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“Dude, I just gave you sixty bucks. Where’s my change?”
    For just a second, there was annoyance and disbelief on the old man’s face. But then it was like something passed through his field of vision: his eyes momentarily lost focus and his pupils got all big. He shook his head once, sharply, like he’d just dozed off, and then opened the cash register. He handed me ten bucks.
    â€œMy mistake,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “Thank you for your patronage, son. Be careful out there.”
    I managed to play it cool until we were outside the store. Then I turned to Cass, wide-eyed and grinning. “Dude, I can’t believe you can do that! It’s amazing!”
    â€œDude,” she repeated, deadpan, her hand dropping away from her face. She’d been pinching the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I guess it’s pretty cool.”
    â€œDid it actually work?” Amanda asked. She’d gotten out of the car and was peering at a bulletin board posted outside the trading post.
    I pushed my cowboy hat down on my head and tipped the brim toward her. “What does it look like?”
    â€œLike maybe I should be in charge of making our shopping list, so we end up with more than goofy hats and bongs.”
    â€œIt was just a test run! Now that we know the psychic credit card—no offense, Cass—is working, we can get serious about our supplies.” I paused. “What do you even pack for breaking into a government quarantine zone?”
    â€œI’ve got some ideas,” Amanda replied. She started back toward the car, but first jerked her thumb at the bulletin board. “Maybe that explains why this place is so creepy.”
    I took a closer look at the board. It was absolutely covered with MISSING notices. Almost all of them were teenagers and almost all of their disappearances had taken place within the last six months. But the one thing every flier had in common? Every missing face was last seen somewhere in Iowa.
    â€œHow is this not national news?” I exclaimed, glancing over at Cass. “You NCD people must have hella good PR dudes.”
    Cass didn’t look all that interested in the bulletin board. She still lingered on the sidewalk in front of the shop, a distant look on her whiter-than-usual face. I thought about how she’d fainted after using her psychic hoodoo back in Illinois and worried she might be about to pass out or something. As soon as I took a step toward her, she snapped out of it.
    â€œEverything okay?”
    â€œYeah,” she replied, keeping her voice quiet, probably so Amanda wouldn’t overhear. “I’d just never done that before.”
    I squinted at her. “What’re you talking about? I’ve known you for like three days and I’ve already seen you straight knock people out with brainpower.”
    â€œNo, what I mean—I’ve never done it like that before. For personal gain, you know? Breaking the law.”
    â€œAh,” I replied sagely, catching on. “With great power comes great responsibility.”
    â€œSpider-Man. I know that one,” Cass said, smiling a little.
    â€œSo,” I started tentatively, turning the pipe over in my hands, a symbol of our ill-gotten telepathic gains. “Is this going to be weird for you? Because we can just steal shit the old-fashioned way. You don’t have to help if this, like, violates the psychic code or something. I get it.”
    â€œThere’s no code,” Cass replied, staring down at her feet. “It’s nothing like that. I just—” She sighed and looked up at me. “I kinda liked it, okay? Does that make me a bad person?”
    I tried not to laugh. This girl had messed with just one old man’s brain and was now asking me—a guy who’d literally messed, as in, smeared on my face, more than a couple brains—my thoughts on morality.
    â€œI’m probably not the