Our beige Ford Contour barrels down the highway with Nine behind the wheel. I stare at the long rows of corn in the fields and I try to picture what they’d look like from space. I can’t stop thinking about our ship sitting somewhere in the New Mexico desert. After all these years, after all the running and hiding and training, everything is nearly in place. Members of the Garde have developed their Legacies and are coming together, Setrákus Ra came to Earth to fight, and when it’s all over we will have a ship to fly us back to Lorien.

‘I’m bored,’ Nine says. ‘Tell me a story. Tell me about Sarah.

How hot is she, anyway?’

‘Forget it. She’s out of your league,’ I say.

‘Four, if you could get anywhere near her, I’m pretty sure I’d have a shot. Especially in this car.’

This car. Nine let me wallow pitifully when I first saw it sitting there. I mean, given everything else that I’d seen about how Sandor and Nine had lived, it was understandable that I pictured our ride as something with a whole lot more bling to it. Turns out, looks can be deceiving. The Ford was just hiding its assets.

From the outside, the car does look like something most likely found on cinderblocks. But inside it has to be the most technologically advanced thing I’ve ever seen. I feel like James Bond. There’s a radar detector, a laser jammer, and bulletproof tinted windows. When Nine wants a break from driving, the car does the driving for him. With the push of a button, a gun turret with large barrels pops out of the hood. This, of course, is controlled with the steering wheel. Nine demonstrated all of it on a lonely stretch of highway in southern Illinois, squeezing off a few rounds at an abandoned barn. My firsthand experience of cars was limited to the beat-up pickups and other throwaways Henri found for us – the kinds of cars we would have no problem ditching at the last minute. He never would have gone for something like this. There would be too much evidence if it got left behind. It just goes to show again how different each Cêpan was.

Nine takes his hands off the wheel and puts them together like he’s praying. ‘Please, I’m begging you. Just tell me again what she looks like. After this many hours of corn, I would do anything for something pretty to think about.’

I look back at the fields, lips pressed together. ‘No way.’

‘Dude, you’d think she hadn’t, you know, turned your ass in to the police. Come on! Why are you so protective?’