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.
“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’ is 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?”
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.
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
