“Relax,” she said, leaning my seat back before taking the driver’s seat.

I felt comfortable and closed my eyes, my wounds still screaming but not quite as loudly as before. Maggie had given me ibuprofen before we left her house, even though I asked for something stronger. She said the only anesthetics they had were for animals, and she wouldn’t know the right dosage.

“Whatever you’d give a rhino,” I’d said.

She’d shot me a disgusted look. “I don’t want to kill you, Jordan.”

Fair enough.

Now she was laying a cold, wet cloth over my eyes and forehead and telling me to get some sleep.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take me to find Mom,” Maggie said. “I don’t know which farm she’s at. In the meantime, your body needs to shut down and give yourself a chance to heal.”

She kissed my hot cheek, which instantly grew hotter.

“You rock,” I muttered, then added: “Just go fast, so you can get there before they find us. And don’t draw attention to us.”

“Right,” she said. “Drive like a speed demon inconspicuously.”

“You got it,” I said, closing my eyes. I was quiet for maybe five seconds, during which Maggie shifted from reverse to drive and hit the pedal hard enough to lurch us forward. “Maybe those guys at the plant aren’t FBI.”

“What?”

“The ‘Matrix’ guys.”

“What about their Glocks?” She sounded like she was humoring me.

“I know,” I said, “but why should I assume they’re official anything when I’m not sure that scientist even is human? Or was.”

“Right. He’s probably a dead cyborg by now.”

I squinted at her, hoping she’d notice my displeasure at her tone, but her eyes were fixed on the dark road, as well they should’ve been.

“The scientist didn’t look like he should’ve been alive in the first place,” I continued. “Parts of his skull were visible. At first I thought he was a burn victim, but then I wondered whether he was part of a crazy experiment. He had no lips, and his teeth were completely exposed, like Two-Face in The Dark Knight.”

“Yeah,” Maggie said, “we watched that movie together. But I’m sure it’s more likely that you actually saw someone who could’ve stepped out of a DC Comics movie than you imagined him in a delirious state after already having dreamed about him.”

“I’m not delirious, and I didn’t have a fever before I was attacked by these guys,” I said. “Yes, it’s weird that I dreamed about him before I saw him, but he was alive, and I’ve got the wounds to prove it.”

“Maybe it was déjà vu,” she said flatly, the car turning a sharp corner.

“No, it wasn’t déjà vu,” I replied impatiently, flipping over the wet cloth to place the cool side on my forehead. “I didn’t feel like I’d been there before. I just recognized the guy—from my dreams.”

“Maybe you recognized him as the flaming corpse you chased into the woods.”