Getting Home

Part 28

Which led us up to right now.

There was one last, quiet thought stopping me as my fingers played nervously with the long, yellow EVIDENCE tag dangling off the key in the ignition:

What if starting a car in this world was dangerous? I had no idea how engines work, but what if something in it reacted with something in the air?

What if it set the atmosphere on fire?

You're BREATHING the air. Seems fine. Probably won't even start, anyways.

Yeah. Maybe.

What do you care, anyways? You think you're dead.

Am I?

I turned the key.

There was no delay, no hesitation—the engine instantly started, faster than I had ever heard it. It buzzed alive loudly, the sawing of the engine pinging out like a shockwave through the complete stillness of the empty world, tearing and dominating the landscape like a sewing machine brought to life in a violent gnarl of angry, mashing metal teeth.

"Henry, it worked!" I shouted over the noise, clapping my hands. "It worked! We're still—"

I looked over.

Henry was doubled over in the passenger seat, hands over the sides of his head, eyes squeezed tight and mouth soundlessly open. I caught a flash of movement in the rearview mirror—the Caretaker flailed and bounced on the backseat, mitten-hands covering his head as he writhed back and forth in what looked like...

Pain.

I instantly reached for the key to shut the Civic off.

They both suddenly came out of it, right at the same time. Henry slumped in his seat, body relaxing as he panted heavily. A bead of sweat rolled down his face. The Caretaker also relaxed, laying spread flat out on the backseat.

"Oh my God, Henry, are you okay?"

He groaned, leaning forward and holding his head. "Head... hurts. I don't know what that was." He leaned back, eyes closed but not squinting in pain. "It's getting better, though."

The Caretaker was also settling back down. His eyes were still super-wide and freaked out though, as he clutched tightly to the Starbucks cup.

"Holy crap, Henry, you scared me. Are you sure you're alright?"

He looked at me, the corner of his mouth slowly turning up until his mouth broke open into that big, beautiful smile, his eyes doing the opposite and squinting and closing more and more the bigger his smile grew.

I melted.

"I'm okay," he said. Then his brow furrowed. "Ava, what's wrong with the Steed?"

It took me a second. "Henry, I still don't know where the heck you learned—"

Then I noticed it.

The engine was running high.

It was like if my foot was very lightly resting on the accelerator—the engine was buzzing and revving higher than usual. The needle on the big gauge labeled "RPM" hovered over the big "3."

It usually rested a couple notches under the "1."

"I have no idea," I said, raising my voice to be heard over the engine. "It's never done that before."

But I did know one thing it meant—

The Civic would be using more gas.

And looking down at the fuel gauge, we only had half a tank left.

"Ready?" I said to Henry. He gave me that smile again, nodding his head.

I slowly let my foot off the brake.

The Civic gently rolled forward, as smooth and easy as if we were back home on a street. The Caretaker immediately hopped up, going back and forth between the windows.

"Here we go," I said eagerly, a big smile on my face and butterflies in my stomach...but the good kind. It was so weird—in that moment, I forgot where we were, what had happened, everything. Instead, I felt what I always felt when I was a little kid and my parents were loading me and Sean into the car for a trip out of town—

Excitement.

That excited, eager feeling of going on an adventure. Those trips had always started for me as a journey into the unknown, a journey where—in my limited childish understanding—anything and everything could happen.

The journey into infinite possibilities.

And for the first time since this whole thing had started, I felt...

Okay.

And I was more than good with that.

Henry's smile was even bigger than mine as I lightly pressed the accelerator, cautiously, building up a little speed. I rolled down the back windows, and the Caretaker bounced back and forth, sticking his head out of the window and then running to the other one, the Starbucks cup forgotten.

I didn't have to understand him or hear him like Henry did to know how he was feeling.

"He wants to know why you never talk." Henry said suddenly.

"Huh?" I responded, broken out of my reverie.

"The Caretaker," Henry said. "He thinks you're a little... slow?"

"What the heck?" I turned around, waving my hand in the backseat at the Caretaker. "Like, hello, I've been talking this entire time! Hello!"

The Caretaker cocked his head.

"He thinks you're my pet," Henry said. There was something odd in his voice, and when I looked at him, he was...

Holding back laughter?

"Oh my god, Henry," I said, trying to hold back my own smile. "Are you laughing at me?

He straightened up, concentrating as he made his face as serious as he could. "Of course not."

"Uh-huh," I said. "And what did you tell him?"

Henry turned away to look out the broken passenger window, his face peaceful and in bliss, his beautiful smile returning as he watched the bright, blue sky roll by above the soft, green ground.

"That you're my angel."

Aw.

The following silence was the most comfortable and peaceful one I think I've ever felt in my life. Usually I feel super awkward when the conversation stops, and I frantically rack my brain for something, anything to talk about or say... but with Henry it was so different.

Whether we were talking, or just sitting next to each other in complete and total silence, it always felt...

Perfect.

Henry pointed a little to the left in front of us. "That way."

"Are you sure?"

"No. But he is."

The first feelings of nervousness began to tingle in my stomach as I slightly turned the wheel. "Where, Henry? Where is he taking us? Where are we going?"

Henry's brow furrowed for a few moments—I assume he was listening to the Caretaker. Finally he responded, his voice apprehensive.

"It's safe, I think," Henry said. "He's taking us to where the Path is... he's taking us to the Edge."