Part 27 (1/2)
Then they were out on South Abel Street, and Vienna pressed her foot down, disregarding the people who had to jump out of the way.
An overturned car, on fire, blocked the road ahead. Clearly visible in the flickering yellow flames, the dazed occupants sat on the curb. This time Vienna didn't stop, didn't change course; she just veered slightly, aiming for the trunk of the car. There was a jarring crunch, and then they were past. Sam looked back to see the car spinning and burning like a giant Roman candle.
Sirens on police cars wailed as they circled around aimlessly, helpless in the omnipresent darkness.
Sounds of smas.h.i.+ng gla.s.s came from both sides, and the sound of shredding tires somewhere nearby was followed by the sickening thud of an accident.
A police car pulled out of a side street and raced up behind them, lights flas.h.i.+ng. Before Sam could even warn the others, however, a four-wheel-drive slid out of a side street, sideswiping the police car, which screeched to a halt and fell away behind them.
They took Calaveras Boulevard out to the Sinclair Freeway interchange, then went north on I-680.
The rain eased, then stopped as they rolled out into the desert. Sam sank back into the upholstery and said nothing, exhausted by the day's events.
Tyler glared at him from the rear seat, handcuffed to the door handle.
”We don't have time to get to Cheyenne,” Vienna said. ”Even if we drive through the night. Someone will have reported this car stolen before then. We'll have to hide the pickup and change cars again.”
”What do you think, Dodge?” Sam asked.
Dodge looked blank.
”We need to do something,” Vienna said harshly, ”or Tactical will be all over us when Ursula comes back online.”
Sam looked back at Dodge. He looked tired and confused.
”I have an idea,” Sam said. ”I know somewhere we could go.”
”Where?” Dodge asked.
Sam shook his head. ”The less Tyler knows, the better.”
They stopped in Livermore, where the streets were dark but deserted, and Sam and Vienna went shopping with the aid of a tire iron from the rear of the pickup.
They stopped at a grocery store, a hardware store, and an electronics store, in that order. Sam helped Vienna load cartons of food into the back of the pickup, along with bolt cutters and other tools that he thought they might need. The hardware store had a good supply of hazmat suits, and he took four.
The electronics store yielded a laptop computer and a sensor device in a black leather carrying case. Sam stowed the device in the back of the pickup, being careful not to let Tyler see it.
At the end of the short shopping spree, Vienna climbed behind the wheel and took them back onto the interstate.
It was dark and hilly, but the lights of the pickup reached out in front of them, clawing back the night, and they made good time, veering around to the southeast and merging onto I-5 toward Los Angeles.
The pickup had a GPS navigation unit, but it was offline. The whole world was currently off-line, Sam thought. There was a map book in the glove compartment, though, and he flicked the reading light on to help him study it.
”Stay on the interstate until we get to exit 278,” he said. ”Take Highway 46 toward Wasco.”
Vienna's eyes narrowed for a moment, then opened in understanding. ”Through to Bakersfield, right?”
”Yeah.”
Dark farmland stretched out to their left, and even darker mountains to their right, illuminated only by starlight.
Sam yawned and wondered how Vienna was managing to stay awake. Hours pa.s.sed and the landscape outside his window started to blur into a kaleidoscope image of heavy black and brown shapes.
”You won't get away with this,” Tyler said abruptly, yanking Sam back to full consciousness. ”It was bad enough before, but kidnapping a federal agent is going to add years to your jail time.”
”What did they do?” Vienna asked, her hands tensing on the steering wheel. ”I wasn't there, remember? You tell me. What did they do that was so bad?”
”You could get off lightly,” Tyler said by way of reply. ”You weren't involved at the start, and you could say you were duped or pressured by these two into being an accessory. I'd support you.”
”Thanks, I appreciate that,” Vienna said. ”So what exactly did these two mugs do that had a whole troop of Tactical chasing them out of the CDD building?”
”They attacked Swamp Witch,” Tyler said. ”We still don't know how, but they used some kind of technology to induce a neurological event. Same thing happened in Chicago, and guess who was on the spot that time as well? Dodge and Sam. I think that Swamp Witch found out what they were up to and tried to stop them.”
”We never attacked Swamp Witch,” Sam said. ”That was-”
Vienna cut him off. ”How do you know it was them? For sure.”
”I saw the security footage,” Tyler replied. ”I saw the two of them coming out of the swamp, and then Swamp Witch started screaming.”
”We never-” Sam began, but Vienna held up a hand to silence him.
”Shut up, Sam. I want to hear Tyler's version,” she said. ”So you can clearly remember Sam and Dodge coming out before Swamp Witch screamed?”
”As clear as you're sitting in front of me now.”
”What if you never saw that at all?” Vienna asked.
”I saw it,” Tyler said firmly.
”I know, but what if it was a false memory that had been implanted in your brain? How would you know the difference?”
”I saw it,” Tyler said again.
”You remember seeing it. What if that memory was false? How would you know?”
”You're the bright one-you tell me,” Tyler said.
”You wouldn't know,” Sam said. ”Not if you thought it was a genuine memory.”
”We are our memories,” Dodge said. ”That's all we are. That's what makes us the person we are. The sum of all our memories from the day we were born. If you took a person and replaced his set of memories with another set, he'd be a different person. He'd think, act, and feel things differently.”
”I know what I remember,” Tyler said.
”You're missing the point,” Vienna said. ”If it was possible to implant a false memory of something that never happened, then to you that memory would be as real as if it really did happen.”
”How is that even possible?” Tyler scoffed.