“That’s why Hank wanted me to get in,” Jason added. “He needed someone to give you or Eve the letter and to get you one of those readers.”
I frowned. “Me or Eve?”
Jason nodded. “Whichever one of you I saw first.”
I glanced at the letter. I tried to tell myself that it was stupid to feel hurt and rejected over a folded sheet of paper, but part of me wondered how Eve and I could be interchangeable. How, between us, we hadn’t warranted a single “be careful.”
“He’ll meet the two of you tonight along the western edge of the fence at two thirty. Just pick a spot and disable any HFDs in the way. It should be pretty easy—though I didn’t have a chance to test the instructions. We can do a trial run before curfew. If you want.”
I slid the device back into the case, then slipped the whole thing into my pocket. “How did he know any of this? How did he know there were HFDs in the camp or how to disconnect them?”
“Apparently, one of the women who designed Thornhill’s security system was laid off. Without severance.” A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Revenge really does make the world go round.” He glanced down at his watch. “Ten minutes until lunch. I guess I’d better walk you back in case Sinclair checks up on me.”
He headed to the door and pulled it open.
I grabbed Hank’s letter and shoved it into my pocket. “Jason?”
He turned in the doorway.
I swallowed. “What now?” He stared at me, confused, and I elaborated. “You want me to go, but I’m not leaving without Kyle and Serena. Where does that leave us?”
He stepped outside. I followed.
“What class do you have?”
“The Impact of LS on Society. Classroom D.” He started walking. Uncertainly, I fell into step beside him. “Jason?”
He sighed. “You were right. We can’t leave them here. We have to find a way to get them out.”
“A Tracker who cares about two wolves.” I meant it as a joke, but the words came out soft and without a trace of humor.
“Yeah, well . . .” Jason suddenly had that deer-in-headlights look all boys got when you asked them about their feelings. Staring straight ahead, he said, “Kyle’s my best friend. And Serena . . . Don’t tell anyone, but I’d be kind of pissed if anything happened to her. She’s a pain in the ass, but she grows on you after a while. Like a tumor with really bad fashion sense.”
A small smile crossed my lips at the thought of what Serena would say to the uncompliment. But just as quickly as it came, the smile vanished. She’ll be okay, I told myself, trying to ignore the hitch in my chest. “Jason . . . what if she really is sick?”
“Then we’ll figure something out. We’ll find some way to fix it.” His voice was so confident and matter-of-fact that I almost believed him.
We walked in silence for a moment.
Hank’s letter felt heavy in my pocket and made me think of the one family member who mattered. Who was probably worried sick about me. “Have you . . . did you . . .” My cheeks flushed with guilt as I thought of how I had just run out on my cousin. “Did you call Tess? Does she know where I am?”
“There wasn’t time, and I wouldn’t have known what to say. Sorry,” Jason added, even though he had nothing to apologize for. “Cells are jammed inside the camp and they monitor the calls we make on the landlines, but if I’m here more than a week, I’ll have an afternoon pass. I can call her then. Kyle’s folks, too, if he wants.”
Given that Kyle hadn’t told his parents he was infected or where he was going when he left Hemlock, I was pretty sure he’d be vaguely horrified at the idea of Jason calling them.
We reached Classroom D just as the bell rang. Wolves streamed out of the building, and Jason slipped a hand into his pocket as we were engulfed by the crowd. With a lurch, I wondered if they had given him an HFD. I wondered if he would ever use it.
Before I could figure out how to ask, Kyle stepped outside.
For a second, everything seemed to slow down and a weight was lifted from my chest. He was all right. The late morning sun edged the planes of his face, and the relief in his eyes was so raw it was almost staggering.
Then his gaze slid to Jason and the relief bled away, replaced first by shock and then by something darker. With a pointed glance at me, he turned and walked around the side of the classroom.
“Why do I get the feeling he’s not happy to see me?” asked Jason.
