Arena Three

“Stephan,” Bree snaps at him. Then she looks at each of us in turn. “Can we all please stop arguing? It’s not doing any good. We’re all in this together so we may as well start acting like friends.”

I fold my arms and stare Stephan down. He gives me a fake smile, one that says we will probably never be friends. But if he knows how to get us bikes, and as long as I’m in possession of his gun, then we’re sticking together.

“Fine,” I say, relenting. “Let’s get some sleep. We leave for the Mississippi in the morning.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Ta-da,” Stephan says, gesturing to the open garage door.

I peer into the gloom. Inside I see several old vintage motor bikes and choppers, covered in thick dust and cobwebs. They look like they could have belonged to a gang of Hells Angels once upon a time. They’ve certainly seen better days.

“And these things work?” I ask, incredulous.

I can’t help thinking that Stephan’s led us on a wild goose chase.

“Oh, they work,” he replies.

He walks into the garage and toward one of the choppers, then retrieves the keys from inside its seat compartment. He twirls the keys around his fingers, showing off. I roll my eyes.

“Hurry up, please,” I say. Stephan’s really testing my patience.

He grins and finally puts a key in the ignition. The bike thrums to life, its engine roaring and throwing out fumes.

“I don’t believe it,” I say, pacing forward and drawing up beside the bike. “How much gas is in this thing?”

“It has a full tank,” Stephan replies. “They all do. I’ve been siphoning gas for years, filling them all up, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case I ever found somewhere to go.”

For the first time since I’ve met him, I feel bad for Stephan. He’s a survivor like me, who’s done morally questionable things to survive just like I have. Making Molly a hostage was just a desperate act on his part. Can I really say I wouldn’t have done the same if our positions were reversed?

“Thanks,” I say, trying to sound sincere. “We’ll get to the Mississippi in no time at all with these. Come on, guys, grab a bike.”

Everyone enters the dark garage and chooses a vehicle. I make sure my bike has a sidecar so that Bree can travel with me with Penelope on her lap. It makes me feel better to have her close. Charlie chooses to ride in a sidecar with Ben. As Ryan attempts to mount a bike, I rest my hand gently on his arm.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to be in control of a vehicle after what happened yesterday.”

“I’m not an invalid, Brooke,” he replies. “I’m fine now.”

“I know, I’m just being cautious. And anyway, you should be in a sidecar with Jack really. You are his master, after all.”

He finally agrees to get in the sidecar with Molly driving.

Before we set off, Zeke pulls out the map.

“It’s four hundred miles direct,” he says. “But that takes us straight through Chicago.”

I shake my head. “No way. We need to avoid Chicago entirely. There’ll be an arena there. I’m certain.”

He nods in agreement. “Then how about we take this route, heading slightly southwest? We’ll avoid Chicago completely, but it will add an extra three hours to the journey.”

“Three more hours?” Ryan repeats. “That’s a hell of a lot more gas used up than needs to be.”

“I think we should take the direct route,” Molly says, joining in the debate.

“I think we should take the safest route,” Ben contests.

I sigh, my head filled with thoughts that swirl around. “Is there anywhere to stop off midway?” I ask Zeke. “We could do with hunting and picking up some more provisions.”

Stephan makes a scoffing noise. “Yeah, great idea, since you’ve eaten all my rations.”

Even though it’s true that we finished up the last of his rations over breakfast, I shoot him a glare and he quiets down.

Zeke shows me a spot on the map that’s meant to be a wooded area. It’s on the direct route, close to Chicago. It would be risky to go that way but I’m starting to think it’s our best bet.

“Remember this map is about a hundred years old,” Zeke reminds me. “Whether that wood is still there or not, there’s no guarantee.”

I nod, understanding that it would be a risk to head somewhere we can’t be certain exists, especially when it’s so close to a major city.

“Molly and Ryan are right,” I say finally. “We need to head the most direct route. We can stop off here in the forest, pick up some provisions, have a rest. Then we’ll detour a little south so that we miss Chicago entirely.”

I look up at my friends, hoping for confirmation. Ben’s the only one who doesn’t look impressed. He must think I’m siding with Ryan when I’m really just trying to do what’s best for everyone.

Zeke folds up the map and puts it away safely in his pocket. “That’s settled then. Let’s go.”

We mount our bikes and head out of the garage and onto the main road, leaving Toledo and the destroyed rail yard behind us, venturing out on a new path, with a new plan, into the unknown.

* * *