He put his binoculars up once more just in time to see that the two helicopters on either side of the motorcade seemed to have lost power, as did the SUV’s flanking the armored car’s front and rear, and every other vehicle on the road. The helicopters floated harmlessly to the ground, but the armored car sped up just as its driver and passenger either jumped or were flung from the vehicle. Then, it veered to the left and continued speeding into the desert toward the mountains.

“Follow it,” said Cora.

Kaveh didn’t move, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on his binoculars.

“Kaveh!”

“Okay!” he said, putting the car into gear. He raced down the hill, across the open road, turning onto the road the motorcade had been on before the armored car made its mysterious detour into the desert. He put the Land Rover into four-wheel drive and followed, checking to see if there was anyone else, human or alien, on their tail. The sun had almost completely set, and while the Gadsden Liners and the crowd that had gathered were well out of sight, the military caravan was not, and as best as he could tell, none of their equipment was working, indubitably the work of alien magic. Speeding through the desert, the brush of the untamed wastes scraping against the bottom of his car and a plume of dust spewing up in his wake, he had a suspicion that the same fate was to befall his Land Rover.

Almost the second he had that thought, it did, and the car rolled to a placid stop.

“Shit,” he said, but inwardly, he was relieved. Of course he was worried about the situation, but whatever Ampersand was planning on doing with Obelus’s body, the body that was responsible for a minimum of four human disintegrations, he had a feeling that neither he nor Cora could influence what was about to happen, and to run toward it was suicide.

But run toward it was exactly what Cora was already doing, out of the Land Rover before he could say anything, running toward the cloud of sand churned up by the armored car.

“Cora!” he bellowed, hopping out of the Land Rover. She was already in a sprint, running into the darkness. He knew he couldn’t convince her to stop, so what else was there to do but follow her?

Perhaps it was desperation that fueled her, because he was not able to keep up. He jogged on and off for about five minutes before he saw that the armored car was stopped not far ahead. The sun had by now completely set, the sky now a cerulean rimmed with pink that was darkening by the second. The back of the armored car was hanging open. He couldn’t see inside it, but he could imagine what was in there. An empty shell that, if inhabited, became Death, Destroyer of Worlds.