Free Your Planet or Mine? by Susan Grant

car lengths ahead, and she must be going sixty or seventy, at least. Concentrate. Stay between the lines . Jana wanted to barf from nerves. All that held her back was the thought of soiling someone else’s car.
    “Foot off the fuel pedal slightly,” Cavin said. “Now…right turn.”
    She did as he said.
    “Accelerate.”
    As Cavin calmly issued directions, the Lexus wove in and out of the slower cars, making them look as if they were standing still. By now, they were almost to downtown Sacramento. The fog was even thicker here. She was driving almost completely blind. On the plus side, if she couldn’t see anyone then no one could see her. Except the assassin.
    To calm herself, she counted backward from ten, found it too complicated and stopped. Stay under the radar, keep a low profile . Only hours ago she’d promised her grandfather exactly that. “Snow,” she whispered. “Virgin snow.”
    “Snow?” Cavin peered outside into the fog. “It is forty-six-point-two of your degrees outside. That is too warm for the precipitation to freeze.”
    Jana decided against an explanation. It was all she could do to concentrate on staying in her lane and pray this nightmare came to an end soon. “Where’s the assassin now?”
    “He lost us, it seems.”
    Jana shot him an outraged look. “Why didn’t you say so?”
    “Because your local law enforcement vehicles have been redoubling their efforts to catch us.”
    Her heart tumbled. “What?”
    “Left—now!” Cavin shouted.
    She swerved into the left lane, but not before she almost clipped a police car. By the time she managed a small scream, the police car’s flashing lights had disappeared in the fog.
    “Cavin, we almost hit a police car!” An image of its two occupants’ startled faces burned in her mind.
    “Exit here.”
    “Why?” Jana asked even as she obeyed his order.
    “The police have formed a roadblock ahead. They’ve an array of weapons aimed at us. And they’ve thrown spikes in the road that will tear apart these tires and cripple the vehicle.”
    Jana’s stomach ached. Her head throbbed, and her throat was dry. “But the police will recognize this car. If the fog clears, we’re done.” And she’d get to explain it all during the arrest. Yet, even if she could talk her way out of any blame, how could she leave Cavin to take the fall? She couldn’t. He was Peter, first of all, and they shared some sort of bizarre bond that was as powerful now as it was decades ago. He looked too human for anyone to believe he was an alien, and the gee-whiz tech he had on him would only get the military involved, the FBI, CIA, DIA, DHS, too, and every other acronym-laden organization in existence. By morning, he’d be on his way to an undisclosed mental facility, where he’d “disappear” and she’d be on her way to the front page of the Sacramento Sun . The headline scrolled across the back of her eyes: Can We Trust Them? Jaspers Continue Downhill Slide. She grimaced.
    “Here, Jana—stop!”
    She fishtailed to a stop at the bottom of the entry ramp.
    Several old cars were parked along a gritty street. Across the road was a bar with no name and a neon sign that said Cocktails. Fog drifted in cottony strands, muting the letters. “That one,” he said, pointing to an old Chevy decked out in green and purple iridescent paint.
    Jana eyed their new target dispassionately. Her lack of upset over stealing another car was a testament to how shell-shocked she was.
    Before abandoning the Lexus, she grabbed her purse and the sticky grocery bag. At the bottom of a puddle of thick melted ice cream and the little chocolate fish she’d never get to eat but no longer had the appetite for, she found the receipt and shoved it in her purse. Now the only evidence left behind would be a squishy Safeway bag and a container of Phish Food.
    Cavin took her hand and they ran across the street. The pavement was cold, and her feet were freezing. A flick of his wrist and the