“Are you okay?”
I glanced at Kyle. He was staring at me over the warden’s shoulder. “I think I’m the one who should be asking you that,” I said.
“I’ll be fine.”
He shifted his weight and I caught a glimpse of the bloodstains on his shirt. How could he be strong enough to stand there and touch the woman responsible?
I stared at Sinclair and a wave of hatred swelled in my chest at the thought of all the pain she had caused. She didn’t deserve to come out of this unscathed. I wasn’t even sure she deserved to come out of this alive. In the end, it didn’t matter what her original intention had been, what she had done at Thornhill had been pure evil. It . . .
Before I could finish the thought, the doors at the back of the auditorium swung open with a bang.
Hank strode into the building and across the room. An excited murmur swept the crowd as the Eumon teens recognized him. Every single wolf—whether they knew who he was or not—got out of his way.
A knot that I hadn’t been aware of unclenched in my chest. I was oddly . . . relieved to see him. Not just because we needed him to get out of here—though that was part of it—but because I was glad he was all right.
Though he did look decidedly worse for wear. His face was streaked with what looked like ash and his clothes were bloodstained. As he got closer, I noticed several tears in his shirt that looked suspiciously like bullet holes.
He jumped lithely onto the stage and gave me a quick once-over. “You all right?”
I nodded.
Hank hesitated, like he wanted to say or do something else, but then he turned to face the wolves. “Listen up because I won’t repeat this: We proceed to the gates en masse. The warden goes last. No one lays a finger on a guard or any reg in camp and no one stops for any reason. No matter what you see, you keep going. Is that clear?”
No one spoke and no one moved.
“Is that clear?” Hank’s voice tore through the hall like a thunderbolt.
“Yes!” said the wolves in unison. A few even added “sir” at the end.
“Once you’re through the gates, you’ll be told where to go and what to do. If something happens and you get separated, just head for the gates.”
As soon as he finished speaking, I drew him to the side. “Serena?”
“She’s all right. We got them out of the detention block in time.”
“In time for what?” I asked, but my father had already turned to confer with Kyle.
Sinclair stared at Hank as though he were a code she could crack. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ll bring down on yourself and your pack if you go through with this?”
Hank let out a low, dangerous laugh. “Your concern is touching given that you tried to frame me and mine for murder.”
Sinclair’s hair swished against Kyle’s cheek as she shook her head. “After today, there won’t be anywhere in the country where you’ll be safe. You have to know that. Whatever you think you’re accomplishing here, it’s not worth it.”
Hank took a step toward her. For a moment, he did nothing but stare as a blush darkened the warden’s pale cheeks. “That girl you tried to have killed, the one standing a few feet to your left? She’s my daughter. You say anything else before we get to the gate and, deal or not, I’ll let those kids down there tear you apart.”
He stepped off the stage and headed to the door as the wolves in the auditorium fell into a clumsy swarm behind him. “Remember: no stopping, no engaging the regs.”
Kyle steered Sinclair to the dais stairs and I followed. “What about the program coordinators and the guards inside?” I asked. My gaze locked on the woman with the glasses. Without entirely realizing it, I curled my hand into a fist.
“We stay here.” The guard with the tattoos was back. “A small group will meet you at the gate and take custody of the warden.”
Sinclair twisted in Kyle’s arms. “None of you have the authority to agree to this.” Her ice-cold gaze locked on the guard. “When the LSRB finds out—”
Kyle pushed her forward. “You heard what he said: not a word until the gate. Besides, I think the last thing you want is for the LSRB to find out what’s been happening here.”
Sinclair looked like she was about to argue, but then thought better of it. It was a good call. Hank didn’t make threats unless he was prepared to follow through.
Outside, it was still night, though the spotlights on the building made it as bright as day. The air smelled of smoke and chemicals—probably from the explosion at the gate.
The ring of guards had pulled back. Most had retreated to a nearby strip of grass. Several had been injured and the infirmary doctor moved among them, trying to help them as best he could.
The injured had gotten off lucky.
Bodies littered the ground like broken toy soldiers. Some were Thornhill guards or staff, but most seemed to be wolves who had stormed the camp as part of the second stage of the breakout.
I tried not to stare too long or too hard at the bodies as I followed Kyle and the warden down a paved path, but I couldn’t stop checking for familiar faces.
I had wanted the breakout. Had pushed for it. No matter what happened, I was partly responsible. I paused and looked down into the sightless eyes of a woman with graying hair and a plump face that was slack in death. She looked like someone’s grandmother. With a pang, I wondered whether or not there was a family waiting for her to come home.
“Casualties were inevitable. We all knew that.” I started at the familiar sound of Jason’s voice.
“That doesn’t make it any better.”
“No,” he said. “I suppose it doesn’t.”
“Serena?”
“Hank said she was near the gate with Eve.”
I let out a deep, relieved breath. It was almost over.
We fell into silence as we walked through the camp. Ahead, the olive and gray uniforms of the Thornhill wolves were a churning mass. I should have felt ecstatic—after all, we had actually done it, we had liberated an entire camp—but all I felt was a bone-deep longing to go home.
I was so lost in thoughts of Hemlock and Tess and how the hell I was going to tell Trey what had happened to Serena, that I didn’t realize Kyle and Sinclair had stopped until I almost collided with them on the edge of the courtyard.
The smell of smoke had been growing steadily stronger and here it became so thick that it coated the back of my throat.
I stared, stunned, as I realized why Kyle had stopped.
The sanatorium was on fire.
Flames stretched out of every window, bathing the courtyard in an orange glow. The roof was completely engulfed. As we watched, part of it caved in, sending a shower of sparks into the night.
I took several steps forward and then tore my gaze away to look at the warden.
A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of Sinclair’s mouth, but her eyes were those of a woman on the verge of weeping.
Hank made his way back to us.
“What happened?” I asked. “You were supposed to bomb the entrance, not the sanatorium.”
I glanced toward the gate to confirm that it was gone and caught sight of a small, dark figure near the admission building. Serena.
She stood in the shadows, but her white tunic and pants made her easy to spot. She seemed completely oblivious to the three hundred wolves streaming out of the camp or the fact that she could join them and walk out of Thornhill. She just stood and watched the sanatorium—watched Willowgrove—burn.
I thought I saw her smile, but I knew it was my imagination: I was too far away to actually see her
