Resist

“Get back here, you stupid cow,” one of the men hollers. The others hoot.

I jump over broken chairs and overturned tables, smashed plates and glasses, and when I get to the kitchen door, push on it. I expect it to swing open, but it doesn’t budge. Something’s blocking it on the other side. I scan the restaurant. There’s no other hiding place or way out unless I dive off the balcony. I find a broken bottle and hold it by the neck as the men saunter in, their eyes gleaming.

Earl swings his baseball bat, and they all grin. He comes closer and I try dodging him, but he’s quicker than the man with the pitchfork. He leaps at me and knocks me to the ground. Earl pulls me up straight using my hair. His face is flecked with scars and his thinning hair is greasy and matted. “Annoying,” he says, “but comely. What do you think, Getty?”

The man with the pitchfork throws down his weapon and steps up. “She’ll do,” he says. He unbuttons my coat and ogles me.

Brent shuffles forward. “Dibs on her airtank,” he says, loosening it from its belt.

“Leave that ’til we’re finished,” Getty says, shoving him.

I try to thrash free, but when I do, Earl, who’s standing behind me, pulls my hair harder. “Settle down,” he croaks.

It’s obvious what these savages are planning, and I can’t endure it. Anything but this. Anything.

I whimper, wishing I’d let Ronan shoot them. Where is he now? And where’s Quinn?

Getty holds my face next to his, and licks my cheek. Even through the mask I can smell his rotten breath. I cry out, and they laugh. “Please don’t,” I say, looking into his eyes, but he’s too far gone to see my humanity.

He throws off his heavily stained jacket and scrapes his finger along my collarbone. “I’m first,” he says. And I decide, in that moment, that I will shut down and think of Quinn and my parents and Maude and anything else that is not this, is not now.

“Ready?” Earl asks.

I shut my eyes. “Quinn!” I shout. “Quinn!”

But he doesn’t hear me.

No one does.

22 QUINN

I dream about Bea and wake up in a sweat, my mind whirring with images of her body on the tracks of an old railway line being pecked at by hungry drifters, their mouths like beaks. She was calling my name over and over even though she was already dead. It was horrible.

I’m stuffing things into my backpack, ready to find Alina, when Vanya barges into my room. “How did you sleep?”

“I had nightmares,” I say, still feeling the effects of the dream.

“It’s always hard to sleep in a strange bed,” she says with this weirdo smile on her face. She flutters by me and throws open the curtains. “A glorious day!”

“Not for my friends, it isn’t. They need help before it’s too late.” I move to the door. “Do you have a buggy?”

“A buggy? Of course we have a buggy, Quinn. This isn’t The Grove.” She sits on the end of the bed and pats the spot next to her. I stay where I am.

“A child’s bleeding to death,” I say quickly, pointing out the window.

“Sounds serious.” She shifts her weight on the bed and the springs creak. The more composed she is, the more my limbs jitter. If she isn’t interested in helping, then what does she want?

“Is there a doctor or nurse? All I need is a buggy and medic . . . please.” I’m not used to begging anyone for anything, but I’d gladly get on my knees and lick her shoes if it meant she’d help. In fact, I’d do absolutely anything.

“No one’s leaving here,” she says, and grins like this is some kind of joke instead of a person’s life we’re talking about.

“I won’t let my friends die!” I shout.

She rises and comes to the door, where she stands ridiculously close to me and speaks slowly and quietly. “This is not a hotel, Quinn. You can’t pop in and then leave when you’ve showered and had a good meal and long rest. Abel should have explained that to you. I’ve arranged for you to complete some tests this afternoon. If you want to live here, I suggest you comply with our requests. I’m more than a little irritated by all the disruptions.”

“I’m not hanging around here while they’re out there. What kind of crazy woman are you?” I seize her arm and, like a wild drifter, she spins around and punches me on the ear. She’s stronger than she looks.

“Never lay your hands on me,” she snarls.

I push past her and out the door into the hallway. “Going somewhere?” Maks says.

Vanya cracks her knuckles and a vein in her neck pulses. “Take him to the lockup. Give him a few calmers and administer the physical tests,” she says. And with that, she turns away.

“You’re worse than Petra,” I say.

Vanya spins around. “I take that as a compliment,” she says.

“So that’s it? Jazz is going to die?” I push Maks off and step away from him. He’s beefy, but I’m fast. If I make a run for it, I might get away.

“Jazz?” Vanya says slowly.

“Yes. She’s just a child.”

“Well, that changes everything. Come with me.”

I’m wasting precious time sitting in what can only be described as Vanya’s boudoir while Maks is sent on an errand. Vanya isn’t cool and creepy anymore, she’s flustered. She keeps firing questions at me: “Who is this Bea? How old is the child? Where was she born? Who are her parents? How did she end up at The Grove?” I don’t have any answers—and the less I give her, the more Vanya frets.

Eventually Maks drags Alina and Dorian into the room. “What’s going on?” Alina asks.

“You said everyone from The Grove died. You lied.” Vanya says.

“The place was decimated,” Dorian says. He looks at Maks who, denied the opportunity to beat me up, may have his sights set on him.

“Quinn tells me there are more survivors,” Vanya says.

“How would he know?” Dorian spits. “His father was the one who destroyed The Grove. What’s he doing here, anyway?”

Alina elbows Dorian in the gut. Maks smirks. “We can trust Quinn,” she says. “If he claims there were survivors, then there were. We didn’t know.”

Vanya goes to the oxybox on the wall and takes a lungful of air. “So people were in there when you ran for it?”

“We tried to get Petra out,” Dorian says. “She refused. She climbed a tree and wouldn’t come down. We have no idea what happened to the others because we were all stationed at different locations. But Petra—she was determined to die.” Dorian is rambling and making himself breathless.

“Quinn found a child,” Vanya says. “Who could that be?”

Alina and I have already gone through this, but Alina pretends she’s working it out. “Jazz was the only kid at The Grove,” she says pointedly. “We tried to save her, but she wouldn’t leave Petra behind.”

Vanya taps her chin and studies me. “I don’t like this,” she says.

“Help me find them,” I say.

Vanya turns to Maks. “Get the zip ready.”

“A zip? Thank you.” I sigh.

“I’m not doing it for you,” Vanya says. “I’m doing it for my daughter.” She marches into the adjoining bathroom, leaving all of us gawking after her.

Maks is standing with one hand on Dorian’s shoulder, the other on Alina’s. He pushes them aside and takes