The Art of Saving the World

is what?”
“You need to learn that for yourself. There are guidelines, I’m afraid.”
“So we’re supposed to save the world,” Rainbow said, “while . . . ignoring the out-of-control rip between dimensions that’s destroying it?”
“Yes.”
“Can you give us a hint?” I tried.
“No.”
“You have a lot of rules,” I said.
“No,” she said, “but the Powers That Be do.”
“Can you tell us about them?”
“No. Find the girl. The rest comes after.”
“But the MGA is coming for her, too. They have helicopters and a head start. She’ll be long gone by the time we arrive.”
“You’ve not even started and you’re ready to give up?”
A reply faltered on my tongue.
“Is it really necessary to find her?” Red asked. “Your—my—our parents and the government wouldn’t hurt her. Right?”
I wondered whether we were thinking the same thing: that we wished we’d been let off the hook, too. It sounded at once cowardly and tempting. If Hazel Four could sit at home and wait all this out, more power to her. With the farm no longer in meltdown, the MGA would treat her better than they had Red and Rainbow.
“She’s here. She’s involved already.” Neven rolled from her side onto her belly. “The Powers sent you for a reason.”
“Do tell,” Rainbow said.
Neven didn’t answer.
“I wonder what the MGA wants with Hazel Four,” Red said. “Simple damage control, grabbing whatever comes from the rift?”
“They’ll want to experiment in case she’s linked to the rift, too,” I said. “Since the rift’s behavior changed—”
“Experiment?” Red wore a concerned frown.
“Nothing bad,” I said quickly. “Practical tests. Like, they’d escort me in a van or chopper and measure the rift’s response based on how far away I was or how long I stayed there. They took blood and hair to keep near the rift as a potential substitute. They did similar tests on Mom and Carolyn to see if it was genetic. For a year, I wore various sensors and kept a diary to see if my mental or physical state affected the rift. Things like that.”
“That’s a lot.” Rainbow blinked.
“It doesn’t sound like they’ll harm her,” Red said.
“Of course not. Oh!” Finally, it dawned on me. “If they want to experiment, they’ll study her effect on the rift. Which means they won’t bring her home—”
“They’ll take her to the rift.” Rainbow spun to face Neven. “And you said you could sense its location.”
Neven’s reptilian mouth twitched. “Go get those coats.” She lumbered up, slow and deliberate, but her eyes were alert. Like she’d been waiting for this. “You’ll need them.”
Rainbow and I went to the store while Red stayed with Neven. We didn’t need anyone boggling at a set of triplets. I rubbed my arms as we walked by the side of the road, eager for the heat the truck stop would provide. I kept sneaking sideways glances at Rainbow.
Once or twice, I swore she sneaked glances right back at me.
“So,” she said, “this is weird.”
I snort-laughed. “Just a bit.”
“You really never knew?”
“Which part?”
“Neven. Chosen One. You being special.”
Special? Another laugh. “I knew the rift was connected to me; hard not to. But not this. Nothing like this.” I hesitated. “I don’t think I really believe it yet.”
“Me neither.” Rainbow laughed, too. Hers sounded more comfortable than mine, more natural. She even walked differently. There was a confidence in her stride that wasn’t just from her clunky, tough boots. It stood out all the more in comparison to Red.
It probably stood out in comparison to me, too, if anyone saw us walking together. I tried to straighten my back and lengthen my strides, but felt silly more than anything else.
How could Rainbow be me? I couldn’t even work up the courage to cut my hair to my shoulders.
The doors slid open on our approach, and a jingle sounded. It startled me before I made the connection: motion sensors. Right. Those were a thing.
The clerk peered over his Nintendo Switch, nodded, and went back to gaming before I could nod back.
“It smells different,” I said, squinting at the overhead lights.
“What do you mean?”
“Inside. I thought it’d smell like gasoline, like outside, but I guess that doesn’t make sense.”
Refrigerated sandwiches in one corner caught my eye. The thought of walking up to the display, selecting any food I wanted, and placing it on the counter was captivating. The clerk wouldn’t even know. He’d think it was something I did all the time.
“You’ve never been inside a truck stop.” Rainbow stared at me.
“There aren’t any in my radius.” I trailed the aisles, touching a box of chocolates and a stuffed bear holding a Get Well Soon! card. “No stores at all. Well, the mini-golf course sells key chains in the sign-up office.”
“Christ.”
“Girl meets world.” I smiled crookedly. “Sorry. We should be hurrying. Let’s look for clothes.”
“You’d mentioned you couldn’t go beyond a mile, but—”
“Mile and a half,” I said, wincing at how the correction flopped out. That extra half mile meant West Asherton High and Franny’s Food, though. It meant an awful lot.
Rainbow was still staring. “I just hadn’t really thought about it yet.”
“Let’s look for . . .” My words faltered as I caught sight of a TV screen above the clerk. The news was playing on mute.
BIZARRE EVENTS IN PHILADELPHIA, the bottom of the screen read. It showed shaky footage of what had to be the rift, shot from at least two blocks away.
Hazel Four arriving in Philadelphia meant the rift had reached the city. Apparently, it hadn’t left yet.
The TV cut to a reporter interviewing bystanders near a massive green suspension bridge—the Walt Whitman Bridge, it had to be—with a crescent-shaped chunk of road missing. The edges were so clean the asphalt looked as though it had been excised by a scalpel. Below, the Delaware churned with debris.
This was the rift’s doing. My rift’s doing. Goose bumps crept across my skin. As much damage as the rift could do on an isolated West Ash farm, it’d be nothing compared to now, leaping around a city of more than a million inhabitants.
“Found something,”