Dani sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” She held her bread with her teeth and pushed Skeever off her.
He got up reluctantly and went straight for her lunch.
Lynn took pity. She pushed away from the railing and grabbed the dog’s collar. “Come here, you.”
He struggled against the hold but stayed in place after another firm yank.
Dani sent her a look of gratitude and hurried to stand up. A flash of agony scrunched up her face, and she groaned around her lunch. After she closed her backpack, she shook out her feet one at a time. She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “This,” she said, “is torture.”
Lynn couldn’t help grinning. “I thought you were supposed to be the big, bad hunter? You must be used to walking.”
“Not for days on end!” Dani hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders. “Besides, most of what I do is either short tracks from trap to trap or lots and lots of lying in wait with a short dash at the end. I can stand for hours, sit on my haunches for ages, but walking? Not my thing.”
Lynn let Skeever go and watched him bounce around a few times before circling them and racing off. She gave Dani’s shoulder a teasing pat. “Well, you’ll either get used to it really fast or be in agony for the rest of the trip, won’t you?”
Dani slumped a little. “Don’t remind me.”
For the first time, Lynn found herself sympathizing with Dani’s plight a little.
“I think we should have taken the other lane after all.” Dani leaned against the fence over the divider to peer at the other side of the road.
Lynn climbed one of the abandoned cars and looked out over the mess ahead. Why was this road system so bloody massive? Had the Old Worlders navigated this tangle of supersized roads with ease, or had they been as confused as Lynn was by all the overhead signs, exits, and rows upon rows of lanes? “I don’t know. I think our exit is still up ahead. The last sign said Manhattan to the right, didn’t it? And that’s not the one we want. I think that if we head on, we should be directed off this interstate and onto the right one eventually.”
Dani looked back at her with a frown. “Maybe.”
Lynn put her hands on her hips and sighed. She scanned the horizon. It was a mess of green and roads, a convergence point for a number of lanes as they swirled from the streets below onto the height of the overpass. “The map said we were on an island, so we have to go over another bridge to get off. I don’t think we have yet. If we go straight on, we’ll cross the water and we’ll come to another split. There we make sure we go on along the 278.” Well, that’s your plan anyway.
Dani climbed the stone divider and gripped the fence with her fingers. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the rapidly fading sunlight and peered out over the road as if searching for a divine sign.
Skeever crawled into a car, out of sight.
Lynn kept her balance on the car’s roof while she turned to look back at the weird little houses with the boom barriers that they had just passed. Signs above had read cash and E-ZPass. Neither had meant anything to her.
“Okay, I guess you’re right.” Dani jumped down and hissed. She shook out her feet again.
Lynn climbed down carefully to spare her arm. Fine pair we make. She bit back a snort. “So onward?”
“Onward.” Dani squinted. “Skeever?”
“He’s in there.” Lynn nodded at the skeletal vehicle that was distinguishable from the rest only by the fact that its roof hadn’t rusted away completely.
“What’s he doing in there?”
Lynn heard the high-pitched squealing long before she glimpsed inside. “Lunch.”
“Lunch of—oh!” Dani swiveled away. She swallowed, presumably to keep her own down.
Skeever pulled a wormy little creature, a baby rat, from the tattered remains of the backseat cushioning. He threw his head back, crushed the small meal, and swallowed. His tail pounded the back of the passenger seat.
Lynn grinned at Dani. “How can you be a hunter and yet be so damn squeamish?”
“There is a big—” She paused and swallowed. The hand not around her spear lay on her abdomen. “Big difference between butchering an animal and then roasting it over a nice fire or eating live mice.”
“Rats.”
“What?”
“Those are rats. The tail.” She held her thumb and index finger a few inches apart. “Rat.”
Dani squinted. “Is that really what matters here?”
“Probably not.” Lynn grinned. “But I can’t help being just a little bit amused.”
“Whatever.” Dani scrunched up her features when a high-pitched cry sounded, then cut off abruptly.
Lynn leaned against the car’s frame as she waited for Skeever to finish his meal. “Be happy he catches most of his own food.” She was; if he didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to keep him.
Dani didn’t reply. She walked over to the railing and looked down.
Lynn listened to the birds, enjoyed the sun, and made sure they were still alone. Respite, but she was also getting anxious. She really wanted to make it over the bridge today. “Skeeve, come on.” She pushed away from the car and snapped her fingers at knee-height. “You’re done.”
Skeever tilted his head up. His reddened tongue lolled. His enthusiasm seemed to have returned as his stomach had filled.
“Coming?” Lynn had already walked off.
Dani fell in line with a glare at Skeever.
Skeever licked his lips and trotted off, head in the wind.
Lynn stared out ahead. They must be getting close to the bridge leading off this island now. When they did, how was she going to find her route out of New York? Would it be listed on any signs? The sun sank lower as she studied every sign, either on the side of the road or overhead. The anxiety returned in the form of sweaty hands and a swelling heartbeat that worsened the painful pulsing in her arm. What if it wasn’t listed?
The next overhead sign said something about bridges that meant nothing to Lynn, but the one after that said to take the next right for the 278 East. Far more important was the red and blue shield above the sign next to it, which read: 87 North. Her exit.
Lynn expressly focused on the road that led east. “That’s the one, right?”
Dani glanced up at the signs. “278 to Bruckner expwy and New England?”
“The 278 part is correct, according to the map. I have no idea what the other things are. They aren’t on the map, I think. Want me to check?” Lynn moved to slide her backpack off.
Dani shook her head. “No, we don’t have a choice anyway. East is where we want to go. The 278 is the road we were looking for, not the 87. So let’s take the exit and find somewhere to sleep tonight.” She peered up at the rapidly sinking sun. “I don’t think I’ll get to soak my feet.”
Lynn nodded. “’Fraid not.” She stole a glance at the 87 sign one more time before she followed Dani over the bridge and toward the first exit.
The lock clicked under Lynn’s gentle prodding. A flash of pride surged in her chest. If only I’d had these when they locked me up in that damn closet. She would have been out of New York by now. “There we go.” Almost every building on this street had been secured with a roll-up garage door and a small roll-up next to it with, presumably, a regular door behind it. This door was the only one without a security grate and had thus become the target of her lock-picking skills. She stowed her tools and picked up her tomahawk. While crouched to the side of the door, she pushed the metal door open.