And just like with his other friends, he’d dragged her into the whole mess. He had to know if she was okay. It might seem like a small thing to a lot of people, but it was something he could hold on to, like the Hallowed Ravine. Another specific goal.

His eyes snapped open.

“Hey, guys,” he said. The others quieted, turned their attention to him. “I have a request and it’s nonnegotiable. I really mean it. There’s something I have to do, and if I have to branch out on my own to do it, I will.”

“How about you tell us what it is before you make a bunch of lame threats,” Bryson responded. “When’s the last time we said no to you about anything?”

“Sorry,” Michael said a little sheepishly. “It’s more for you, Helga. You’re not going to like this.”

“What is it?” his nanny asked, eyebrows raised.

Michael let out the breath he’d been holding. “I know we’ve got some really important things to take care of, but we need to find Gabby and make sure she’s okay. Based on how everything’s been going, I have a really strong feeling that she’s not.”

5

A few hours later, they were well out of the mountains and on a freeway heading toward Atlanta, where Helga said they had an airplane waiting to take them north to D.C., the location of the Latvian embassy.

Throughout the entire drive, he’d tried and tried to make a connection with Gabby. He sent out dangler messages for her in several places, but she still hadn’t responded. The universal Net signal had been spotty up in the mountains, so at first he was hoping that had been the problem. But now that they were back in civilization, he was beginning to worry. All he could think of was that cop hitting Gabby with the nightstick. If she was dead…

He barely knew the girl. But he felt a debt to Jackson Porter. It was bad enough that he’d stolen the guy’s body. If he’d caused Jackson’s girlfriend to die as well, Michael didn’t know if he could handle the guilt.

“Anyone else starving?” Bryson asked. No one had spoken in at least an hour, and it snapped Michael out of his dark cloud. He’d long ago put away his NetScreen, and now realized he was hungry.

“I am,” Sarah replied.

Michael nodded absently.

“Find us a restaurant,” Helga said to Walter up in the front seat. “Preferably one with fried chicken.”

Michael laughed, the most random laugh that had ever escaped him. Maybe he was going cuckoo from the stress.

“You have a problem with fried chicken?” Helga asked him.

“Not at all. I’m just in a weird mood.”