Either way, alls I know is that she wants back what I’ve got in my rubber sack.
I race to the end of the building, aiming to cut an L around it and lift the Omni closer to the walkway. Blood rushes to my head and I feel like gravity is going to drop me out of my seat, but the belt holds tight. This move is a gamble, but Kitaneh is way closer than she should be. Clearly, I’ve angered the beast.
Then I feel the waves rocking behind me, even with my lead. A quick glance in the periscope shows me that she’s pulled the same upside-down whirligig.
I wheel to the right, or left, since I’m upside down. In the semi-open water beneath the boardwalk, I straighten out the Omni. The veins in my head—practically mountains growing out from my forehead by now—return to normal size, and the relief of all the blood flooding back to its proper places nearly blacks me out.
I’m only a few feet below the walk when I see the shadow of her Omni behind me.
On the dash, my VoiceNav screen lights up, shows me TV snow. But I didn’t turn it on . . . ?
“Omni-to-Omni comm request. Do you accept the transmission?” the nav system’s synth voice asks me.
I look at the gray screen, unsure. This is not a feature my Rimbo has, nor is it one I want Benny to install, ever.
Do I accept? All she’s going to do is try to convince me to give the water back. That, or she’ll tell me that she’s going to kill me. Neither of which I care to hear.
But . . . I’m curious.
“Yes,” I say, and it still feels strange speaking into the air.
The snow flickers in and out, is replaced by Kitaneh’s face, cool and unfazed, on my dash. “You accepted,” she says, arching her brows. Then, with a nod, “Thank you.”
Not quite the reaction I’d expected, I think, realizing how little I know about this girl—this ancient girl. And all of a sudden, I feel bad for her. I feel bad that she married Derek, and that he would go behind her back kissing girls like me. Who are, like, 3 percent her age.
“You’re welcome . . . ,” I answer, quietly.
The screen goes gray for a moment, then all I hear is her voice: “Please . . .” she pleads, and I’m sure I look as shocked as I’m feeling. She’s saying please? Then her voice grows harder. “You think you’re doing the right thing, and perhaps . . .” She cuts out, but it’s not because of the connection. She’s stopped speaking. When her face returns to my dash, she looks desperate. Tired.
“Perhaps you’re right,” she says. “But the risk is too great. Governor Voss is no fool. Until the airdrop happens, he’ll be waiting for us. He’ll be on the lookout to see what we do.”
Though Kitaneh is probably right—he will be—I’m too close to give up. The sack is full; my sister’s life is in there and so are all the other sick. “I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for the button to drop the call.
Just before I press it, I hear: “Forgive me—”
The line goes silent.
I check the periscope again.
She’s still way too close—I have to lose her. So I zigzag, the best thing to do when someone’s coming after you like this. You can’t just zigzag, though, ’cause then that becomes a pattern, and they’ll just catch on. I weave between the boardwalk’s pylons, mixing it around—one, one, one, then skipping two or three and crossing over to the other side’s row.
I can’t keep this up.
The tank holds only enough gas to keep the steamer boiling water. It’ll be empty soon. Is that her plan? Skunk me out till I got no place to go but hell in a handbag? Her Omni don’t have laser guns or anything, so it’s not like she could blow me outta the water.
Then it dawns on me.
That’s exactly what she’ll try and do. I know full well she’d like to end me—all she’s gotta do is keep tailing me until I blow me outta the water. Collide with something. A wall. A pylon. Anything hard enough to make smithereens of me.
Okay, I think. I can work with that.
Once more I reach for the periscope. I bring my eye to it, but I’m too late—all I see is the bullet-shaped nose of her Omni clipping my tail.