Happy Utopia Day, Joe McCarthy

Chapter 24

It is dangerous for a national candidate to say things that people might remember.

-Senator Joseph McCarthy

Patrick stands next to his squad car motioning frantically at us to come his way.

Derek and I sprint toward the car. Patrick gets inside and starts the engine. He turns on the lights and blares the siren, which stuns the few parishioners who have exited the church.

Derek and I dive into the backseat, and Patrick speeds away. "Nice speech," Derek says.

"A lot of help you were."

"I'm the only black man within a hundred miles. They were mad at me just for sitting there."

"You could have done something."
"Man, you did enough," Derek says.

"Didn't exactly convince them," Patrick says. "A few of them," I say.

Derek touches his earring, snaps his fingers, and points. "I found the exit."

"And you were leaving without me, I noticed."

"I figured you could handle those powder puffs on your own."

We drive over the bridge and leave town. Patrick turns off the lights and siren. "Probably be fired for this."

"You're doing the right thing," I say.

"I've thought about what you said in there. It hurts, but it makes sense."

"It makes no sense," Derek says. "Does it ever?" I say.

"What you guys say is believable," Patrick says. "More believable than this everlasting McCarthy crap."

We failed to convince the town, except for Samuel and a few others. We're back to square one, and Slater's bound to hear about our public performance and come after us. "We need a plan," I say.

"Slater will be on our tail soon," Derek says. "We need a place to hide."

We are on the highway now, following the river, curving through the mountains. Patrick drives, silent, listening to Derek and I talk.

"Land said no one would find him on the reservation.

Maybe we should go there and regroup," I say. "Ninjenna and Joemore might still be there."

"Then we'd have a team. Together we could devise a plan to save the Emergence residents."

Derek laughs sarcastically. "That's being a little optimistic.

We're kind of a ragtag bunch."

"Come on, Derek. We're pros. Look at all we've done the last few days. Masterful escapes with intelligent strategy and pinpoint execution! We're basically super spies at this point, just as good as Bond. We'll figure out something. We have to try, at least."

Derek doesn't look impressed with my assessment. Too bad Wizkid ditched us." He looks out the window at the pass- ing scenery. "Okay. Going to the Cherokee reservation in Okla- homa is not a bad idea."

"I can't take you that far," Patrick says. "But I can drop you at the bus station in Salt Lake City."

"We certainly appreciate it," I say.

Derek touches my arm. "We're low on funds."

Patrick reaches into his pocket and tosses his wallet to us. "'Bout six hundred in there. Take it."

"Really? You sure?"

"If I can help avenge my brother, then that's nothing." "Thanks. You're helping to save the current boys, too." "I wish I could do more."