“The Chevy?” Derek asked.

“It runs.”

“I mean, yeah.”

“We mostly have it in case we need to go pick up a bunch of mulch or something. We haven’t driven it in a year. If it starts, you can take it. You can pay us back later.”

“What year is it?” April asked.

“Mid-nineties?” Derek said.

“That would be perfect.”

“I can pay you,” I told them.

Derek stayed quiet as Crystal said, “It’s not a problem. We want to help.”

“I am willing to take your help,” April said. “Where is this car?”

“It’s a truck, a Chevy S-10. It’s around the side of the house.”

“OK.” April stood up. “This has been far more lovely than we deserved. Can I ask you a very silly question?”

They both stood there with blank looks on their faces.

“Can I also take this garden book?” She gingerly lifted the massive book off of the table with her swimming crystal fingers.

“You two don’t have to leave right now. It’s late, you should sleep. You can leave in the morning.”

“No, we have to go now. We can’t be anywhere near here,” April said. “Can we have your garden book?”

“Yes, yeah, sure. You can return it with the truck.”

“Thank you,” April said, tucking the book under her arm like it was a mass-market paperback.

I stood up, realizing that we were leaving.

“Derek, Crystal, thank you. We’ll always be in your debt,” I said.

“What should we do with your truck?” Crystal asked.

“Maya will leave in it,” April told her. “We’ll caravan until we get to a fast-food place. We’ll leave the Nissan there. They’ll find it with no way to trace it back to you and no good info on where we went.”

“Yeah, uh, I guess we’re going to do that,” I said, my eyebrows arching.

We caravanned until we got to a Wendy’s, and then moved everything from the Nissan into the Chevy and abandoned the Nissan there. I felt bad not returning it to the rental car place, but, like, I guess I was a fugitive now and needed to start acting like it.

I joined April in the Chevy S-10 and we got in the drive-through line. The truck was white, a little rusty, and had big, knobby tires. But the interior was clean and soft and had the necessary number of cup holders.

“I’m glad they didn’t make us pay them,” she said. “We would have had to do a bank transfer and there would have been a paper trail. I told Derek that if anyone came by to ask questions to say that you asked to borrow his truck and he hasn’t seen you since. I think that’s the first time he actually realized he should be worried.”

“Do you think they’ll get in trouble?”

“No, they loaned us a truck. People do that for friends.”

We ordered our burgers and coffees and fries.

“So, where to now?”

April thought for a second, and then her eyes cinched shut and her lips peeled back. Her pearly left hand gripped the steering wheel so hard it creaked.

“APRIL!?” I said in alarm.

She let out a grunt and then unclenched.

“Fuck, why does it hurt …” she said to herself. And then to me, “We’re going to drive about a hundred miles north on 295. Then we’ll go to an ATM, get as much money as we can, fill up the truck, and then that’s the last time we’ll be able to use our credit cards. That is also where I’ll make you leave your phone. In the meantime, can you look up the most in-the-middle-of-nowhere place in Vermont that still has a hotel that doesn’t suck?”

“What the hell was that? Are you OK?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll tell you when I know more.”

“Why can’t we just go to an ATM and get gas now?”

“Because they’re probably watching gas stations nearby for us.”

“Jesus,” I breathed.

She drove, and I sat in the passenger seat, searching for someplace in Vermont to hide my cyborg ex.

“I’m going to text everyone to let them know I’ll be out of touch.”

“Everyone?” April asked.

“Andy, Miranda, and Robin. Though Miranda is also out of touch right now because she’s”—I didn’t know how to explain—“on vacation. Do you think whoever sent those cops after us can read our texts?”

“I mean, if I wanted to, Maya, I think I could read your texts, so I’m not taking any chances.”

As unsettling as April’s impossible calm was, it was really nice because I was freaking out.

“OK, I’m texting, ‘Going off grid for a little while, everyone. I miss you.’ ”

“That should be fine.”

After a few seconds, a text came in from Andy.

“Andy wrote back,” I told her, chuckling. “He says, ‘That is disastrously cryptic and I hate you.’ ” I smiled and looked over to April. Her eyes were locked on the road; she did not react, so I went back to my phone. It was the first chat we’d had in a while.

Robin: I agree with Andy in the sentiment if not the exact tone.

Maya: How are you guys doing?

Andy: Better since our chat, honestly. Robin, Maya is the best, if you didn’t already know.

Robin: I did, though I’ll remind you that you just said you hated her.

Andy:

Robin: Maya, I am well. Andy is keeping me busy by suddenly being deeply interested in other things, and so I’m picking up a lot of dropped balls.

Andy: That is some seriously passive-aggressive shit, my friend.

Andy: Well done!

Maya: What are your new interests?

Andy: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.

Maya: Ugh … why were you born a man?

Andy: OK, well, confidentially, I am infiltrating a cabal of people attempting large-scale manipulation of human culture. And also trying to maybe have a girlfriend?

Still looking at my phone I said, “Oh my god, Andy has a girlfriend.” I looked to April—she did not turn away from the road. I went to wrap up the conversation.

Maya: OK, well, have fun with your GIRLFRIEND. And your secret society! I really do have to go now! I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but don’t worry.

Andy: AND THEN THERE WERE TWO!

Robin: Ugh.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. And then, after a moment, “I’m glad everyone’s doing all right.” I wasn’t sure whether there was accusation in her voice. She had missed so much. We had all lost her; she had lost everyone.

We drove on 295 for ninety minutes and then got off at a gas station. I filled up the truck, and April took my ATM card to the machine.

“How much money did you get?” I asked when she got back with a road atlas tucked under her arm.

“About ten thousand dollars.”

“That’s not possible, there’s a daily limit,” I said.

“Maya …” She turned her face to me. “I stole it.”

“What?”

“I opened the ATM and took out the money.”

“Is it OK for me to be not OK right now?” I half whispered.