The Collection by Shannon Stoker Page A

Riley asked. “On foot? Dragging Dalmy along with you?”
    â€œI’ll get a car too,” Mia said.
    â€œCan you drive?”
    â€œI’ve driven before,” Mia said.
    She left out the part about not knowing what she was doing and the car running out of gas. Riley’s eyes looked like daggers in the moonlight.
    â€œBy lying to me you’re only hurting yourself,” Riley said.
    â€œI’m not lying,” Mia said. “It might not have gone so well though. I can make Carter or Andrew drive.”
    â€œWhat if they’re not capable?” Riley asked. “You need this planned out to perfection for it to work.”
    â€œI don’t know,” Mia said. “Can you teach me?”
    â€œTo drive?” Riley asked.
    Mia nodded. “You must have some kind of computer program.”
    She welcomed a chance to switch up their current routine. Riley’s daggers faded and a coy smile went across her face.
    â€œI have something better,” she said.
    Riley turned around and started walking through their small wooded area away from the cabin. Mia did her best to keep up; she was more interested in avoiding stepping on a bug or getting smacked with a branch, so she didn’t notice when Riley stopped walking and Mia almost ran right into her.
    â€œLittle notice next time . . .” Mia’s complaints faded away when she looked up.
    Sitting in the clearing was a vehicle, or at least the shell of one. Mia walked around the car. It had no roof and was high up off the ground. There were no doors and the paneling on the sides was missing.
    â€œIt’s a jeep,” Riley said. “A run-down one at that.”
    â€œHow did you—”
    â€œI found it abandoned about two kilometers north of here,” Riley said. “I waited a week and nobody came back for it. It wouldn’t start though, so I took my time pushing it back this way.”
    â€œWhy is it so destroyed?” Mia asked.
    â€œIt broke down, so they took what they could from it and left it in the desert,” Riley said.
    â€œDoes it start now?” Mia asked.
    â€œGive it a try,” Riley said.
    Mia climbed up into the driver’s seat. She remembered starting her father’s car and felt around for the keys.
    â€œWhere are the keys?” Mia asked.
    Riley gave her a frown.
    â€œCars haven’t used keys in decades,” Riley said.
    â€œHow does it start then?”
    Riley walked over. Mia climbed across the center console and into the passenger seat. There was a single white button in the middle of the dashboard. Riley used her thumb to press it down and a light hum came over the vehicle.
    â€œBut won’t people steal it this way?” Mia asked. “And the engine is so quiet.”
    â€œThe buttons are normally fingerprint coded,” Riley said. “I’m guessing not all military-style ones have this feature, because A, it’s probably not traveling alone a whole lot, and B, multiple militia members need to drive it. Or option C: when the electrical panel in this thing fried it rebooted the fingerprint code.”
    Mia watched as Riley’s hand moved down the dashboard. There was another panel with four buttons. She went over each of their purposes.
    â€œDrive, reverse, harsh terrain, and inclement weather. You really only need the first two.”
    â€œWhat was that for?” Mia pointed at a space in the dash where something had been ripped out.
    â€œSelf-driving system,” Riley said. “It looks like the militia wanted to keep that one.”
    â€œThe car can drive itself?”
    â€œPlug in a destination and it will take you there,” Riley said.
    Riley pushed the first button and the car moved forward. She was using her feet to accelerate the jeep. Once they were out of the branches the moonlight lit up the desert. Mia was overwhelmed by the beauty of the place. The car sped up and Mia’s hair flapped