Page 157 of Switch!

“Wait!” I call out.

He doesn’t slow.

“Caleb! Wait!”

He finally stops, letting me get closer. “Stay away from the road,” I pant, gesturing to my right. “That way. See where that line of trees ends? That’s where you wanna go.”

He turns in that direction and takes off again. Good. I give chase, pushing Roscoe to his limit, but that’s part of the plan too. His lungs are burning, the blood pounding in his ears. I hope I don’t give the poor guy a heart attack. I keep him running until Roscoe starts to stumble. He’s dizzy. Caleb is pulling ahead of me now, so I finally make the leap, shooting through the void to catch him. His aura is strange, yellow tinged with black, the edges crackling with ultraviolet light. Do I always look that way?

I collide with him. If reuniting with Jesse felt similar to putting on a comfortable pair of shoes, returning to my natural body is like slipping into a tailormade suit, every hem and seam resulting in a perfect fit. Caleb glances behind him and sees Roscoe hit the ground. There’s no other sign of pursuit, but we can’t rest yet.

Keep running toward those trees, I think.Hurry!

Caleb starts to slow in confusion. I can’t allow that, so I take over.

“It’s me,” I say, momentarily distracted by how good it feels to hear my own voice from the inside again. “Don’t freak out. Our ride is up ahead. We’ve gotta keep moving.”

My body is winded too, but it’s lighter and younger than Roscoe’s. I have some steam left in me yet. I can finally see the outline of a car when the memories hit me. Everything that Caleb has done while we’ve been apart. It’s a confusing jumble that makes my head sear with pain. Now I know how Patrick felt. I try to force the images and sounds away, my vision blurring. I trip and almost fall, summoning all of my willpower to keep going. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other. As soon as I’m close enough to the car, I leap from my body and straight into the driver.

We’re here!I mentally scream.

“That’s him,” Jesse says, reaching down to pop the trunk.

Trixie opens the passenger-side door, steps outside, and walks around to the back of the car. “In you go!” I hear her say.

“What?” Caleb shoots back. “I’m not—”

“We have seconds, not minutes, to get out of here,” she says with a scowl. “Get in the trunk,now, or you’re on your own.”

The back of the car dips as Caleb climbs inside. Trixie slams the trunk shut and hops in the passenger seat. She gives a thumbs up to Jesse who starts the engine but leaves the headlights off. We’re parked on a country road that passes by a farm, and we’ll need to drive by it. I want Jesse to hit the gas and get us the hell out of here, but he’s too cautious. We coast by the farmhouse, the interior dark. As soon as we turn onto a different road, the headlights come on and Jesse barely pushes down on the gas, not even breaking the speed limit. It’s making me crazy, but I understand. Anyone going over the speed limit is going to look like they have a reason to go fast. We don’t. We’re just two friends out for a late-night cruise. With a body in the trunk.

The car heads north, then east until we hit the interstate, which we take back into town. We drive directly to the motel, certain that we’ll see flashing lights in the rearview mirror at any second. We don’t. Jesse backs into a parking spot right in front of our door. Once we open the room and check to make sure no witnesses are around, we pop the trunk and smuggle Travis inside. After the door is safely shut, I’m overcome with manic laughter, because we did it! Caleb is free! Now we just need to figure out how to keep him that way.

Thirty-four ↔ Chapter

My amusement doesn’t last long, nor is it shared as I lock the motel room door. We keep the lights off as we cluster around the window, peeking through the curtains for any sign of trouble. We hear distant sirens, but none of them come in our direction. Yet. I wish we had one of those police scanners.

Caleb breaks the silence. He pulls his shirt collar away from his body and sniffs self-consciously. He’s a sweaty mess from running and being stuffed in the trunk of a car.

“Did you bring my backpack?” he asks. “If we have to bounce, I don’t want to be wearing these clothes.”

Can’t say I blame him, considering that his shirt hasDepartment of Correctionsstamped on the back. “It’s on the bed,” I tell him.

“Good. I’m taking a shower.”

Trixie and I watch him disappear through the bathroom door before she turns to me.

“Did you manage to delete Jesse’s name from the records?”

I nod. “Yeah. It took forever, but it’s gone.”

That’s a relief, Jesse thinks.

Trixie exhales and seems to relax. “Then I can’t think of any reason for them to come after us. What happened exactly?”

We turn on the bedside lamps, giving us much-needed light, and I tell Trixie what happened. Quietly, just in case nosey neighbors are listening in. I’m still feeling paranoid. Enough that I switch on the TV halfway through my story to make it less likely we’ll be overheard.

Trixie winces when I get to the part about Caleb hitting Jim with the tray. “Not good,” she says. “He should have ran off without racking up new charges. How bad was the guard hurt?”