‘And she’s got long black hair, and she always looks like she’s pissed off –’

‘Have you ever noticed, there’s something kind of exciting when a girl is mad at you? ’ Nine muses, tapping his chin as if he were really giving it deep thought.

I suddenly feel guilty. I shouldn’t be talking like this, with Nine of all people. And I definitely shouldn’t be comparing Six and Sarah this way, as if it’s a competition – especially since they hate each other. Sarah hates Six because of everything I said about Six the night she turned me in, and Six hates Sarah because I risked our lives going to see her when Six needed my help. And because she thinks Sarah betrayed us. ‘I don’t feel right talking about Six. I think I’ll just let you meet her, come to your own conclusions.’

Nine shakes his head. ‘You are such a wuss, dude.’

For a while, we ride along in silence. Road signs announce where we are. I check the tablet again, grateful for Nine and Sandor’s love of electronics. If I couldn’t plug it into the car’s computer, I would have no way to see if the three Garde members have reappeared. I see the blips representing me and Nine in eastern Oklahoma; there’s still one in New Mexico, and a fourth is moving quickly north over the Atlantic Ocean. The other three showed up in England, and I still don’t know how they could have gotten there so quickly from India. I decide to give myself permission to check again in five or ten minutes.

I look out the window, examining the signs as they go by. We’re more than halfway to New Mexico when I notice the gas gauge is perilously close to EMPTY . I point to it and Nine pulls in to a truck stop. He asks me to open the glove compartment. Two rolls of hundred-dollar bills roll out and into my lap.

‘Damn,’ I say, catching them.

‘Let me have one of those, will ya?’ Nine asks.

I peel off a bill and hand it to him. He pops the gas tank and climbs out of the car. I put a few of the bills in my pocket and tuck the rest of it back in the glove compartment. Exhausted, I pull the lever to recline the seat, put my head back and close my eyes. Bernie Kosar leans forward and licks my cheek, making me chuckle. I am bone-weary tired, but I fight the sleep that tries to wash over me. I can’t deal with what comes with sleep. I’m sick of taking on Setrákus Ra in my dreams.