Chapter 38
After almost an hour on unpaved roads, we are back on smooth concrete. There is no one on the road; only our headlights and the stars lighting the path ahead.
Our pursuers are nowhere to be seen.
We seem to have lost them.
My thoughts have been everywhere. Worried about Frank, scared that Miyako might get taken as well, concerned about David.
I’m anxious about my sister, too. I wonder what she’ll think and how she’ll react to my disappearance. I hope she understands the message I sent her.
And I’m also terribly sad that we, in one way or another, chased Lucretia and Eduardo out of their home and that they have nothing to come back to.
Because of us . . .
And lastly, I’m terrified of Crazy Gro, fearful of what kind of strain these bacteria really are.
But among all these horrid thoughts, there is one that threads through them, one that is bright and clear and immensely positive. And this is—that I’m with Sam. And wherever we go, I’ll be all right, because we are together.
I keep secretly glancing at him. He has such a beautiful profile.
“Are you okay?” he asks, noticing my glances.
I blink a few times and turn my head to the road, trying hard to refocus. “Yeah, I—I am . . .”
Sam moves his hand from the steering wheel and puts it over mine, resting on my thigh.
I look down. My heartbeat instantly speeds up; I feel the drumming under my chest.
His hand is so much larger than mine that it covers it completely, and his fingers touch my thigh. I can feel them through my jeans, and—I’m going out of my mind.
I close my eyes.
Jane, pull yourself together.
Terrible things have happened. Dr. Rosenberg was killed because of this secret project, Frank was kidnapped and is in great danger, Lucretia and Eduardo’s beautiful home has been destroyed, and I only barely managed to escape. Twice. Thanks to a man I’ve only just met.
And—I’m in love with him.
I open my eyes again, looking down at his hand.
And I can’t even begin to explain why.
“You’ll be fine, Jane. You’ll be fine.” He softly squeezes my hand once, then releases it and returns his hand to the steering wheel.
He may have moved his hand away, but I’m all focused on the skin he just touched, the delicate remnants of sensations.
And then, inevitably, the shame comes. Because how can I possibly be thinking about this when my friends are in danger?
Selfish and horny, that’s what I am.
I lean on the headrest and look outside at the stars sprinkled on the dark blanket covering these dry plains and try not to think of anything.
After a few minutes, Sam says, “What I don’t get is, how did they find us?”
“Maybe . . . maybe they were not after us?”
Sam shakes his head, looking at the road. “No. You don’t invade a farm in La Rioja in the middle of the night, breaking through closed gates and burn the whole place down only hours after we get there!” Sam’s shaking his head. “No. Eduardo’s been here for several years and he’s had zero unwanted trespassers. This was about us, I’m sure. I just don’t know how they knew.”
Then he looks at me abruptly. “Do you have any electronics with you?”
I look back, lifting an eyebrow in surprise. “I didn’t exactly have a chance to pack, you know.”
He looks back at the road. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“My last piece of electronics took a flight to Mexico, I think.” I turn to look through the window, tracing the outlines of the mountains on the black horizon far away. Then I have a thought. “Did they—did they fly here, after they lost us in Boston?” I ask.
Sam takes a few moments before he answers. “I don’t think so. And that’s important.”
“Why?”
“It means they have resources here in Europe, and that they are ready and accessible on short notice. Means the organization is bigger than I thought.”
“But you don’t know who they are, right?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Who do you think they are?”
He shrugs. “Could be anyone. A mad cult, an extreme political group, terrorists. . . we’re not sure yet.”
“But what do they want? I still don’t understand the link between these people”—I wave my hand around—“and my research. What do they want with it?”
“My best guess is biological warfare.”
I slowly turn my head to him, my eyes wide open. “Warfare? Like, a biological weapon?”
He nods.
All of a sudden, my lungs lack air. I need a few moments to grasp the concept.
“The blood agar. The sealed lab. It was all there, I just didn’t see it,” I say quietly. “It makes sense . . .”
“Jane, you couldn’t have known. No one expects something like that in their everyday life.”
“But Dr. Rosenberg did. She found out, didn’t she? That’s why they killed her.”
After a moment, he says, “Yes, I believe so.”
And Frank found out too.
I close my eyes. “Sam, do you think—” My throat constricts.
“Francesco?”
I nod.
“I don’t know, Jane.” His voice is an octave deeper. “I think it all depends on how well he can trade.”
“Trade? I don’t—”
“They took him for a reason. It means they want something from him. He needs to be able to tell them something, but not everything. Just enough for them to keep him alive.”
“Until?”
“Until a rescue.”
“What rescue?” I turn my body all the way to face him. “Sam, is there a rescue being planned for him? Do you know something?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t have any details on a rescue plan, but that would be the standard protocol.”
“Whose standard protocol?”
He looks at me. “Sentinel.”
“Should I know wha—”
“No. And I’m not at liberty to say anything more. You’re just gonna have to trust me.”
I look back to the road, my thoughts tumbling in confusion, fear, and dread. But underneath, hidden under these layers, is a tiny shred of hope.
Frank might be saved. He might live. There’s hope.
My shoulders relax just slightly. Then a thought comes, a sharp dagger cutting though the soft net I’ve just created. “Why was there no rescue for Dr. Rosenberg?”
“She wasn’t captured. She was . . . eliminated.”
I shudder involuntarily.
“Why?” I ask after a few moments.
“I don’t know. I reckon she tried to stop them. She might have threatened to take it public.”
“Sounds brave,” I say quietly.
“True as that may be, it was her undoing. She misjudged the whole situation, but as I said before”—he looks at me for a second—“nobody is really ready for this kind of scenario. No one is ready for that. And she wasn’t either.”
I look through the window again.
Everything feels surreal. Everything feels untrue—a movie script I got cast for although I didn’t even audition.
I glance sideways at Sam. Including this unbelievably gorgeous man sitting next to me.
In no other scenario would a man like that be sitting next to a woman like me. But it’s his job to protect me.
And so here he is.
“Get some sleep, Jane. There’s a long road ahead of us,” he says, his voice deep and rumbly.
I don’t think I can sleep after all that has happened, but my eyes automatically start to close, as if Sam pressed a button.
“Where are we going?” I say, blinking a few times, trying to stay awake.
“You’ll see . . .” His voice is warm and comforting.
And then my eyes close. I drift to sleep, wondering where is he taking me next.