“Well, seeing my boyfriend attacked by a sword-armed freak and insane supercomputer had a way of opening my eyes.” I heard a muffled guffaw from the back seat. “Yes, I said ‘boyfriend,’ Jordan! Jesus!”

The smile left his face as he reached his hand between Mom and me to point out the windshield.

“We’re here,” he said.

CHAPTER 52

Jordan

ONCE AGAIN WE were ready to hike up Mount Hope. It was Maggie’s idea to return for the explosives—she thought if we could drop them down the construction hole that led to Ishango’s chamber, we could create an extinction event for that Bible-quoting computer bitch. I argued that the chances were slim to none that we’d ever again get that close to Ishango, with or without the explosives. Ishango was at war, and by now she no doubt had more security protecting her than the president of the United States.

Still, we’d be better off with the explosives than without them. I’d just have to rely upon my strategically enhanced mind to come up with something at whatever the right moment was.

After parking as close to the trail as possible, the three of us hiked toward the cliffs. I wanted to go alone, but Dr. Gooding insisted we stick together. I led the way.

We hadn’t been hiking long when Maggie whispered, “Stop.”

We froze, listening. The wind blew through the pines, and there was some rustling in the undergrowth.

“It could be another wild hog,” I whispered.

“Or nothing,” Maggie’s mom said.

I looked at Maggie, and our eyes locked. “If it’s something bad, we’ll just deal with it,” I said. “Let’s hurry in the meantime.”

We turned back to the trail. We were close.

“I just can’t believe that this is real,” Maggie’s mom said as she trudged up the trail. “I feel like I should be waking up from this any moment.”

“I feel that way all the time—and I really do have dreams: about Alpha, about the nuclear meltdown,” I said. “I don’t know whether they’re dreams or memories or something else triggered by the implant.”

“We think he’s still connected to Ishango in some way,” Maggie said.

Maggie’s mom looked at me as if for the first time. “Are you seeing visions or anything like that?”

“No,” I said, “I just know things, like how to fight in different ways. If a boxer showed up in front of me, I’d know how to box back without ever having taken a lesson. It’s weird.”

“Do you know other things, too?” Dr. Gooding asked. “Like biology or how to make an omelet?”

I smiled. “I already make a mean omelet. And I’ll know how to put this bomb together.”

The cliff tops came into view, and the trees and dirt gave way to a round outcrop of granite.

I located the Hogan Construction bag and picked it up gingerly. C4 was supposed to be stable if you dropped it—it was supposed to detonate only with a blasting cap or some other explosion—but I felt the weight of it in my hand and wasn’t taking any chances.