“This is not a quarantine,” he said. “Just maintenance.”

“Then why are we trapped in this town and not even able to get out for a medical emergency? You know the bridge on the other side of town is out, and now you’re not letting me pass here. Whose decision was it to block us in like this?”

“I assure you this road is in need of repair,” he said as if bored. “Now, please turn around and head back to town. I’m sure your friend will be all right soon.”

Now this guy was pissing me off. “On what basis are you making that diagnosis? Where did you get your medical training? He’s been stabbed. Do you usually recommend Tylenol or ibuprofen for that?”

The soldier scrunched up his face like Tom in a Tom and Jerry cartoon after Jerry has made him hit himself in the face with a frying pan. “If he was stabbed, then this is a matter for the police.”

“Yeah? Well, what does the ‘P’ on your insignia stand for? Pus—?”

“That’s not our jurisdiction, ma’am,” he said, cutting me off before I got into real trouble.

“‘Ma’am?’ I’m sixteen! So tell me, sir, which police officers can stitch up stab wounds, since you, with all your professed medical expertise, cannot?”

“Look, young lady, I’m not appreciating your tone here, and I must return to my duties. Have a good evening.”

“Morning.”

He started to step away, shook his head, and returned.

“How did he get stabbed?”

“I don’t know! He’s not coherent!” I burst out, jolting Jordan awake.

“Wha’ …?” Jordan said in a daze.

“It’s nothing,” I whispered to him, patting his chest and putting the displaced cloth back over his eyes. “Go back to sleep.” I felt him relax again.

“The police in town are all trained in first aid,” the soldier said. “And that’s where I’m going to have to send you now. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Good luck with your friend.” He walked away.

“And if I needed to get to the giant military hospital that’s just up the road?” I called out the window.

“The road is impassable,” he said over his shoulder, not breaking stride.

As I watched him return to his soldier buddies, no doubt telling them all about the pain-in-the-ass girl he just encountered, I made little pew pew sounds with my mouth. That was me shooting them all with laser guns.

“This,” I said, “is bullshit.” And I jammed the car into gear, slammed my foot down on the gas, and, for the first and probably last time in my life, made my tires squeal as I peeled the hell out of there. There was a little room on the left shoulder, where the embankment was relatively level, so I gunned it around the truck, prompting my new soldier friend and his pals to scatter as I passed them.

“Hey!” I heard as I veered back onto the road and floored it.

I weaved through the semis and more army trucks parked on the road and in the shoulder, and I braced myself for gunshots. Any second now, the rear window would shatter—that’s what happened in such situations, right? But, no, I heard and saw nothing behind me, and the road ahead was clear as I sped into the early-morning mist.