Chapter Eighty-Two
Bree
After the eruption of shouting that had silenced Nathan the first time, I was more determined than ever to control my fear. I concentrated on my breathing and counting long, deep breaths in and out. It was working until Nathan opened his mouth again.
Who was Javier?
I had never heard of Nathan talk about anyone by that name, and here he was empathizing with the guards over something Javier had done. And the guards believed him.
They started bickering amongst themselves, an argument that quickly spun out of control. Soon they were reminding each other of awful childhood pranks they had pulled on each other. And the entire time, the driver kept ramming on the gas pedal and then letting off as he argued with his cousin.
I hung on and let the bickering wash over me. The only thing I couldn’t let go of, though, was Nathan’s familiarity with this man named Javier.
My skin crawled. Was Javier the one that had caught me outside the van? He had called me Nathan’s lucky charm. It made it seem even more likely that the two had been gambling buddies.
No. That wasn’t right, I told myself. This was all just part of the plan. We had tried for hours to come up with a way to sow the seeds of dissent between our guards and the comment about Javier had worked perfectly. Maybe it was just something Nathan had overheard, remembered, and used to his advantage.
Then he told a funny story about some outrageous bet Javier had made. It seemed so outlandish but true that my head spun.
It was possible that not only had Nathan known this Javier well, but that he had regained his memory completely.
The other interruption to my spinning thoughts and the cousins’ arguing was a phone call. The passenger-side guard picked up his phone and had a hushed, monosyllabic conversation with whomever was on the other end.
“Yes. Okay. Yes. No. Not yet. Yes.” He hung up the phone and didn’t say anything else.
“Really? You’re not going to tell me? I’m the driver,” he cousin roared.
“You won’t believe me anyway,” the other cousin retorted. “Since you won’t believe I didn’t have anything to do with Javier’s bet. Do you really think I could take home a slice of winnings and not have my wife find out? Call her.”
“You have to tell me. We’re not just out here driving around for fun.”
“Fine. There’s been a change in plans.” The passenger-side guard hesitated again. “I’ll tell you where to go when we come to it.”
“Tell me now or you’re walking,” his cousin snapped.
“It’s Plan B. Remember Plan B?”
The driver slapped the steering wheel. “There was no Plan B and if there is a Plan B now you better tell me about it.”
“We’re not heading for the bunker anymore.”
I held my breath. Was it good news or a death sentence? I couldn’t tell and suddenly all my concentrated effort on being brave flew out the window. I shivered and bit my lip, hoping he would say more.
“They’re not going to the bunker anymore either,” the passenger-side guard said.
“Am I turning around? Is there a new location? Why can’t you just tell me? This is just like you. That’s why I know you helped Javier set me up. You love just seeing me squirm,” the driver shouted.
“I didn’t set you up. I didn’t make any money off your loss. I can’t believe you don’t believe me,” his cousin spat back.
“Tell me now or walk,” the driver said.
“We’re to execute them en route then return to the warehouse,” the passenger-side guard said.
They both fell silent, acknowledging that fact that Nathan and I had clearly heard what they had said. In the awkward quiet, I crawled across the van and threw myself against Nathan’s side. The driver switched on the radio and neither guard said anything more.
There wouldn’t be any transfer to an armored car. We wouldn’t be able to use the guard’s argument as the perfect distraction to make our break for it. We were riding along until they picked out the right dusty ditch to leave our bodies in. Then they would drive off and leave us under the blazing desert sun.
I cowered against Nathan’s side and pretended I was crying. Then I wriggled close enough to whisper in his ear.
“We’re still sticking to the plan, right?” I asked Nathan.
“What? Didn’t you hear them?” He whispered low enough that we couldn’t be heard over the radio.
“They’ll have to get us out of the van sometime. What else can we do?” I asked him.
Nathan was quiet. I could feel him trying to come up with something to say, but he had nothing. We had no other choice. Either the plan worked or we didn’t make it away alive.
“How come you sound so calm?” Nathan asked me. I could tell even through our black hoods that he was smiling.
“What else am I going to do? Sit in the corner and cry?” I asked.
I felt his silent chuckle. “So, what do you suggest?”
“I think the plan remains the same. They’re poised to fight again any second. We stick to the plan,” I said.
Nathan hesitated. “We have to get them out of the van. Then we have to get loose. This isn’t anything like what we talked about.”
I shrugged against his arm. “Close enough. We can do it.”
Nathan shook his head. “It’s too reckless. I’m glad that you aren’t feeling scared but bravado will only get us killed quicker.”
“Fine,” I hissed. “What do you suggest we do?”
I heard Nathan’s teeth grind. “We stick to the plan. But you have to relax. Waiting for the right moment is the hardest part. It has to unfold at its own pace. If we try to force it, we could ruin the only chance we have.”
I nodded, rubbing my cheek against his shoulder so he felt my agreement. Then I sat back and struggled to wait for our one and only chance.