On the other hand, I'd had him on my tail, and as a spy I didn't know which was worse.
The Secret Service was standing guard at the ends of the tunnel, but a small service hatch was open, a cart loaded with trays of food and crates of beverages was waiting to be wheeled on board. Zach walked slowly toward it, and then in a flash he vanished.
For a second I had to blink, but there wasn't a doubt in my mind where he'd gone. The only thing left to wonder…was why.
I could see Bex nearing the end of the tunnel, still keeping her distance from Mr. Solomon. As soon as she left the tunnel and got back reception on her comms unit, she would tell Liz that she had eyes on our teacher. In the distance, the string quartet was playing the same song we'd heard in Ohio, following the same speeches. Steam gushed from the train beside me. I heard the metallic groan of a machine that wouldn't be held back for long.
And I did the only thing I could.
I got on board.
Chapter Nineteen
I learned a lot that day. Like never let Bex pick the snacks during road trip stops. Always bring a spare pair of shoes. And a half hour later, I knew to add one more thing to the list:
Never, ever volunteer to do surveillance on a moving train.
Especially if the train is also occupied by your aunt, one of your best friends (who doesn't exactly know you're there), and thirty-seven members of the United States Secret Service!
The train was seventeen cars of narrow aisle and armed guards, of tight compartments and people high on polling numbers and caffeine. So I lowered my head and squeezed down the aisle and tried not to forget that, when faced with being somewhere you're not supposed to be, rule number one is simple: be someone else.
I picked up the nearest clipboard and moved purposefully down the crowded aisle. The engines squeaked, coming to life. The compartments buzzed. And I kept moving, smiling,
acting like I was thrilled to be a part of history.
Zach could have been anywhere, and judging from his disguise-and-deception abilities so far, he could have been anyone. So I kept pushing my way down the corridor, rocking with the moving train, until one of the interns called to me. "Hey, where are you going?"
"New speech for Peacock," I said, flashing the clipboard and rolling my eyes.
"Oooh," one of the guys said, making a sympathetic face. "Compartment fourteen," he said, pointing to the next car. "Have fun," he mocked, and I knew Macey's cover was still firmly in place as I opened the door to the connecting car.
I eased down the crowded aisle, not knowing what I'd find. But just then I knew I might have made the biggest mistake of my life. Behind me, I heard a very distinct voice coming through the crowd, saying, "Peacock is moving."
I was away from school. And in a disguise. And wearing a very little black dress while my favorite (and only) aunt was coming up behind me!
A door stood on my left, number fourteen. I pressed my ear against it but heard nothing. I tried the handle. Locked. Of course.
"Yes," Abby's voice was saying, growing closer.
I was desperate. I knocked. "Ms. McHenry, are you in there? May I have a word?" I asked, still clinging to my cover.
"Absolutely," Abby said behind me. "A four-hundred- foot perimeter should be more than ample."
I was really desperate. I pulled a bobby pin out of my hair. And tried the lock.
I felt the lock turn just as Abby pushed free of the crowd, and in the next second I was surrounded by darkness.
I felt someone grab for me, but I dodged it.
A hand grabbed my hair—or what it thought was my hair—and pulled the wig free. Abby's voice was louder now—right outside—and inside the tiny compartment everything went still.
There was a faint yellow glow in a small crack beneath the door, and in the light I saw Zach look from the wig and then to me and then back again.
"You aren't supposed to be here, Gallagher Girl." It wasn't playful. It wasn't fun. He wasn't smiling or flirting. He was…Mad.
Mad like I'd never seen him. Mad like I didn't even know he could be. I've always known that Zach was strong (a girl doesn't spar with a guy in P&E for a semester and not figure that out), but right then he was like stone.
The first thing that hit me was the shock. The second…was the anger.
"You're telling me that I shouldn't be here?" I snapped. Sure, my aunt and half the United States Secret Service were probably right outside the door at that moment, and yet I couldn't stop myself,
"It's dangerous," he said.
"In case you haven't noticed, I can take care of myself."
Unfortunately, the train picked that moment to lurch, and despite the best protection-and-enforcement training in the world, I found myself stumbling, falling into Zach's outstretched arms.
I started to pull away, but he held me.
"Shhh," he said as the voices in the hall outside faded for a second.
And then the scariest thing of all happened: Zach looked like he wanted to kiss me…
But he didn't.
He was the same boy who had dipped me movie-style in front of my whole school in the middle of finals week, and yet there we were, crammed together in the dark of a moving train, adrenaline and drizzle hanging all around us, and he didn't make a single move.
"Nice disguise," he told me, smiling at last.
"You too," I said. I thought about that moment—what it meant, how long I wanted it to last, and what I was willing to give up to find the truth. So that's why I added, "It looked even better in Boston."
There are moments in a spy's life when time speeds up, and then there are seconds that last a lifetime. And this… this was one of those instances that seemed to go on for years. In the narrow space, with Zach's arms still wrapped around me and voices still echoing outside, I watched his expression shift from confusion to shock to the look of someone desperate for a plan.