Soulprint by Megan Miranda

Author:Megan Miranda
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2015-03-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Casey keeps glancing at us in the rearview mirror, but Cameron is still staring out the window. “Can you think of anyone who would take us in? Keep quiet? Do you trust anyone?” Casey asks.

“Casey, even if I did trust any of them—which I don’t—there’s not a single person who wouldn’t turn me in for a million dollars.”

“Your parents?” I ask, and by the way Cameron’s mouth twists, I quickly realize that was the wrong thing to say.

“Don’t think of people,” Cameron says. “They’re unpredictable.” He looks at me quickly, like it’s a bad thing.

“Don’t lump all humanity into the category of Ella,” Casey says, ignoring him.

But Cameron gives her a look. He leans his head back on the seat cushion. “The way to stay hidden is to not go anywhere you’d be expected. And to keep moving. Which means don’t think. Tell me, what do we need?”

“Internet access,” Casey says without hesitation.

“Who’s Ella?” I ask.

“Ex-girlfriend. Spawn of Satan,” Casey says, but Cameron makes no indication that he’s heard either of us.

“We also need food,” Cameron adds.

“Running water would be awesome,” Casey says.

And since I guess he’s not going to answer my Ella question, I switch gears. “Someplace deserted.”

“It’s the summer,” Cameron says, and he’s nodding to himself. “We need,” he says, “a school.”

I’ve never seen a school, other than on TV. My school has always been held remotely, on a television. I watch lectures streamed from colleges. I have a room full of textbooks. I take online tests and complete practice work with answers I can check against a key afterward. Technically, I’m homeschooled. Technically, I earned my high school diploma two years ago. Technically, I’m a sophomore in college.

Not that I’ve ever been to one of those, either.

“Keep to the back roads,” Cameron says as we approach an intersection.

We pass a few stores as we keep to said back roads: country shops with small areas out front or to the side for parking—and I wonder if these, too, have video feed. “Head down, Alina,” he says, and I quickly listen, staring at the floor. “Just in case.”

I don’t know if the periodic sound of helicopter blades in the distance is a normal occurrence, but it keeps my nerves on edge. From the way Cameron has his fists clenched in his lap, I’m guessing it’s doing the same to him.

Casey turns the radio on, flipping from station to station, bypassing every song. After seven random turns on the road and what feels like an eternity of flipping stations, Casey lands on a news report.

“… three days since the elaborate escape of Alina Chase from her protection detail. To recap, she is believed to be traveling with nineteen-year-old Casey London. It is not yet known how they are connected. Photos taken at the scene also show a media intern registered under an alias. Authorities believe that he is the eighteen-year-old brother of Casey, Cameron London, who has previously served time in a juvenile correction facility for auto theft and

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