“You okay, there?” she asked, righting herself. “You don’t seem very chipper for someone who just got broken out of jail.”

Michael shrugged. “I guess I’m still trying to put it all together.”

“Thanks for the message you sent me,” she whispered. While separated, both Michael and Sarah had hacked through the prison firewall systems to send notes to each other. “It helped a lot.”

Michael nodded, gave a half smile. A horrible image formed in his mind—Sarah dying beside the lava pits, her last struggle for breath before exiting Kaine’s Path in the deepest folds of the VirtNet. Michael had dragged her into all this. And her parents. And Bryson. It had broken his heart to see her in so much pain, and he couldn’t stop wondering—did worse fates await them than virtual molten rock?

Bryson leaned forward to look at them. “Hey, no one sent me a message. That’s not cool.”

“Sorry,” Michael said. “I know how much you love your naps—I didn’t want to interrupt.”

As if to rub it in, Sarah clicked her EarCuff, illuminating her NetScreen. Michael’s message, We will win, hovered before them. A thrill of happiness warmed his chest to see that she’d saved it there. He smiled, more than a little embarrassed.

“Real sweet.” Bryson leaned back, eyeing Michael. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t slept in, oh, about three weeks—which I blame you for, by the way.”

“Blame accepted.” Michael knew his friend was joking—mostly—but he still felt bad. Bryson might have never said something so simple and yet so perfectly true. The nausea from the roller-coaster driving suddenly shot up a few notches. “Oh, man,” he groaned. “Sir? Uh…Gerard? Could we pull over a second? I’m not feeling so well.”

“Turn toward Bryson,” Sarah said, inching away from Michael. She rolled down the window. “Does that help?”

But her dad had already slowed—the sudden braking sending Michael’s whirling stomach up another notch—and was pulling into a little patch of dirt on the side of the narrow road.

“There you go, son,” the man announced. He seemed familiar enough with the maneuver that Michael was sure it wasn’t the first time he’d driven someone to the brink of losing their lunch. “But hurry—we’re already late.”

Sarah’s mom smacked her husband on the arm lightly. “Have a heart, honey. For heaven’s sake. No one likes to throw up.”

Michael was already climbing over Sarah. He opened the door and jumped out of the car before she could complain. His horrible prison breakfast was coming up, and there was no stopping it. He found the closest bush and gave it a very unpleasant surprise.

2

“Ah, man, I think there’s something on your shirt,” Bryson said a few minutes later. They were back on the road and Gerard had resumed practicing his racing skills.