Just ahead, the taillights of the SUV came into view through the cracked windshield. They were also flying down the road at incredible speed, but he was easily gaining on them.

Lennon let up on the gas just a little as they drew closer. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Keep following them? Try to run them off the road? That option seemed too likely to possibly hurt Maisie.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw headlights coming toward them from the left.

“Oh, shit,” Queso said.

It was another SUV, barreling through the grass as it headed for them. Queso pulled his gun out.

The SUV wasn’t slowing as it got closer. Lennon let up off the gas, just a little more.

A man hung out the passenger’s-side window with a gun.

“Duck!” Lennon yelled, reaching over and pushing Queso’s head closer to the dash. He turned the wheel, hard, to the right.

Bullets sprayed across the van, and he tensed, bracing to be hit, but they stopped as soon as they started. Queso looked up. His mask had slipped down to his chin, revealing his face. He yanked it off.

Lennon straightened, squinting to see through the cracks in the windshield. The two SUVs turned a corner and disappeared into the dark.

—

Lennon drove the van back to where they’d left the truck. Their headlights caught Beto and Anna standing on the side of the road, and he pulled the van to a stop next to them.

They did a double-take when they saw Queso without his mask. Lennon glanced over at him as he climbed out, his face illuminated by the lights from the van.

He was as young as he’d seemed, maybe the same age as Lennon. He had the sort of face that his mom jokingly called a “favor face.” The guy you send to ask for a favor, because everyone likes his face.

Beto’s shirt had a large, dark spot on it at his waist, and blood was drying on his hands.

“Are you okay?” Lennon asked.

“Yeah, just a scratch,” Beto said.

“Ivy?” he asked, even though he already knew.

Anna shook her head, her eyes red. “She’s gone. We put her in the truck.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well, no time to sit around crying about it,” Anna said, clearly trying to sound tough, and failing a bit when her voice shook. She was holding Ivy’s shoulder holsters in her hands, and she passed the one with smoke bombs to Queso. “Here. You can have it.”

He took it slowly. “I can?”

“You only have one gun. It makes me nervous. Plus, I noticed you keep staring at those.”

“Thank you.” He took one off the holster and turned it around in his hand. “I’ve been curious how they work.”

“Just don’t press that button unless you want a mess,” Anna said, and then returned her attention to Lennon. “I see you didn’t track down Maisie.”