“Oh god,” she said, breathing heavily.

“Who was that? Are you okay?” Anna asked.

Lennon glanced back to see Maisie sitting up, pushing her hair out of her face. She shot him a weak smile.

“I’m fine. Some guys looking for us. They were talking about catching the southerners. Declan left me tied up there.”

“He what?” Lennon tightened his hands on the steering wheel.

“It’s fine, because he said he’d come back for me.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “I managed to get free right before those guys got me.”

“That’s a relief,” Anna said.

Maisie leaned forward between Lennon and Queso, doing a double-take when she saw the latter. “Hey! It’s your face.”

“A very nice face,” Anna whispered.

Lennon tried to pretend he didn’t feel a twinge of jealousy when Maisie looked back at Anna, the two of them sharing an expression he couldn’t see.

“Did we get a name, too?” she asked.

“No,” Queso said.

“I mean, if my nickname was cheese, I’d probably be fine with keeping it too,” Anna said.

“Wait, where is Beto?” Maisie said, a hint of panic in her voice. “He didn’t…?”

“No,” Anna said quickly. “He’s fine. He’s with the shipment. Ivy didn’t…Ivy didn’t make it, though.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Anna cleared her throat. “Yeah, thanks.”

Lennon glanced in his rearview mirror, but he didn’t see anyone following. No more birds, as far as he could tell.

“They were looking for us?” he asked Maisie.

“That’s what they said.”

“They would have seen us crossing that field,” Queso said. “The birds have cameras.” He sighed. “I picked that field instead of the road because it doesn’t have cameras. So much for that plan.”

“You really have no idea who they are?” Maisie asked. “You said the birds are messing with the Spencers, but does that mean they’re organized? Val said there was some mutiny here.”

“I don’t know how organized they are, but those damn birds keep popping up everywhere. And they definitely don’t like the Spencers, whoever they are.”

Anna kicked the back of Lennon’s seat. “Let’s get this idiot to the gate, and then we can all go home.”

Lennon tightened his fingers around the steering wheel. The clock on the dash said 6:45. A little over an hour to make it to the gate. He didn’t know if this feeling in the pit of his stomach was because he was nervous he wouldn’t make it, or because he was dreading what waited for him on the other side.

He wanted to see his family again. He really did. He wanted to have ice cream with Stella, and watch Caroline try not to look impressed when he told her about his solo skydiving landing. She didn’t approve of things that were “dangerous for no reason,” but she’d confessed once that she secretly dreamed about skydiving.

And he wanted to congratulate his dad, and tell his mom about the Vals and reassure her that no, he was not deeply traumatized. (She would not believe him. There was more therapy in his future.)