Apprehension coiled in my stomach as we headed after Kyle. Just before rounding the corner of the building, I glanced back. I thought I caught a glimpse of Dex, but then a pair of girls blocked my view—just for a second. When they passed, he was gone.
“Great,” said Kyle as we caught up with him. “I leave Hemlock to keep the two of you safe and now she’s in here pretending to be a wolf and you—what? Beat up a counselor and stole the uniform?”
“I’m actually on staff,” retorted Jason. “They make you buy the outfit, but the benefits include dental.”
I shot him a reproachful look and he shrugged. “I didn’t start it.” To Kyle, he said, “Look, I couldn’t go home knowing Mac was in here. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have tried to get inside if you were in my shoes.” He stared at Kyle, waiting for his anger to crack. When it didn’t, he muttered, “Fine,” and glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet my mentor. If I keep her waiting, she’ll rip me in two without breaking a sweat.”
“Please tell me you’re not talking about Langley,” I groaned.
“Don’t worry. She likes me. She’s cute. Like a pit bull.” He shot an unhappy, frustrated look at Kyle, then glanced back at me. “I’ll try to find you after supper. We can see if Hank’s instructions work.”
Before I could say anything, he was gone.
Kyle shot me a confused look. “He’s been with your father?”
“Apparently, Hank told him how to disable the HFDs and wants me to meet him at the fence tonight with Eve.” I hesitated. “You know it’s good that Jason’s here, right? We have a better chance of finding Serena with him.”
“I know,” Kyle conceded. “I just wasn’t expecting it. I just—why does your shirt smell like lavender?”
I frowned and pressed my nose to the fabric. Great. I smelled like Sinclair. “It’s the warden’s hand cream.” I tried not to shiver. The whole werewolf-sense-of-smell thing still kind of freaked me out. Kyle would probably notice if I changed deodorant brands. “What were you going to say?” I asked in an effort to refocus.
“Nothing.”
“You said, ‘I just . . . ?’”
“It’s nothing, Mac.” A sharp note entered his voice, and I had the sudden feeling that I might not want to know what he had almost said. My gaze dropped to the Thornhill logo on his shirt.
The four of us—me, Jason, Kyle, and Amy—were as knotted and twisted as the vines circling the name of the camp. We were so entwined that it was sometimes hard to know where one of us left off and the others began. Even in death, we couldn’t break free—Amy was proof of that.
I looked up. I used to take comfort in the fact that we were so tangled—it was like a promise the four of us would stay together—but staring into Kyle’s dark eyes and remembering the things Jason had confessed to me in Hemlock, I wondered how much those ties and tangles had changed. What if, instead of merely holding us together, they were choking us? Choking them.
Would I be strong enough to let them go? If I had let Kyle go when he had wanted me to, would any of this be happening now?
For a moment, I could see another Kyle just under the surface: a fourteen-year-old boy who was all elbows and awkward angles with a voice that hadn’t broken yet. Always quiet and often worried. The boy I could tell anything to—memories I’d rather forget and fears I could barely acknowledge.
I would do anything to hold on to that boy. I didn’t think I was strong enough to let him go. “Kyle . . .”
“Of course—because ‘meet behind the auditorium’ i
s too complicated an instruction.” Eve’s voice fell between us like a blade.
I stepped back and tried to rein in my thoughts so they wouldn’t show on my face as I turned and watched her stride toward us.
On the surface, she looked confident, like every worry would bounce off her skin. But her eyes were pinched and she kept rubbing her scarred wrist, circling it with her thumb and forefinger.
“So,” she said, gaze darting between Kyle and me. “What happened?”
16
I SHOVED THE WIRE CUTTERS INTO MY POCKET AND SLID the plastic casing of the HFD back into place.
A sweep of light pierced the darkness in the distance: the flashlight from a guard on patrol. It looked like it was headed away from us, but the sight still sent a trill of fear through me. We had already dodged two patrols on our way here.
