopek. Hurry.
“We’re getting out of here,” Michael continued. “Grab some Atipax and we are gone.”
“What?”
“I’m going to tell Jopek I got an alert from the soldiers, on the radio in the Hummer.”
“That’s . . . not gonna work, Michael.”
“The food is ready, though. And I’ve got the keys.”
“He’ll just get on the radio and check—”
“I’ll drive away before he can—”
“He’ll take the keys—”
“He doesn’t know I have keys—”
“He will if you say you used the radio in the car!”
“So I’ll say something different, I’ll figure it out,” he said, stringing the moments together, riding the words as they sledded from his mouth, not sure what to say until he was hearing the words, too. And God, it felt right, yes-yes.
“Michael,” she said emphatically, “I’m not leaving.”
“Why?”
Another firecracker string of gun bursts, this time closer, this time accompanied by a strobe, visible through the dark glass. He heard Jopek laughing.
Jopek called through the closed door: “Searched all the rooms, Holly! It ain’t here!”
“What ‘ain’t here’?” Michael said to Holly . . . and in that moment, something flashed inside his head: Hank crying and saying, What if the captain can’t find it?
“What are you looking for, when you go on these ‘missions,’ Holly?” he said. “What is it you and Hank want the captain to find?”
All the defensiveness, evasiveness, and forced friendliness that she’d used that morning evaporated from Holly’s face. Right then, she was just the self that she had shared last night. The kind-but-frightened self. “I . . . don’t know what you mean.”
What does she want more than anything? “Is it your dad? Is he still somewhere in Charleston?”
“What? No, he’s not in the city,” Holly said, and Michael knew by the surprise in her voice that she was telling the truth.
“Whatever it is, I can find it for you, too. I can help you better than Jopek, he’s an idiot—”
Holly snapped at him, “Stop! You’re not perfect, either, Michael! You got