Page 82 of The Vigilante's Lover

If Jax is alive, then where is he?

Mark and Jovana seem giddy now after watching the video of Jax’s execution.

But I can only stare out the window in a bit of a daze.

We’re driving incredibly fast now, using that Vigilante super speed, and normal civilian cars get left behind as though they are parked on the highway rather than driving alongside.

“So how are you guys going to fake MY death?” Mark asks.

Jovana stops laughing. “Shut up around her.”

“Come on, you said that by this time tomorrow, it won’t matter,” Mark says. “Can I get blown into space? I want something fantastic.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jovana says. “It has to be easy to place in the record.”

That explains Klaus, I think. His faked death.

I’m so ready to be out of this car. A dozen muscles are killing me from trying to stay still.

“We should take some side roads,” Jovana says. “Probably that do-gooder will be tracking our potential routes by now.”

“All right,” Mark says. He taps the map on his dash screen. “We’ll do a little zigzag.”

We exit the interstate and head along the frontage road a while. Then the car makes a dramatic turn onto a small two-lane highway.

“How much time will we lose?” Jovana asks.

Mark fiddles with the screen. “An hour.”

Jovana rests her head on the back of her seat. “That’s fine. We’ll still get there in time.”

For what? I wonder. And what do they need me for?

I want to ask, but don’t bother. They seem to have forgotten about me for the moment.

A car appears at the crest of the hill ahead, coming at us with incredible speed.

“That’s not civilian,” Mark says. A red alert goes off on his dash.

“Shit, I bet it’s that girl again,” Jovana says. “Can you lose her?”

“Maybe,” Mark says. He guns the car.

Colette’s image and information come on the dash, filling it this time since she’s not on the screen herself.

Colette Rigal

Phase Six Driver

Last Known Location: Missouri Silo

Immediate Commander: Alan Carter

Too bad the car won’t listen to my commands anymore. I’d make it stop.

Colette blows past us. I turn to see where she goes, but the laser grid zaps me in twenty places. “Ouch!” I shout.

Jovana laughs. “You don’t learn very fast, do you?”

“Is the car coming around?” Mark asks. His eyes are on the rearview mirror.

Jovana swivels in her seat. “Yes. She’s turning.”

“Damn. She’s a Phase Six,” Mark says. “She can outmaneuver me in a heartbeat.”

I’ll say. I remember how she was able to cut me off when I was walking. She can turn that car on a dime.

Trees and driveways whip by us as we fly along the narrow highway. It’s rural here, plantation country, but there are vehicles on the road. Mark’s car deftly swerves around a tractor and two pickup trucks.

“Did we lose her?” Jovana asks, peering out the back window.

“Hardly,” Mark says. “She’s gaining.”

We whip around two more cars. One of them blares a horn at our speed.

“Cloaking isn’t very effective out here,” Jovana says.

“It’s afternoon. Visual cloak doesn’t work well in full sun.” Mark’s voice is full of concern. “If she hails us, we have to stop.”

I want to ask what he means, but then the dash screen fills with big red words: VIGILANTE HAIL PROTOCOL.

“Don’t respond,” Jovana says quickly. “I’ll take the heat.”

Mark glances over at her. “That’s a downgradable offense in the network. I just made Phase Five last month.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Jovana says. “I’ll talk to Sutherland.”

I decide it’s time to play my trump card. “You sure about that? Because from what I’ve seen in the past twenty-four hours of knowing you, he isn’t returning your calls.”

The screen flashes again. RESPOND TO HAIL.

Jovana reaches forward and hits something. “I’ll do it.”

But the dash doesn’t change.

“Car won’t listen to your voice or respond to your fingerprint,” Mark says. He catches my eye in the rearview mirror.

Time to practice my lying techniques by mixing a little false stuff with the truth.

“Jovana called Sutherland last night from a parking lot in Nashville,” I tell Mark. “He wouldn’t answer.” I shift my eyes to her. “You also weren’t the first person she called to try to bail her out. The others knew better.”

Mark turns to Jovana. “Tell me she’s lying.”

She clasps his arm. “She’s lying. I talked to Sutherland last night. You can pull the records easily. And who was Sutherland’s original recruit? Me. Who got this whole plan started by taking Jax out of the picture?”

Mark relaxes. “All right.”

“She’s drugging you, can’t you see that?” I ask. “I’m not even a Vigilante and I can tell she’s using a prosthetic skin with a drug.”

He looks down. Jovana withdraws her hand.

Time to finish this up. “You probably want to offload me as soon as you can,” I say. “She kidnapped me because she was too desperate and out of choices to deal with any legitimate Vigilantes in the network.”

“SHUT UP!” Jovana yells. She almost flings her arm at me, but then remembers the laser grid and jerks her hand back before it crosses the lines.

Mark punches the dash. “Accept hail,” he says.

Jovana lets out a rush of air. “Don’t make me cut you out of the deal,” she says.

But she’s too late. The dash reads “Vigilante 07398 requests to commandeer your vehicle. This operative is your superior. Failure to comply will be instantly reported to your silo.”

“Don’t do it,” Jovana growls.

But Mark says, “Accept.”

We slow down and roll to a stop on the side of the road. Just ahead is a sign for a farm, the rusting metal pipes forming a rectangular arch over the slats of a cattle guard.

“System under control of Vigilante 07398,” the car announces. “Security deactivated.”

The laser grids blink, then disappear.

“Great,” Jovana says. “Just great.”

I let out a long breath. I push aside a piece of hair that fell over my eye hours ago that I’d been unable to move. I rub at the small of my back, where my tension has formed a knot.

The light on the buckle by my hip blinks out. I press the release button and the lock unsnaps. I sit forward on the seat, stretching. It feels amazing.

I turn around to see if Colette is behind us.

She’s driving the same silver BMW that I rode in when Jax made me go with her after escaping the Missouri silo.

My heart warms with the memory, even though I was mad at the time.

He can’t be dead. I won’t believe it. Colette will know for sure. She’ll tell me.

But suddenly I don’t want to know. I want to hold on to the hope that he is fine. That what I saw in the video was right, that he was doing it for show. I whip back around, wanting to just keep going, driving forever so I don’t have to face facts if he is dead after all.

Jax went down so hard. Is he that good? Could he fake that?

Fear curdles in my belly. Mark and Jovana sit silently up front. She’s stewing, arms crossed in front of her body.

“Here she comes,” Mark says.

I turn again. Colette closes the door to her car with her hip, a dart gun held out front with both hands.

Her dark pixie hair blows around her face.

She looks like something from the Roaring Twenties with her pert nose and lined eyes, her body encased in a fashionable low-waisted dress in white and navy.

She makes Vigilantism look good. I am happy to see her, despite my worries about Jax.

“I’ll handle this,” Jovana says. She fiddles with something on her wrist. I spot the edge of where the prosthetic skin must begin.

“You changing your drug to a poison?” I ask her.

Mark glances down, eyes wide. He grabs at her arm. “You WERE drugging me!”

“It was for your own good,” Jovana snaps. “You need to complete this mission well if you want to get anywhere in the new network.”

Colette approaches the windows. I know she can’t see us, as Vigilante cars have fake windows that make it appear you can see the interior but you can’t. She takes one hand off the dart gun and opens the back door.

Sunlight blasts in. Colette takes a step back, the gun out, until she sees me. “Come on, Mia. You’re leaving with me.”

I grab my backpack and start to slide across the seat, but Jovana decides to make a break for it, opening her door and dashing around the car.

“Colette!” I shout. “Watch out!”