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Chelsea shrugged. It was getting easier to reach out, to find the others. She was in contact with three more dolly daddies. So many things to do—give a soldier smoochies, get past the other soldiers and get to the place with lots of people. How could they do it all?

She had an idea, an idea that Chauncey wouldn’t like. Maybe she just wouldn’t tell Chauncey. She wasn’t sure if the idea would work, though—she needed some help to figure it out.

What she needed was more brain power.

Like a few minutes ago, when they all had that feeling . . .

“Everyone, think with me,” Chelsea said. She closed her eyes. Even though she couldn’t see, she felt the others close their eyes, one by one. Their thoughts melded together, and they started to plan.

INBRED TRAILER-TRASH HICKS WATCHING SPRINGER

Three more cars to go. She could fool them. She had to fool them. They wanted to kill her whole family but Bernadette wouldn’t let that happen.

She had to stay calm, keep the kids calm. William was in the pa.s.senger seat, all buckled in. He was scared, she knew, but he was being quiet. Sally and Christine were in the backseat. They were being so good, just perfect little angels. She’d tucked a blanket around them so they wouldn’t get cold.

Two more cars to go. She pulled her Saab up one car length.

Shawn was still back home. The cheating b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Let him stay there, let him have the whole house to himself. He’d f.u.c.ked around on her, she just knew it. Maybe with that little wh.o.r.e secretary at his construction office. He hired a girl who dyed her hair jet-black and wore all that eye makeup to be a secretary? Bernadette didn’t know what a goth was and didn’t want to know. Probably just another term for s.l.u.t, which is what the little wh.o.r.e most likely was.

She knew he’d cheated, because the voices told her so.

One more car to go. She pulled up again. She rolled down her window. Cold winter air poured in.

The soldiers were everywhere. Soldiers and cops. They wanted to kill her, she just knew it. She didn’t want to go near them, but the voices had told her to go this way, told her she could get past the checkpoint, onto the highway and away from g.a.y.l.o.r.d.

The soldiers had some kind of test. Maybe it was like a Breathalyzer. She’d pa.s.sed those before. The voices told her she could pa.s.s it, and she believed them.

After all, if you can’t believe the voices in your own head, who can you believe?

“Mom, where are we going?”

“We’re leaving, William,” she said. “Now, I told you to be quiet. Are you going to talk again?”

William’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head violently. No, he wasn’t going to talk again. If he did, she’d just have to deal with him.

The pickup truck ahead of her pulled forward. A state trooper stood in front of her car. He waved her closer. She inched up slowly until he snapped his palm out, signaling her to stop.