Chapter 11

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Will stuffed her bloody T-shirt, cotton swabs and bandages into a sealed container, used a button to suck out the air, and threw it into his sports bag.

 "How do you feel?" he asked.

 "Better."

 "We should get moving."

 Day followed him out of the insulated medical unit, through the brick warehouse and back outside. She screened her eyes from the sunlight. Will put on a pair of shades.

 They walked down a dusty lane towards the hidden van. The unnerving thrum of a distant helicopter penetrated the quiet landscape. As there was little else around for miles, Day assumed the chopper was searching for them.

 She shielded her eyes and scanned the pinky grey clouds for a glimpse of it. Will strode ahead as confident and easy-going as ever. As he slid open the van door, she caught sight of the police helicopter low in the sky. It had to fly beneath the cloud-line to see anything.

 She lowered her gaze and her eyes fell on Will who looked at her expectantly.

 "The most important thing to remember," he said as she approached, "is we need to get to Mars."

 Mars! He'd said nothing about going to Mars. That was ridiculous.

 "So ignore the chopper and get to Mars," she said sarcastically, pretending to make a to do list.

 "The authorities will catch us sooner or later," he said as she climbed into the van. "That's part of the plan." He closed the door and darkness swamped them. Day's eyes adjusted slowly as he sat down beside her. Again she felt energy radiating from him, making her chest swell like she'd swallowed a sunbeam.

 "Getting caught is part of the plan?" she stuttered.

 "Yes, but we want to delay it for as long as possible."

 Will spoke into his wrist communicator. "Have you got radio clearance on the chopper? Any smaller vehicles in the vicinity? Negative, she's injured." He paused and assessed Day's state. "I'd say there's a fifty percent chance. Other options? Okay, let's do that."

 Day felt an uncomfortable mix of emotions. She didn't enjoy knowing so little. She didn't like Will deciding everything without her input. She didn't like that Will and Monday had planned this together and clearly intended to tell her as little as possible.

 The van bounded over the lumpy road and joined the highway. It made a loud rattling sound like it was getting ready to explode.

 "Is this thing electric?" she asked.

 "Yes."

 "It's not going to blow us up, is it?"

 "If we can go fast enough, the chopper won't see us when it loops back round. We'll be out of its range."

 Pain shot through Day's chest—an anxious, twisty pain that was probably anxiety. She pressed her hand over her heart to ease it.

 "Day, I think it would benefit you to relax." She opened her eyes and his face was right in front of her. "You need to find that place deep inside where you know nothing can happen to you. This is an illusion, an echo of your past thoughts and feelings and actions. If you remain afraid, frightening things will keep happening. Let go. Everything is perfect. Everything is going to plan."

 As he said "plan" something smashed into the van. Day's body flew off the seat. The van jerked sideways, thrown off course by the collision. There was the high pitched, deathly sound of metal scraping metal. Day gripped the door handle and peered out of the tinted window. They'd driven into a metal barrier, once used to divide the road's two-way traffic.

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