“But who programmed her?”

“Honestly, Jordan,” I said, using my forefinger to wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead, “I’m not sure anyone did. This may be the result of AI run amok.”

Suddenly the back window was blasted to smithereens. We reflexively ducked, and the car swerved till I grabbed the wheel to straighten us out. I looked back, expecting to see army vehicles, but instead it was a police car with lights on and siren blaring.

“Hold the wheel,” Jordan said, and as I complied, he reached under the driver’s seat with his left hand, pulled out a small box, and swung it onto my lap. As he took the wheel again, I unlatched the box and pulled up the lid to reveal a gun, though it was more like a cannon. “It’s a Magnum,” he said. “Probably loaded. Be careful, because that thing hurts to fire. I mean, look at the bullets.”

“This is huge,” I shouted over the siren as I lifted the gun. “And heavy. But who am I supposed to shoot? The police? We don’t know if they’re in on this.”

“I don’t think they are, but someone just shot out our back window and meant to hit more than glass. And they’re on our ass now, probably reloading.”

I looked back again, and the cop car was gaining ground, though I couldn’t see what was going on inside. It occurred to me that a bullet could hit me in the face at any moment. I opened the gun’s chamber—yep, fully loaded.

“Here’s the case against the cops being involved,” Jordan said. “An article I read about conspiracy theories said the main reason they’re almost always fake is that people talk. A conspiracy has to be a small group. I mean, even my dad told me about Ishango. Loose lips screw things up.”

“That’s not the saying.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t know. Gimme a sec,” I said as I turned back to brace the gun atop my car seat while aiming it out the now-nonexistent rear window. “If we believe Ishango and Alpha, this has been going on for decades.”

“Right,” Jordan said. “You might want to put a bullet in their engine, by the way. Or their tires.”

“Shouldn’t I just aim for the driver?”

He cocked his eyebrows at me. “Are you ready for that?”

I shook my head.

We sped along in the darkness. Jordan wasn’t shaking the cop car but also wasn’t losing ground.

“What do we tell my mom?” I asked.

“The truth,” Jordan said. “Not sure we have a choice at this point.”

“My mom will think I’m a crazy conspiracy nut.”

“Look, presumably she just stitched up Troy, who was attacked by possessed raccoons and was taken to her by Tico, who got slashed by Mr. Sword Arm. So she may be inclined to believe you at this point.”

“Right. Jeez,” I said, and squinted in the reflection of the cop car’s brights, which had been switched on as its driver gunned it and gained on us fast. “It’s making a move. Looks like he’s gonna ram us.”