No one is outside the building, but when I peek through the windows, I see a guard standing just inside the entrance. I duck down when he looks in my direction. Trying to find another way in, I walk around the building. There’s one large window in the back that faces a hallway. I push at the glass. It’s unlocked and it slides up with a low creak. I freeze. My back is to the dense woods, but the guard might have heard the noise. I wait, holding my breath. One minute, two. Nothing happens. My hands slowly unclench.
Using the ledge, I pull myself up and through the open window. I crawl into a long and narrow hallway. It’s empty; all of the officers must be out training. Before I start to explore, I carefully shut the window behind me, worried that if someone sees it open they’ll sound the alarm.
There are several doors in the hallway. I slowly open one of them. Inside is a medium-sized room with two beds and two small desks pushed up against each other. Dean probably doesn’t have to share a room, and so I shut the door again. I notice there’s a small plaque next to it that says SECOND LIEUTENANT QUARTERS.
I search until I find the door that says FIRST LIEUTENANT QUARTERS and carefully step into the room. This space is smaller but there’s only one bed and one desk. A high window in the corner gives the room a little bit of light. Everything is covered in a thin layer of dust, as though it’s been a while since anyone was last here.
I open one of the desk drawers. On the top is a letter addressed to Dean Bentley. At least I know I have the right room. I set it aside and pull out a large, folded piece of paper. I spread it out on the desk. It’s a map, showing an aerial view of Camp Hero. All of the concrete bunkers have been highlighted.
Dean supposedly stays here all the time. So why does this room seem unused? And why does he need a map of the concrete bunkers?
I put the map back and try to open one of the smaller drawers. It won’t budge. Kneeling down, I notice a keyhole. I reach up to the bun at my neck and pull out two bobby pins. I bend the metal into a straight line. Using a technique my dad taught me after I’d been locked out of the storeroom in his shop one too many times, I push one pin into the keyhole and hold it there, then put the other pin into the top of the lock and jiggle it. There’s a small clicking noise and the drawer springs open.
I peer inside. The drawer is empty. Defeated, I move to shut it again. But as it closes, I notice something glint from far in the back. I reach in, and my hand closes over a long piece of metal. I take it out. It’s a thin, rectangular shape with several holes and squares cut out of it. My heart starts to race as I realize where I’ve seen it before.
“Lydia.”
I whip around, holding the piece of metal out like a weapon.
Wes is standing in the doorway wearing an army uniform. I was so caught up in what I just found, I didn’t even hear him open the door. Some spy I make.
“Where did you get that?” His voice is low and a little dangerous. I tense automatically.
I’m too rattled to come up with a good lie. “I found it in the drawer.”
He stares at me and doesn’t move an inch. “Put it back.”
“This is the same key you used to open the bunker that leads to the underground labs. What is it doing in my great-grandfather’s desk drawer?” My voice is high and breathless, the words falling out of my mouth before I really have a chance to process them. As soon as I see Wes’s face, I know I’ve said too much.
His jaw tightens, like he’s clenching his teeth hard. But then he sees me flinch and he sighs. He walks forward slowly. “Your great-grandfather?”
I squeeze the metal key tightly in my hand, but I don’t say anything.
“I suspected that you could be related to the Bentleys … but I didn’t know how.”
“Why?”
“Because you look like them. You share mannerisms. The way you run your hands through your hair, just like Mary Bentley. And you bite your lower lip when you’re uncertain about something.” His gaze drops down to my mouth, and all of a sudden the room feels like it’s too small, too tight. “Which is something Mrs. Bentley does as well.”
I hadn’t noticed that, and I’m surprised that Wes has. But that also means— “You’ve been spying on me!” I look at the door quickly, horrified that someone might have heard me.
“Don’t worry.” Wes’s mouth tilts up in a sort-of-but-not-really smile. “I took care of the guard.”
I glare at him. “But you have been spying on me.”
“Yes.” He says it without any regret or explanation.
I raise my eyebrows. “That’s it? Yes?”
“Lydia.” He meets my eyes. Even in the dim light coming from the small window, I feel myself get pulled into his stare. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
It’s not easy, but I turn my head away. “Right. So that I don’t step on an ant and cause an earthquake in fifty years.”
“It’s not a joke,” he says, but there’s something in his voice that makes me think he’s a little amused.
“I know.” I slump back onto the desk and hold up the strange key. “I just found proof that my great-grandfather is a part of the Montauk Project.”
“You should put it back and come with me.”
“I can’t.” I straighten and walk over to the high window. I’m not tall enough to see out of it, even when I stand on tiptoe. “Dean disappears in three days, and all I know is that he’s somehow