I started to climb back down. When I was halfway to the ground, I remembered the reader. I slipped it out and managed to hit the power switch while keeping a grip on the pole with my other hand. Silence. The HFD was down.
“Eve?” My voice was barely a whisper, but I knew she’d hear. “It’s clear.”
I reached for the next rung. My hand, slick with sweat, slid against the metal, and I lost my grip.
The ground and pole blurred together as I fell. I hit the hard-packed earth and all of the breath was forced from my lungs in a whoosh. Dazed, I stared up at the sky. The clouds and stars swirled together like the Van Gogh poster Tess had in her bedroom—what was that painting called?
Eve was speaking to me, but she seemed far away.
Starry Night, I remembered. That’s the painting.
I forced myself to a sitting position.
“I’m not sure you should be moving. You hit the ground like a sack of cement.”
I ran a hand over my skull. Nothing seemed to be dented or leaking. Unsteadily, I climbed to my feet. A sharp burst of pain radiated through each vertebra, but it faded after a moment. I was pretty sure nothing was broken. “I’m okay,” I lied.
I turned to the fence. There was no sign of life on the other side. Hank’s only instruction had been to pick a spot somewhere along the western edge of the camp. We’d headed to the shifting zone and then walked along the fence until we found a spot that seemed like it would be outside the areas the guards patrolled. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”
Eve shrugged. “As long as it takes.” I shot her an exasperated look and she sighed. “He’ll be here. Curtis doesn’t say things without following through.”
My laugh was so sharp and sudden that it was out of my mouth and bouncing off the fence before I could even think about holding it back.
“And here I thought ‘Don’t draw attention to yourselves’ was obvious enough that I didn’t need to include it in the instructions.” Hank materialized out of the darkness on the other side of the fence looking for all the world as though he had recently thrown himself down a ravine. He was wearing a black denim jacket over a ripped black shirt and his black jeans were caked in mud and shredded at the knee.
I almost asked if he was all right, but the words stuck in my throat.
“Curtis!” All of Eve’s swagger and bravado fell away, leaving her looking oddly awkward and young. Words tumbled from her mouth as she approached the fence. “Is the rest of the pack safe? Did you find the Trackers who did it? Please tell me you tore them to pieces.”
Hank ran a hand over what had to be at least two days of stubble. “The club burned to the foundation. Most of us who got out headed for Briar Creek.”
I frowned. “Briar Creek?”
“Ghost town about an hour and a half from of Denver,” explained Eve. “Just a few foundations.”
“Only way there is an old unpaved road,” added Hank. “Harder for anyone to get the drop on us.” The lines on his face deepened as he stared at me. “You shouldn’t be on that side of the fence, kid.”
I shrugged and the gesture elicited a small twinge of pain in my back. “They have my friends. It’s not something I would expect you to understand.”
I could practically feel Eve shoot me a dirty look, but all Hank said was, “Fair enough.”
The words took me aback. The old Hank wouldn’t have let the implied criticism slide.
He slipped something from his pocket and drew his arm back. A small black shape went sailing over the fence. It bounced off the razor wire and landed at Eve’s feet.
A plastic film canister—like the ones that were always lying around the art room at school.
She picked it up and popped the lid. Two pewter charms, each attached to a small length of twine, fell into her palm. She lifted one of the charms and dangled it from her fingertips. It was round and unadorned save for a strange symbol that looked like three interlocking teardrops etched onto the front.
“Keep those on you at all times,” said Hank. “There’s a truck heading into Thornhill tomorrow night. At one thirty a.m., it’ll deliver a load of lumber to a construction site on the east side of camp—dorm fourteen. The guard escorting the truck and the driver will let you stow aboard—after you show them those charms. When the truck leaves, the two of you leave with it.”
Neither Eve nor I spoke. The hum coming off the fence seemed to grow louder, filling the silence until I could feel the vibration in my chest.
Hank wanted to get us out. Both of us. It didn’t make sense. He hadn’t cared about me three years ago, so why care now? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eve drop the charms back into the canister. I shouldn’t have been able to hear the sound they made as they hit the bottom, but I did.
