Revolution

- 26 -

"So, let me get this straight. You have not one, but two houses and you don't even live in one of them?"

"Only on weekends in the summer," Brandon responds, and I groan. What's the point of owning and paying for an additional house if you don't even use it the majority of the time?

"So that's where we're going?" Emma asks innocently, crammed in the backseat behind me. This elicits another groan of frustration from me. We went over this a few minutes ago.

Brandon yawns. "Yeah." I guess he's too tired to think about his dead family, dragged away from his real house days ago, zippered up in white bags. I don't like thinking about it either.

Another half hour passes of driving down cracked service roads. Brandon tells me he doesn't have a license so he's avoiding main roads. It's annoying, how little process we're making, and the night doesn't help our situation.

"You should get some sleep," Emma murmurs from the backseat. I've been wide awake and alert since we departed from Gull's Lansing, so I know she's not talking to me. Brandon, on the other hand, yawns in response. I have to adjust the wheel for him so he doesn't steer into the curb.

"I can keep going," he says, but Emma and I both know he's lying.

"Brandon," she warns. There's a slight edge in her voice.

"I'm fine."

"You're going to kill us."

"I'm not." At the same time, he swerves slightly. I have to right the wheel again, and send Emma a curious look to where she sits in the backseat. She shrugs.

"Brandon." He glances over at me, eyes already half closed. I cross my arms. "You need to sleep, dumbass."

Emma scoffs. I pretend not to hear it.

He waves me off. "I'm fine."

"Seriously. We're still an hour, at minimum, away from your spare house. Pull off to a gas station or something, or I swear, I will possess you and force you to do it."

"Oh shit," Brandon mumbles, slowing down for a red light. I point to a section up ahead where the road splits off into two sections, with one labeled "rest stop." He nods unsteadily.

He has to pull in and back up twice until he's able to decently fit the wheels in between the lines in the parking lot. The building is dark on the inside, all sloped roofs and dirtied windows. There's a map on the outside near the door. Brandon immediately slumps forward with his arms crossed on the wheel while the vehicle is still running. I glance back at Emma, who's already pushing open the door to make room so Brandon can lay down. I give her a nod of thanks. I was not like this the first time I met him.

He's still conscious enough that he's able to stumble around to the side and fall onto the seat, but he's out in seconds after that. Emma leans against the door, the white binder clutches against her chest. Is he okay? she mouths to me, and I nod. I know he's fine, just tired. Me too, but I'm able to handle it better. Emma shuts the door quietly, careful not to slam his feet with the metal.

I start to walk toward the building slowly and she matches my pace. "I'm worried about him, but I found something more startling."

"What could possibly be more startling than a teenager driving without a license at night with no experience," I grumble.

"The fact that Brandon has a bunch of people identified, people that may be funding Dynagenesis, but some of the people he identified are the doctors I remember."

I don't know what to say to that. "Who?"

"Nobody that you would know. They were fired years ago, and made sure the rest of you forgot. I can give you the names, but they won't mean anything."