Doomed (26 page)

He smiles, just a little, but allows me to tug him toward
the van. We’re about to climb into the back when he speaks again. “I thought I could fix this.” His voice is low, so that only I can hear.

“Dude, no one can fix this. It’s not a reflection on you.”

“Yeah, but what’s the end point? If you can’t fix things, if you can’t win, why bother trying?”

Poor little Harvard-bound boy. He’s probably never done anything in his life without a plan and a clear understanding of how to get whatever it is he’s going after. No wonder this nightmare has thrown him for such a loop.

“ ‘Brick by brick, my citizens,’ ” I tell him. “Don’t worry so much. We’ll figure it out.”

He doesn’t answer for a long time, and when he does, it’s not what I expect. “Julius Caesar ended up getting knifed in the back by his best friend.”

“True,” I acknowledge. “But since he wasn’t the one who said the thing about the bricks anyway, why do you care?”

Theo looks at me. “Are you sure? I thought he was.”

“Nope. Hadrian said it.”

“You don’t have to look so smug.”

“Are you kidding me? For the first time ever, I know something you don’t. Let me wallow for a minute or ten.”

When Theo throws back his head and laughs, I know he’s going to be okay.

Now it’s just the rest of the world I have to worry about.

We find a cheap, and somewhat questionable, motel on the outskirts of town and Eli pulls into the registration area. We could afford better, for a little while anyway, but the last thing we need is to raise questions in a more family-oriented place. I grab my purse—and some of the guys’ cash—and go inside before either of them has a chance to say a thing. This is something I
can
do, and there’s been enough on this trip that I can’t, that I’m determined to take charge here.

I get the room without too much hassle—I’m thrilled that the guy behind the counter is still willing to take cash, though at a much-inflated rate—and we drive around to the back, where the motel map points us.

We all crawl out the front (Theo is completely paranoid about not letting anyone see our supplies) and pile upstairs, loaded down with our backpacks and a couple of bags of food and water. I open the door and reach to switch on the lights. They don’t go on, of course, but old habits die hard.

I turn to tell Theo that we need one of the lanterns, but he’s already got one in his hand. Eli’s carrying the other, so I guess that makes me the only stupid person. Big surprise.

“I get the shower first,” I say, trying not to look around the room too closely. The lantern doesn’t show much, but what I can see doesn’t inspire confidence.

“No problem. I want to bring up a few more things from the car, anyway.” Theo empties his backpack on the bed, and it’s nice to see him focused again. Back to normal.

I grab some clean clothes from the Walmart bag Theo brought up with him and head into the bathroom with one of the lanterns. The water is lukewarm, but it’s still the best shower I’ve ever had. I wash my hair twice with the hotel shampoo and conditioner, thrilled when the funky dye smell finally comes out, and then just stand under the spray and enjoy the feeling of being clean.

It’s only been three days, but I swear, it feels like forever. The only thing that gets me out from under the spray is the knowledge that Eli and Theo must want a shower just as badly.

When I’m done, I wash the clothes I wore today and wring them out before getting dressed in the gray yoga pants and the purple tank top Theo and Eli got me.

It’s then that I get the first real glimpse of myself in the mirror, without the cap, since I dyed my hair.

I barely recognize myself.

I reach a hand up, touch the dark brown locks that have fallen into my face. Honestly, it’s not bad looking, just different, but right now I’m not sure how much more different I can take. It’s hard to imagine that a couple of days ago my biggest problem was my mother forgetting my birthday. Now,
I’ve unleashed cyber-Armageddon, fled federal custody, faced down men with guns, nearly been caught by attack dogs, and am currently staying in a seedy motel with two guys I barely knew a few days ago, wearing a shirt that is way too skimpy for my taste.

Is it any wonder I’m having problems? I don’t think there’s much of the old Pandora left to recognize.

Eli knocks on the door. “Hey, Pandora, you okay in there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m coming out.” I gather my clothes so I can hang them in the closet to dry and then open the door.

Eli’s leaning against the doorjamb and he smiles when he sees me. “I knew you’d look good in that shirt.” My heart beats a little faster at the look in his eyes, and I can feel a blush creeping up my cheeks.

