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
“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.
The jeep careened recklessly in an attempt to follow as someone yelled what sounded like GPS coordinates
