“And have Phan and Calix tied to our necks again?” asked Kira. “This is the best chance we’ll ever have.” She looked around. “I don’t see anyone else—they’re all eating lunch, or playing football, or whatever these people do in this creepy place.”

“It’s called ‘living normal lives.’”

“And it could all just be a show for our benefit,” said Kira.

“Do you really think . . .” Samm shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry about all this,” said Kira softly, feeling the sudden weight of their never-ending quest crushing down on her shoulders. “I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”

“You know I believe in this as much as you do,” said Samm. “Other people’s normal lives are what make our crazy ones worthwhile.”

Kira felt a flush of emotion. “I promise you that as soon as we’re done saving the world, we’ll eat lunch and play football.”

“Deal,” said Samm.

Kira looked back at the spire. “Ready?”

“Try to keep up,” said Samm. He looked around for observers, then looked back at the spire and narrowed his eyes. “Go.”

They sprinted across the open clearing, dodging the stumps of fallen trees that dotted the lawn. Samm reached the wall first, vaulting over into the tall desert grass beyond; Kira followed, dropping to the ground in the tall brush. They held still, listening for cries of pursuit or alarm, but Kira heard nothing.

Samm was panting.

“Are you winded?” Kira whispered. “I didn’t think you could even get winded.”

“We’re still weak from crossing the wasteland,” said Samm. “Our bodies aren’t functioning at peak capacity.”

“I’m fine,” said Kira.

“So am I,” said Samm. “Let’s go.”

They crawled on their bellies through the underbrush, staying out of sight below the tall grass. Samm seemed back to normal again, and Kira forged ahead, determined to reach the building as quickly as possible—hidden or not, they could still be discovered until they were inside and away from prying eyes. Soon she grew nervous, afraid that the slow pace of crawling was taking too long, and rose up to a crouch to take a peek above the grass. The Preserve complex seemed quiet and still. She dropped back to her hands and knees and scuttled forward more quickly, the building now nearly in reach. Samm followed, his face grim and determined. When they reached the building he was breathing oddly again, not panting but taking long, slow breaths.

“Are you okay?”

“I feel strange,” he said. “Exhausted, like I haven’t slept in days.”

Kira couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. I don’t feel tired at all—was Samm really pushing himself this much harder than I was? Was I pulling so little of my own weight on this journey, and didn’t even know it? “Do you need to rest?”

“Not here,” said Samm. “We need to get inside.”