I don’t know what to say. How to act. I’ve only had one boyfriend before, and he never made me feel anything like the nervousness that comes over me when Eli traces a finger along one of my spaghetti straps.

I take a shaky breath, try to figure out what I want to do. Stand here and flirt with him or make a joke to diffuse the tension? It’s not like we don’t have other things to worry about right now, and this whole thing, whatever it is, seems like it has the potential to be a huge complication.

“Hey, Pandora,” Theo calls from his spot at the table near the door. “Where are those pictures your dad sent you?”

It’s the excuse I was looking for, and I cling to it like it’s a life raft and I’m drowning. “Here they are,” I say, ducking around Eli. I pull the photos out of the front pocket of my backpack and try to hand them to Theo. I don’t think I’m up
for looking at them right now, though I know we need to if we want to figure out where we’re supposed to go now that we’re in Albuquerque. Theo doesn’t take them, and when I drop them in front of him, he slides them back over to me. At first, I think he’s just not getting it, but the way he looks at me, kind of soft but also determined, tells me that he does. It doesn’t matter, though, because he’s not going to budge.

“Which is the fourth one? From the site.”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t going in order, so I didn’t pay much attention.”

“You need to figure it out. We have to assume that everything your father did was for a purpose. If we figure out what that reason is, we’ll be able to beat the game.”

“So what? Who cares if we win if there’s nothing left to save?”

I know he wants to argue with me, but I guess I look about as irrational as I feel, because he doesn’t say anything else. Just waits patiently as I pull out the photos and start to sort through them one more time.

I go slowly, focused on getting the order right so I don’t have to do this ever again.

It hurts to look at them, but I force myself to do it. It’s not like Theo has asked that much of me. I can put most of the pictures in the order they came in on the website, but I get stuck when I’m down to two spots—the fourth and seventh. “I don’t know which of these is the one we need.” I turn the last two photos so he can see them.

Theo looks at the photos for a minute, then asks, “Does it snow in Albuquerque?”

“Sometimes. Not very often, though.”

“And probably not this much, right?” He holds up a picture of my father and me building a snowman. We’re standing in front of a huge field with a WELCOME TO THE WILLOWS sign in front of it.

“So, we’re going to say that this is not the Albuquerque picture.” He puts it in the seventh spot, and we both stare at the only photo that’s left.

I’m about five, and I’m sitting on my dad’s shoulders. We’re standing in front of some strange piece of equipment that looks like it belongs in Area 51 rather than the middle of Albuquerque. But the thing is, the longer I stare at it the more I’m certain that I remember the day this picture was taken. When I saw it on the computer, I was struck by how happy my dad and I looked, but now that I’m studying it, I realize it was more than just keeping up appearances for the camera. We
were
happy that day. Very happy.

“This is Albuquerque,” I tell Theo, tapping the photo like it doesn’t hurt me just to touch it. “We drove up from Austin to visit his friend, Dr. Susan. She’s the one taking the picture.”

“Dr. Susan? She’s a doctor?”

“Not a medical one. She specializes in solar energy. That’s a solar cell behind us. It’s part of a solar array.”

“Do you remember Susan’s last name?”

“I don’t think I ever knew it. But I remember she was associated with the University of New Mexico. We went to her office there once.”

Theo reaches for his backpack, pulls out his laptop, and starts to open it. I can tell the exact second he remembers
that there’s no point. He puts the computer on the floor and then rests his head in his hands. “You know, we’d be done with this whole scavenger-hunt thing if we had access to Google.”

“I think he was counting on us
not
having that access.”

“I know, I know. So there has to be another way to figure this out. We just have to think outside the box.”

“We can’t call the university,” I tell him. “And we can’t afford to waste gas driving out there in case that’s a dead end.”

“It’s not a dead end, but I agree. That picture wasn’t taken on a college campus. So how do we—”

“You could read the name on the equipment,” Eli says from behind me. He’s dressed in only a towel, and as he braces a hand on the table on either side of me, he smells lightly of oranges. He points at the very bottom of the equipment, to the gray-on-gray lettering I hadn’t even noticed but now can’t believe I missed.

“Orinoco. But isn’t that just the brand name?” I ask.

