She gets the car started then does the same with another. Bree jumps in the back of the other car. Of course, Charlie joins Bree, and Penelope, too, wanting to be with her favorite human, clambers in. Then Jack starts barking at the kids and dog in the back seat, making it very clear that he wants to ride with his furry companion.

Ryan beelines for that car.  “I should stay with Jack,” he says. “Plus, I want to drive.”

Molly takes the passenger seat in the other car next to Zeke. Ben takes the backseat behind Zeke and Molly, then it’s just me and Stephan.

“After you,” I say, trying to get him to take the pressure off me over whose car I get in.

He laughs and shakes his head. “No way. I wanna see who Brooke is going to choose!” He makes a kissy face.

“You’re a jerk,” I hiss, looking from one car to the other, from Ben to Ryan, torn, not knowing what to do.

Thankfully, Bree leans out the window. “Come with us, Brooke!” she cries. “Please, please, please!”

I smile. “Of course.”

I turn and clamber in the seat beside Ryan while Stephan waltzes to the other car, whistling nonchalantly as he goes. I don’t look for Ben’s expression. I don’t want to know how angry he is with me for choosing Ryan over him once again.

Once we’re all strapped in, Ryan guns the gas pedal and reverses out of the lot. Zeke does the same. At last we’re on the road, in vehicles. For the first time, the chances of us making it to Texas don’t seem so small.

“Let’s get to the Mississippi already,” I say.

Our two cars cruise along side by side, heading west. As we go, we try to avoid any of the towns or cities, cautious about how close we get to built-up areas. There’s no knowing whether they’ll be in enemy hands, crawling with slaverunners ready to kidnap us and bring us to their arenas. So we stick to the open roads wherever possible, the ones that cut straight through barren landscape.

Darkness falls like a blanket of black. We can hardly see anything beyond the hood of the car, and we certainly can’t see Molly, Zeke, Stephan, and Ben’s car behind us.

Ryan’s a careful driver but I know in another life he wouldn’t be. In another world, a world without the war that’s ravished everything, Ryan and I probably wouldn’t even get along. He’d be the cool senior boy, a bit fringe, a bit tough, driving some beat-up piece of junk and never seen without his trusty pit bull. I’d be… I don’t know what I’d be. I can’t even imagine who I’d be without all the terrible things that have shaped me.