awake listening to Maude and Bruce snore in unison. Dorian is in the bunk next to me. He turns over, mutters something, and restlessly kicks and coughs. Silas and Song are silent.
I throw my legs over the side of my bunk. The stone floor is biting cold. I put on my socks, my pants, and within seconds, I’m dressed and out the door.
The cabins, outbuildings, and main house are dark, but no sooner have I stepped onto the graveled pathway than a floodlight illuminates the area.
A girl carrying a gun confronts me. She doesn’t point the weapon, just blocks my way. “Where are you going?” she asks. She steps closer. “Oh, you’re one of the new ones. Someone should’ve told you that you’re supposed to stay in at night.”
“I didn’t know,” I say, trying to sound dense.
“Well, you do now,” she says.
“Where are Abel and Quinn?” I ask.
She glances at the main house. “Abel’s probably in his old room. I don’t know Quinn,” she says, and gestures at my cabin with her gun.
I walk back slowly, and when she heads in the opposite direction, I sprint toward the main house and slam my body against it. The floodlights go out, and I am in darkness.
I skirt along the edge of the house feeling for a way in, but every door is locked. I turn a corner and the guard is there, sitting on a bench reading an old paper book by flashlight. She looks up briefly, waves the light this way and that, then returns to her reading. Another guard appears from a door behind her.
“That time already?” she says, slipping the book into her jacket and stretching.
“You can do my shift if you like,” the other one says. They laugh. “Any probs?”
“Pretty quiet. I found one of the newbies wandering around, but she went back to bed.”
“Which one?”
“The one Maks has his eye on. I wouldn’t like to be her.”
“Really? Oh, I would.” They laugh again and saunter toward the annex chatting. They activate the floodlight and the whole area is awash in light. I watch them go and try not to think about what it means that I’ve caught Maks’s notice.
The door the guard came through is open, and the guards are less than fifty feet away and making their way back. I hurry across the courtyard and almost break my neck tumbling through the open door and down a couple of uneven steps.
I scramble to my feet and scamper along a hallway to another door. It opens with a warning creak. I duck as I go through. Beyond it is a wider hallway with a series of doors on either side, and I creep along, examining the signs above them:
I kneel and press my ear against the keyhole waiting for the sound of movement or a recognizable voice. The house remains wrapped in silence. I check the next door. Nothing. So I keep going, trying each door and waiting a few moments before moving on. By the time I’ve reached the end of the hallway, I’ve tried twenty doors. I stand with my back against the wall, feeling suddenly foolish. How did I think I’d find anyone?
I pick my way back down the hallway when I hear glass shattering. I stand rigid, waiting for an alarm to ring, then think better of it and sprint down the hallway and away. I round a corner and before I can stop, I yelp and clatter into someone running in the opposite direction. We both end up on the floor, but I jump up first and hold my fists ready. The person looks up and repositions his facemask.
“Quinn?”
“Alina?”
I pull him to his feet. “What are you doing in Sequoia?”
“Looking for you,” he whispers. He looks like he’s about to hug me, but changes his mind. “Jazz had a bad fall. We have to go and help her.”
“Jazz?” I can’t believe it. The Grove was falling in on itself when we left it, and Jazz had climbed into the trees covered in toxic foam.
“Yes,” he says hurriedly. Someone coughs in a room near us, and Quinn gestures with his hand for me to follow him. We tiptoe down the hallway and slink into a room.
He points to the floor where shards of glass glisten. “Be careful. I knocked the stool over and the water glass went flying.” The curtains have been drawn and the moon is barely illuminating the room through the clouds. A bed is tucked into the corner and next to it a stool is lying on its side. The window is wide open and a raking breeze makes the curtains flap and smack against the wall.
“What’s going on?” I point at the open window.
“I was searching for a way out. Thought I’d be less likely to be seen this way. Turns out I might die, though.” I follow him to the window. We look over the ledge. The room is three floors above a stone path. “We have to leave,” he says. He looks like he hasn’t slept or eaten in a long time, nothing like the person I met in the vaccination line weeks ago. How can so much have changed so quickly? It hardly seems possible.
“Where’s Bea?”
“She’s keeping Jazz safe. Is Silas here? Do you think he’d come with us? We’ll need him.”
My throat relaxes. “I knew Bea would make it,” I say.
“Well, she’ll be a goner if we don’t get to her soon. So will Jazz.” He looks out the window like he’s considering jumping. I lead him to the bed, where I make him sit and tell me everything, from the moment he left The Grove until he arrived in Sequoia. He speaks quickly, skipping important details, so I have to keep making him go back and explain more.
“So can we go now?” he says finally.
“Maybe Vanya will help,” I say.
He scratches his head. “I tried to tell her earlier and she just smiled. There’s something rotten behind that smile, Alina. After the way Petra treated me, I’m not taking any chances.”
I try to reassure him. “We’ll speak to her again tomorrow.”
“What is this place? I haven’t seen one tree,” he says. A few weeks ago he never would have noticed. If Quinn can change, maybe anyone can.
“We aren’t sure what’s going on, but the pod’s looking like an option,” I say, and laugh.
Quinn stares at me. “Is that a joke?” he asks.
I shake my head, because actually, it isn’t. “I promise we’ll convince Vanya to do something,” I repeat.
“What about
“Does she have air and water?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says, “but—”
“It’s just one night,” I tell him, even though one night is all it would take for everything to turn into a catastrophe.
I go to the door. “How did you meet Abel?” I ask, turning the handle.
“By chance. Do you know him?”
“Kind of. Is he the baby’s father?”
“Jo said he wasn’t. Why?” A wave of relief rushes over me, followed by shame for even caring when there are so many other, more important things to worry about.
The lights are still out in the main house. I inch along the hallway and as I am about to descend a level, there’s a scuffling.
“You’re hurting me,” a voice says. Cautiously, I lean over the banister and make out the tops of two heads. It’s Maks and Jo. She’s trying to break free of his grip. “Vanya put me in another room. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“You humiliated me,” he snarls. Jo shrinks into herself.
“Please let me sleep on my own, Maks,” she says.
“And how can I be sure you won’t have run off by morning? You think I’m gonna let you out of my sight again? You’re coming with me.”
“I’m not your property,” she says, wrenching her arm from him and backing away. She’s barefoot and wearing only a light, white nightshirt.
