I’m going to run out and get a few things first. We could use a burner phone, for one. Any requests?”
“I’m good.”
When the door clicked shut behind him, I stared up at the ceiling for a long while before flipping on the TV. Cooking show. News. Horrible rock video. Teen romantic drama.
I paused on the last one with a spurt of guilt. I’d been thinking of Hunter less and less. With no way to communicate, he was beginning to slip from my mind.
I looked at my finger, considering. Lucas had said my IP address was now fully cloaked. Maybe I should test it out. Lucas hadn’t been able to track Hunter’s cell signal, but it couldn’t hurt to try again.
Within a minute of trying, I had it. My breathing slowed as I located the telltale blip on the map. Hunter wasn’t in San Diego or Clearwater or even Chicago, where I’d last seen him.
Columbus. He was in Columbus, Ohio.
A scant seven hours away.
I rose and paced the room, my thoughts whir-whir-whiring in time to the ancient fan. Why was Hunter in Ohio? Was that where his mom had found a safe house? But how safe could it be if I could track him so easily?
Speaking of tracking so easily . . . if I could do it, then why hadn’t Lucas?
The sinister thought wormed its way into my head. Maybe Lucas had. Maybe he had, and lied about it.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, and my gaze settled on the upper portion of my chest. The left side. I lifted my hand, placing it where Lucas’s had been only minutes ago. I closed my eyes and inhaled, feeling my chest swell, and the rhythmic thump-thump of my android heart.
My hand fell away, and my eyes opened. I stared at my face, and saw a scared girl. A lonely girl who’d experienced more than her fair share of pain.
Lucas had stood by me through thick and thin. He’d never given me reason to doubt him. I wasn’t about to start now.
Returning to my spot on the bed, I flipped until I found a sitcom, and waited for Lucas to return.
NINE
Sonja Lopez’s neighborhood wasn’t much when compared to the serene suburbs of Sherman. Many of the lawns had been converted to gravel and hardscape, and older model cars dotted the driveways and streets. Very little charm, but the houses and duplexes were tidy for the most part. Practical.
An automatic light clicked on when Lucas and I approached the concrete walkway. My body tensed, the sudden change a reminder that any new place could trigger a death sentence for me and anyone else in a quarter-mile radius. But all was quiet as we walked toward her building. We passed a small patch of grass, where a lone tree grew amidst a clump of sodden wood chips. A cheerful wreath crafted from orange and yellow leaves hung from a scarred and peeling front door, emitting a faint fragrance of sweet mixed with decay.
Lucas stepped onto the porch and the wooden board creaked beneath his shoe. My sensors picked up something unexpected.
Security system.
Video feed.
With a casual turn of my head, I spotted the camera, disguised as part of an outdoor light that shed a sickly glow over the porch. I elbowed Lucas lightly in the ribs to get his attention. When he turned toward me, I pretended to rub my nose.
“Video camera,” I whispered.
His eyes widened, mirroring my own surprise.
A security system didn’t seem out of place. But a video camera, in this neighborhood?
Weapons scan: 5 firearms within a 50-ft. radius.
Looked like someone was prepared for a break-in. Or an old Western-style shootout.
With Lucas standing so close our shoulders almost touched, I knocked on the door. A gruff response came from behind the door.
“Who’s there?”
I slapped what I hoped was a friendly smile on my face and recited our brief story, much as Lucas had at Maggie’s. To my surprise, a series of beeps chirped—the alarm, disengaging—followed by the metallic clank of locks being unbolted.
The door eased open, revealing a medium-height, middle-aged woman. Though she had brown skin and a wide forehead like the Sonja in the photo, the similarities were hard to find after that. That Sonja had life in her eyes, and a healthy glow on her round cheeks. Her brown hair had been full and glossy.
The woman who gazed at us looked like a walking skeleton. Sunken cheeks on a face that somehow, despite her deeper skin tone, managed to