“The brain stem is right here,” I said, pointing to an undefined area inside the dog’s skull. “You don’t see it because X-rays don’t show soft tissues like muscles or the brain.”

Jordan glanced at me, then back at the screen. “We’re sure this is what’s making the animals so aggressive?”

“It’s the most logical explanation—and the only one we’ve got so far. The animals aren’t rabid and show no sign of disease.”

He pursed his lips. “So our most logical explanation is that Ishango, a computer, has unleashed an army of tiny bots to take over animals’ brains so they can attack humans.”

“Yes,” I said. “That is where we are.”

“But you still think I’m crazy because I said I was attacked by a scientist with a sword arm.”

“Okay, okay. I may be softening my position,” I admitted. “Can we move on from that?”

A satisfied little smile passed over Jordan’s face, then dissipated.

“That document about the implants was dated more than ten years ago,” he said. “Ishango must have made progress since then. If she was doing that a decade ago, what else is she doing—and controlling—right now?”

CHAPTER 40

Jordan

WE GOT THE hell out of Maggie’s place, with her driving quickly but not conspicuously so. We would’ve loved Maggie’s mom’s help, but there was no point in waiting around to see whether she or some thugs from the plant would appear first. Maggie thought we should seek her out in the Woodside neighborhood with her thrush-ridden foal. I wanted Tico. I wanted my team together. These goals weren’t mutually exclusive.

With cell service still out, we couldn’t call anyone anyway, so Maggie agreed to swing by Tico’s house first, which wasn’t too far from my burnt-out husk of a former home.

“I suppose there’s no point in telling the police,” I said.

“They think I’m crazy already,” Maggie said.

“And the military is an obvious no.”

“Right. Plus, they’re the ones who stuck these implants into our arms.”

“Not in your brains, though,” I said.

“No, these are different … but still creepy.”

“I don’t think everyone from the military is in on it, by the way,” I said. “Like my friend from the camp, Ears—he seemed okay last time I saw him. And when I was out on the trail the other day, I saw an army squad destroy an aggressive coyote. When I say destroy, I mean incinerate to ashes, like a mobile cremation. They wanted no remnant of that animal—or anything inside it—to remain.”

“Huh,” Maggie said, turning the car onto Tico’s street.

“Would those soldiers have been doing Ishango’s bidding? Or might they be a rogue group battling the supercomputer’s animal army?” I wondered aloud.

“If so, we need to identify who’s in the resistance. We may need them soon.”

Maggie pulled up in front of Tico’s house, a lime-green wooden structure that looked extra bright now, even at twilight. Did the army paint his place, too? His front lawn looked lush, and all the orange tiger lilies and pale pink roses in front of the house were in full bloom. Something about this tableau struck me as strange, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.