Page 82 of Victorious

“Silly dog,” said Mitch, shaking his head as he added his axe to the back of the truck, and swung the tailgate shut.

Syd called to Dol again, and this time he came, leaping up onto the back seat.

Mitch climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.

Sydney slung her backpack into the footwell and took her place beside him. Here we go again, she thought, but what she said was “I get to pick the music,” which earned her a weary smile.

As the truck rumbled down the road, Mitch cast a last glance at the little red cabin shrinking in the rearview mirror.

Sydney didn’t.

She’d learned by now it was easier not to look back.

VINOW. THEN.

THE red pickup truck took off down the packed dirt road.

In its wake, the cabin sat deserted.

The clearing silent, empty.

No one was there to see what happened next.

The way the tree line shimmered, warped, before a human-sized section melted away from branch and trunk, turning back to cloth and skin as the EO shed his camouflage.

One moment, he’d blended seamlessly into the woods.

The next, he looked exactly as he had standing at the bottom of the cabin steps.

Blond hair cropped close, the way he’d kept it since his military days, one hand in his pocket and the sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

Only his eyes held on to the illusion, colors swirling across their surface like spilled paint. Hence the shades.

As far as glitches went, it could be worse.

“Haley. Like the comet,” drawled Weaver in his ear, somehow still sarcastic.

He rolled his eyes. “Patch me through to Dr. Gray.”

The late-day sun was low and bright, but his breath fogged in the cold.

“Noah,” said the doctor’s voice, a moment later. Warm and welcoming. “Talk to me.”

“I found the girl.” He gave a description of the cabin, the town, before adding, “She’s not alone.”

He could hear the pencil tapping lightly on the desk. Then stop. “Vale?”

“No. Mitchell Turner. And the dog.”

“Well done,” said Dr. Gray. “Are they still there?”

“Negative,” he said, squinting down the empty road. “They’re on the move. But I have eyes.”

On his phone, two dots flashed on the screen, his and theirs. He watched the distance between them steadily increasing, glad he’d put the tracker on the truck while they were packing.

In his ear, Gabriel gave the order. “Go after them.”

“Understood.” Noah cracked his neck and started down the road.