“Trust me,” Sam says. He drums his thumbs on the steering wheel and turns up the stereo. “I’ve never been so certain of anything in my entire life. And I get straight As, thank you very much.”

I think the Mogadorians are there waiting, in far greater numbers than what we faced in Florida, watching everything that might lead them to us. And if I’m going to be honest with myself, the only reason I’m willing to take this risk is because of the possibility of seeing Sarah.

I lean forward in the backseat and pat Sam’s right shoulder. “Sam, no matter what happens with that well and sundial, Six and I owe you big-time for what your dad did for us. But I really, really, really, really hope that it leads to a transmitter.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam says.

Highway lights come and go. Bernie Kosar’s floppy ears fall from the edge of the seat as he sleeps. I’m nervous about seeing Sarah. Nervous about being so close to Six.

“Hey, Sam?” I ask. “You wanna play a game?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What do you think Six’s Earth name is?”

Six whips her head over her shoulder, her raven hair slapping her right cheek, and she frowns at me in mock anger.

“She has one?” Sam laughs.

“Just guess,” I say.

“Yeah, Sam,” Six says. “Guess.”

“Um, Stryker?”

I laugh so hard Bernie Kosar jumps up to look out the nearest window.

“Stryker?” Six yells.

“Not Stryker, then? Okay, okay. I don’t know, something like Persia or Eagle or . . .”

“Eagle?” Six yells. “Why would I be Eagle?”

“You’re such a badass, you know.” Sam laughs. “I just figured you would be like a Starfire or like Thunder Clap or something really badassy.”

“Exactly!” I shout. “That’s totally what I thought, too!”

“So what is it then?” he asks.

Six crosses her arms and looks out the passenger-side window. “I’m not telling you until you make a real guess with a real girl’s name. Eagle, Sam? Give me some credit.”

“What? I’d name myself Eagle if I had the chance,” Sam says. “Eagle Goode. That sounds pretty awesome, right?”

“It sounds like a brand of cheese,” Six says. We all laugh at that.

“Okay. Uh, Rachel?” Sam says. “Britney?”

“Ew, yuck,” she says.

“Fine. Rebecca? Claire? Oh, I know. Beverly.”

“You are insane.” Six laughs. She punches Sam’s thigh, and he howls and rubs at it dramatically. He hits her back, a couple of knuckles on her left bicep, and she feigns severe pain.

“Her name is Maren Elizabeth,” I say. “Maren Elizabeth.”

“Aw, you gave it away,” he says. “I was going with Maren Elizabeth next.”

“Yeah, right,” she says.

“No, I was, I was! Maren Elizabeth’s pretty cool. Do you want us to start calling you that? Four goes by John, right Four?”