Читать книгу Unbreakable - Elizabeth Norris, Elizabeth Norris - Страница 14

he third checkpoint is at Clairemont Mesa Boulevard. We pass two flares and a Marine with a machine gun to signal the upcoming stop. Deirdre slows the car until it jerks to a standstill, then rolls down her window and holds out our IDs.

But instead of waving us through, he holds on to them, examining their every corner with the flashlight.

My first reaction is to be annoyed. I’m so exhausted my whole body aches with a heaviness that makes me feel sluggish and irritable. We’re supposed to be on the same team—the good guys—and here we are being detained by some overeager hero wannabe.

But when he still doesn’t give the IDs back, a trickle of fear moves through me like a chill. I shiver a little and sit up straighter.

Something’s not right.

He looks up and says, “What’s your business on the road?” His voice is deep, and I don’t recognize it. He’s either new to this checkpoint or new to the night shift.

My heart speeds up, pumping a little too fast.

Deirdre has the patience of a saint, so she doesn’t snap at this guy. Instead she quietly explains, “We’ve just come from Qualcomm. Another missing-person case, endangered, class two.”

Endangered means it looks like an abduction scenario, rather than someone who’s run away or someone who hasn’t been found and is presumed dead from one of the disasters. Class two means it’s someone between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four.

“Can you step out of the car, please?” he says, and my breath feels shallow.

Deirdre must be feeling like me because she says, “Seriously?”

He waits for us to get out. I force my breath to stay even and my hands to relax. Clenched fists don’t exactly say cooperation.

Deirdre opens her door and glances at me. I’d have to be blind to miss the pointed look she gives me. It says, Don’t cause trouble. I don’t need the reminder. Before anyone declared martial law, people sometimes fought the military—there were even a few cases of leftover entitlement after it was official, people who didn’t want to believe the world had changed, people who refused to give up their liberties.

Those people ended up dead.

I bite back the spike of fear that shoots through my chest and open my door.

Getting out of the car, I immediately raise my hands and intertwine my fingers, locking them behind my head. I exhale evenly and tell myself that I know this drill. That I will cooperate and that this is routine.

In a few minutes we’ll be back on our way.

Two Marines in full camouflage step out of the darkness. One trains his gun on me.