“I’m not going anywhere without Kyle and Serena.”
Eve stepped closer to the fence. “What about the pack? They’re counting on you. I told”—she flexed her hand around the film canister—“I’ve been telling them that you’d think of some way to get us out.”
“I had to practically sell my soul just to make arrangements for the two of you,” said Hank. Then, in a tone that was chillingly matter-of-fact, he added, “They’ll be looking for two girls with those charms. Anyone else approaches that truck and the guard will shoot.”
Eve didn’t back down. “You don’t understand. There are things going on here. Kids are missing—including Eumon kids. Wolves are getting sick and maybe dying. You can’t leave them in here.”
Hank’s eyes flashed. “Even if I could get them out, what do you think would happen if every Eumon disappeared from Thornhill? How long do you think it would take the Trackers or the LSRB to figure out which pack was behind it?” He paused, letting her think it through. Then, each syllable the lash of a whip, he said, “They would wipe us out.”
“So that’s it?” I asked. This side of Hank was familiar. He had stopped pretending and was back to being someone I understood. “You don’t care what happens to them in here.”
He turned his gaze on me. His eyes burned like blue flame, and even though he had never raised a hand to me, I was suddenly glad he was on the other side of a very large, very deadly fence. I had seen my father look at other people that way; the results were never good.
Eve, meanwhile, seemed to disappear inside herself. She stood eerily still, like a living statue. Finally, she said, “You could work with the other packs. The Carteron leader’s daughter is here. If she knew, she’d join with you. The Portheus pack might follow. You could try to take out the whole camp. If you did that, they wouldn’t know who to strike back at. Even the Trackers wouldn’t be crazy enough to retaliate against all three packs.”
“No.”
That was it. One word without explanation or apology.
“The pack will mutiny if they find out you got me out and left the others in here.”
Something shifted behind my father’s eyes. He looked at Eve the way he had looked at me three years ago when he told me he was going out for a pack of cigarettes.
“He’s not going to tell the pack, Eve.”
“They’re not stupid,” she said, and I wasn
’t sure if it was me or Hank she was addressing. “They’ll figure it out. They’ll know I didn’t get out on my own.”
Despite the start we had gotten off to, I suddenly felt sorry for her. I had never had any illusions about my father, but I knew how painful it was to discover someone you trusted was a stranger. “He’ll get you out of here, but you won’t be going back to the Eumon.” I glanced at Hank. “Right?”
“There’s a pack in Atlanta. They’re expecting her.”
“I won’t go.”
“Atlanta is nonnegotiable.”
Eve stared at my father as though seeing him for the first time. “I’m not talking about Atlanta. I won’t leave Thornhill knowing I abandoned the others.”
Hank clenched and unclenched his right hand. It was too dark to see the network of scars crisscrossing his knuckles, but for a second, I imagined they shone white. “Do you think this chance is going to come again? Half the wolves in there would—” He suddenly turned.
A half second later, I heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching engine.
“Patrol’s early.” Hank cursed and glanced back at us. “Get to your dorm. Both of you will be on that truck tomorrow. One thirty a.m. No discussion.”
A jeep roared into view. Instinctively, I dropped to the ground, trying to make myself as small as possible as headlights swept the air. Next to me, Eve had the same idea.
After a handful of seconds, I raised my head just enough to see what was going on. Hank was running away from the fence. As I watched, he crumpled and began to shift.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.
Hank’s bones shattered and his muscles snapped. His spine bowed and his mouth opened in a silent scream.
Time slowed down as his body tore itself to pieces. When it was over, a wolf with fur the color of ash mixed with snow stood in his place and everything became a thousand times more real: My father was infected.
Bullets sent up a spray of dirt near the wolf’s paws and time snapped back.
My stomach lurched, but the wolf was a faster and smaller target than the man had been. It—Hank, I reminded myself—dodged the jeep and raced into the night.
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