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“It’s okay,” Jude said with forced brightness. “They wouldn’t have called us in. They didn’t look like PSFs or skip tracers anyway.”

Skip tracers didn’t have a look—Chubs was evidence of that. He had maybe dressed the part, but he wasn’t one of them. He didn’t have that detached coldness that seemed to permeate from the others. His reaction now, the way he jammed his key into the ignition, made me wonder if he had ever noticed how irresponsible he was being until this very moment.

It didn’t become a real problem until we reached the outskirts of Nashville and the blockade the National Guard had set up and staffed with a few dozen of their finest.

“City closed,” Jude said, reading the spray-painted sign we flew past. It was a series of signs, one after another. “Flood zone. Slow. City closed. Turn back. National Guard entry only. City closed.” Jude’s voice dropped just a little bit more with each one he read, but the SUV only picked up speed. The makeshift station began as a dark, blurry line at the horizon of the snow-slick road and took shape, one barbed tangle of wires and fence at a time.

“Slow down,” I told Chubs. “Stop for a second.” He ignored both requests.

Vida glanced up from where she had been typing out another message to Cate on the Chatter. “Oh. Yeah. Cate said the city’s been blocked off since the summer. Something about how a river flooded the city and some people started rioting when they didn’t get any aid.”

I sighed, pressing my face into my hands. “That information would have been useful to know twenty minutes ago.” Back when we were, you know, in the middle of a discussion about the best way into the city.

Vida shrugged.

“Uhhhh,” Jude began, a distinct note of panic in his voice. “There’s a guy coming toward us. He is coming toward us really freaking fast.”

Sure enough, a National Guardsman had pulled away from the chain-link fence and dirty yellow barrels they were using to block our path down the road. He was jogging, his gun and supplies jostling with each step. A spike of cold panic shot straight up my spine.

The National Guardsman stopped, his hand drifting to the firearm at his side.

Then Chubs asked, “Does everyone have their seat belt on?”

“You’re joking,” I began. There was no way. He would never.

Vida finally looked up from the Chatter.

Jude yelped as the car lurched forward. Chubs had floored the pedal.

I reached over and jerked the wheel, forcing the car to veer sharply to the left. Chubs tried to shove me off, but I guided the car around, narrowly missing the soldier who had come out to meet us. He eased up immediately on the gas, but we were already headed back in the right direction—away from the fence, the soldiers, and danger. Vida slammed her palm against the grate and the pedal floored under her influence, locked hard against the SUV’s dirty carpet. Chubs tried pumping the brakes, and the car seemed to shriek in protest.

When the blockade was finally a small blip in the rearview mirror, Vida lifted her hand and Chubs’s foot came down on the brake. The seat belts snapped over our chests.

“I…” I started when I’d finally caught my breath. “Why… You…”

“Dammit!” Chubs began, slapping his hand against the steering wheel. He didn’t sound like himself; he had yelled at me before, countless times, but this was…I actually felt myself shrink. “How dare you do that! How dare you!”

“If you’re going to fight, can you do it outside?” Vida said. “I already have a big enough headache without hearing Mommy and Daddy at each other’s throats.”

Fine by me. I unbuckled my seat belt, ignoring Chubs’s growl as he did the same.

“What?” he demanded, coming around to meet me at the front of the SUV. His boots slid through the snow clinging to the dark surface of the road. His breath was hot with anger. It fanned out white and sticky against my stinging cheeks.

“What was that?” I asked. “Were you really going to force your way through?”

It was how he shrugged, like it didn’t matter, like it was nothing, that made me crazy.

“I can’t believe it,” I said. “Wake up! Wake up! This isn’t like you at all!”

“I wouldn’t have had to do it if you didn’t stick me with those stupid kids—I could have flashed some papers and we would have been in!” He dragged a hand through his tuft of dark hair. “And you know what? Even if I had gone through with it, it’s not like they would have caught up to us. Honestly, weren’t you and Lee the ones who always said we had to take risks if we were going to get by?”

“Are you…” I could barely choke the word out. “Are you serious? Risks? Where is your head? You are so much smarter than this!”

Did it matter that I was yelling or that he was doing his best to try to tower over me with his height? Did it matter that the other two were watching us through the windshield?

“Sure, we would have gotten through the blockade, maybe even miles away, but what if they got your license plate number and reported that? What if up the road there was another blockade, and they were waiting for us there? What would you have done? You’re the only one with papers; you would have been fine—but if they had taken me? Or Jude or Vida? Could you have lived with that?”

“What about Liam?” he shouted. “You know, the one whose brain you decided to fry? The one who’s lost, or dead, or near to it because you decided to screw with him? Remember him?”

Every inch of my skin felt like the branches of the trees overhead, stripped bare and coated with frost. “You do blame me.”

“Who else would I blame?” he shouted. “It’s your fault, dammit! And now you’re acting like this? Like those kids are more important to you than us? Yeah, I’ve had to make a few changes. So what? I’ve been getting on just fine making my own decisions. You keep acting like I’m still bleeding out in your hands, but I’m fine! I am better than fine! You’re the one who’s wrong! You’re—”

I hadn’t even heard the door open, but Vida was suddenly standing beside me, her shoulder pressed against mine.

“Back. Off.” I felt her hand close around my wrist. “You don’t want us here, ass-clown? Fine. We’re out.”