The Collective

Chapter Thirty-Two

     I rarely wanted to eat a salad. Life was too short to be on a diet all the time. I believed in moderation. If you wanted the cake, eat a piece of cake. But after two weeks of fast food and greasy diners, I was dying for a salad.

     Max didn't seem to care. He tucked in to what had to be his eighth taco in the last hour. He held out the fried cinnamon swirls.

     I waved them off. "Where are we going?" We'd been driving in a giant loop for two weeks. I'd seen more of the United States than I had in my entire life.

     "Nowhere. I told you, the more we move, the safer you are. You faking your death only works if you actually stay dead."

     "We can dye my hair. We can go to Alaska or disappear into Yellowstone."

     "They'll find us in Yellowstone. Cora has a thing for wolves." He flicked on the radio. It was a news report about a cyberattack in the Netherlands. Their infrastructure was severely compromised.

     Max switched off the radio, eyes widening. "Alaska's good. Let's go to Alaska." He veered across four lanes of traffic, pulling onto the exit.

     "Hey, I was listening to that!"

     He shoved my hand away from the dial. "Let's talk. So, where'd you grow up?"

     "Max," I snapped.

     "We need snacks. You want some snacks?" He haphazardly parked the car in front of a convenience store. He shoved me a baseball cap and a flannel.

     I pulled them on, rushing ahead of him. They had a fruit stand. It was a little smooshed, and leaking juice, but still. Not a French fry.

     "Oh, shit."

     I followed Max's line of sight. A TV sat in the corner, a news report flashing on screen. I stepped closer. Ethan's picture was up there, with wanted printed underneath it. Apparently, he was at large for crimes committed in the Netherlands, China, and Madagascar, of all places. He was accused of releasing a virus in Florida and tampering with this year's flu vaccination.

     Max dragged me back. I jerked out of his grasp. Regan appeared on screen, talking about how much she loved him and how she never thought he could do these things and he was just heartbroken over the death of his fiancé. She was pleading with him to turn himself in.

     "Annie! Hey, stop. Please. Stop. This isn't going to help anyone." He shoved a wipe in my hands.

     Peach and plum carcasses dripped through my fingers. I savagely wiped my hands clean. How dare she. He wouldn't do those things. He was a good person, no matter what he thought.

     Max reached towards me.

     I shoved him away. "Don't. Don't you dare. This is all your fault." I stalked towards the parking lot.

     He checked out quickly, running after me. I didn't stop when I got to the car. I strode up to the intersection, punching the button for the crosswalk. It didn't work. I hit it harder, growling.

     Max caught up to me at the light. "Hey! You can't do that."

     "Why?! Because my life is in danger?! Because I might die? Who cares?! I'm already dead." I stopped in the middle of the street, ignoring all the angry humans. "Why would he do those things?"

     Max jerked me out of the path of a red convertible. "I told you, Ethan's been through a lot. Almost losing you mighta just pushed him over the edge."

     I glared at him. He didn't really believe Ethan would do those things... Nope, he really did.

     He picked on a hang nail. "I'll reach out to some of my old contacts, and see if they've heard anything from him, okay? Can we go back to the car now?"