“No,” Theo says. “He’s right. You said she was a research scientist. What if this was her baby? What if she works for Orinoco?”

“Are they a New Mexico company?”

“I have no idea. But I know how we can find out,” Eli says. He crosses to the nightstand, opens the top drawer, and pulls out a very battered phone book. “It turns out they do still make them.”

Within minutes, we’re all staring at an address for Orinoco Solar Energy.
Could it be this easy?
I wonder, as I copy down the address. And if it is, what are we supposed to get
out of it? I mean, what’s the point? I’m confused, but that could just be because I’m exhausted. If I don’t close my eyes soon, I’m going to drop where I stand.

Theo goes to take a shower, and Eli and I spread out dinner on the small dining table. We have crackers, the fresh cheese I bought today, honey, the pecans, bottled water, and peaches.

We also have a chocolate bar for dessert. I break it into three equal pieces and divvy them up on paper towels. Then I devour my piece.

Eli laughs and hands me his section. “If you like it that much, enjoy.”

I can feel myself blushing as I wonder if he thinks I’m a total pig. “No, it’s fine. I’ve just always liked to eat my dessert first.”

“Well, now you can eat mine first, too.” He breaks off a chunk, then taps my lips with it. “Open up.”

I laugh and let him feed me, closing the chocolate behind my lips. But it feels weird, especially when he runs his thumb over my mouth. I pull away, reach for the water and take a swig.

“Are you thirsty?” I ask, holding the bottle out to him.

“Sure.” He reaches for it, and his fingers brush against mine. I think he’s going to say something else, but Theo chooses that moment to walk out of the bathroom.

“We need to decide who’s sleeping first,” he says as he walks up to the table. He’s dressed in a T-shirt and athletic shorts that show off his huge biceps and supertoned legs.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bed as soon as
we eat,” Eli says right before he shoves a whole cheese-and-cracker sandwich in his mouth.

“That’s fine. I’ll stay awake and keep watch.”

“Watch? Over what?” I swear I spend half my time trying to keep up with Theo’s thought processes, and I fail every time.

“The van. This obviously isn’t a great hotel, and I’m afraid if we don’t keep an eye on the van, it won’t be there in the morning.”

“Are you kidding me? Look around, man.” Eli sweeps his arms out wide. “We’re practically the only people in this whole place.”

“That doesn’t mean people aren’t trolling.” Theo eyes him steadily, and I find myself wondering what he’s thinking. Eli’s easy to read—he wears his emotions close to the surface. But Theo, he’s harder. I never can tell what’s going on in that massive brain of his.

“Everything we currently own is in that van. We can’t afford to lose it, so we need to take three-hour shifts watching over it.”

I want to groan—just the idea of staying up another three hours makes my head throb. But at the same time, I think Theo might be right. Do I really believe anything’s going to happen? No, but I figure it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“I’ll take the first shift,” I volunteer, even as my stomach churns. I’m so tired that I’m nauseated, and I’m not sure how I’m going to last another three hours without sleep. I’ll have to, though.

“Don’t worry about it, Pandora.
I’ll
take the first shift. You
can do the second, and Eli will do the third.” Theo’s voice is as calm as always, but there’s an underlying steel to it that makes Eli stiffen. I’m afraid he might argue, but in the end he just shrugs.

“Sure, whatever. As long as I get some sleep beforehand.”

We finish dinner in silence. There doesn’t seem to be much else to say, after all.

As soon as the food is cleared away, Eli stretches out on the bed closest to the door, while I lie down on the other one and pull the covers over me.

The last thing I’m aware of is Theo fiddling with the radio, trying to find out something new. Something more. I fall asleep before he settles on a station.

I wake up shivering, curled into a ball with my arms wrapped around myself. I reach for the covers, but they’re not there—which I think is strange, at least until I roll over and realize that Eli is stretched out next to me, and has all the covers wrapped around himself.

I kick him, hard, and when he yelps, he loosens his grip on the blankets long enough for me to grab the covers and pull them back over me. I’m not ready to get up yet and am grateful I don’t have to. The sky outside the dusty motel window has barely begun to lighten, which means it’s still early. Thank God.