by Laura Burns
He drank, then held the bowl up to the next person while they drank. Grayson. Sarah was happy to see her here again—she hadn’t been around since they branded her. Grayson brought the bowl to the lips of the person on her other side. Grayson’s eyes were wide and fearful, the whites glistening with a slight orange tint in the torchlight.
The bowl traveled down the row until it reached Karina, who then held it while Sarah drank. The shift in Sarah’s senses happened almost instantly, as always. Her fingertips now registered the tiny irregularities and roughness of the bowl’s finish. She could smell Karina’s shampoo, the vanilla scent of her lip gloss.
When she turned, Izzy’s perfume, spicy and woodsy and mixed with the sharpness of sweat, overwhelmed her. Sarah could hear how rapid Izzy’s breathing had become. Izzy, always so in control, seemed as agitated as Sarah felt. When she raised the bowl to Izzy’s mouth, a vibration ran through the ceramic. From what, she wasn’t sure. Tremors from Izzy’s lips, or Sarah’s fingers, or both?
When the ritual was complete, Nate strode to the front of the room. He reached through the ribs of the Bone Man and pulled out the metal bowl that had held the fire on the night of Grayson’s punishment. Something inside it rattled as he turned to face the group.
“Tonight we will take a life together—and tonight, one of us will die.”
The atmosphere in the room changed instantly, became charged like the air before a thunderstorm. One of them was going to die?
“For a sacrifice to be meaningful, what is sacrificed must be beloved. Each of us is beloved to every member of our pack,” the Jager continued. “Tonight one of us will be sacrificed to make the Wolfpack stronger. We will honor the one who offers their life for the group forever. And the rest of us will be forever bound by taking a cherished life on this sacred night.” He held up the bowl reverently. “Inside are stones. All are black, except one. The pack member who chooses the white stone will be revered as our sacrificial victim.”
Still holding the bowl aloft, he walked back to the other end of the room. When he reached Luke, he nodded. Luke reached up and took a stone from the bowl.
Black.
The Jager moved to Grayson. Tears now streaked her cheeks. She took in a long, shuddering breath before raising her hand to take a stone.
Black. Grayson let out a relieved sob, knees buckling.
The Jager continued down the lines.
Black.
Black.
Black.
With each black stone, Sarah felt hysteria gripping her tighter and tighter. All the fears of not belonging came rushing back like mocking voices in her mind. Nate wanted her here tonight—was it a setup? Had they asked her to join them only to use her as a human sacrifice?
Black.
Sarah’s pulse thundered in her ears. It was Karina’s turn. She laughed a little as she thrust her hand into the bowl. She rolled the stones under her fingers, taking her time selecting one.
I’m next, Sarah thought panicked, her heart beating erratically.
Karina opened her hand, her laugher stopping abruptly.
White.
10
We’re not really going to kill Karina. We’re not, we can’t, Sarah told herself as she walked through the woods with the rest of the group. The Blutgrog had turned each heartbeat into a drum strike that vibrated through her entire body, but the sound that pierced her, that threatened to shatter her, was Karina’s soft crying. Karina didn’t struggle as she walked, didn’t try to free herself from Harrison and Luke, who each held one arm. But she hadn’t stopped crying since the moment she drew the white stone.
Nate led the way to the clearing at the heart of the woods, the one where she’d seen them bury Luke. They called this place the Pine Tree, even though the forest was full of pines. This one was the biggest tree Sarah had ever seen, big enough that it blocked the sun so nothing grew underneath it. The clearing was wide, the ground a bed of soft reddish-brown pine needles. The moon hung low in the sky, huge, full and heavy, a deep orange color, as if it had been dipped in blood. The torch Nate held aloft glowed with almost the same color. He gestured to Luke and Harrison.
They pulled Karina up against the massive tree. Using a strip of black leather, they tied her wrists to an iron ring that had been screwed into the thick, dark trunk, high over her head.
It was one of the same leather strips they’d used at the first party, Sarah realized. This was going to turn out to be a game. It would probably even end with a party. The pack—her friends, her family—wouldn’t kill anyone. Especially not Karina. Everyone loved Karina. It was impossible not to.
“Come to me,” the Jager ordered, and the pack gathered around him in the center of the clearing. “We will honor Karina in our hearts and in our history for her sacrifice. We will also honor the pack member who takes her life. It is something we do together, but only one of us can pull the trigger.” He handed the torch to Luke and pulled a handgun with a wooden grip and a long metal barrel from the depths of his robe.
Nate let the pistol rest in his palm as he held it out to them. “Who will take the honor? Who will act for all of us?”
“This is how Nate became the Jager,” Izzy whispered into Sarah’s ear. “I heard there was a sacrifice before I joined, and Nate was the one who did it.”
Sarah tried to picture Nate, sweet, understanding Nate, shooting someone in cold blood. She shivered. It could just be a rumor, Sarah told herself. It had to be. Yet she knew that Nate was willing to do whatever it took to be a part of the Wolfpack, the best of the best.
Is that why he wanted me here? she wondered. Does he want me to take this pistol and put myself in line to be the next Jager?
She couldn’t do it. Neither could anyone else.
For a moment, the only sounds were Karina crying, Sarah’s pounding heart, and the crackle of pine needles as someone shifted from foot to foot. Then Hazel spoke up. “Couldn’t we choose stones again? Or something like that?”
Hazel’s voice shook with fear. She didn’t seem to think it was a game. Sarah’s heartbeat grew painful, as if an iron fist was squeezing and releasing it, over and over. A hard little seed of fear in her chest had started sprouting thorns.
“I thought you all understood why we had to do this,” Nate said, disapproval lacing his voice. “We must—”
“Oh fine, I’ll do it.” Izzy snatched the pistol. She took a step away from the group, turned toward Karina, raised the gun, and fired. Brilliant white light from the muzzle illuminated Izzy’s face. She was smiling.
“No!” The explosion of sound propelled Sarah into motion. She launched herself at Izzy and tackled her to the ground, sending the gun flying. “What did you do?” Sarah screeched. She grabbed Izzy by the shoulders, pinning the taller girl to the ground. “What did you do?”
“I did what had to be done,” Izzy replied calmly.
Sarah stared down into Izzy’s eyes. They were expressionless and empty. An icy chill of shock ran up her spine. She forced herself to move, to stand on shaking legs, to look around. She and Izzy were alone in the clearing. Everyone else had run. Even Nate. Even Nate.
Sarah turned toward Karina. Her head had flopped to one side, throwing her hood off. Her long dark hair fell over part of her face, but Sarah could see the dark irises of her eyes. They stared sightlessly, and her mouth hung open, as if she had died midscream. Sarah’s throat made a soft clicking sound as she fought down bile.
“You killed her. You killed her!” Sarah accused, whirling back toward Izzy, who now stood picking at a bit of dirt caught in the velvet nap of her robe.
“So? It’s not like I haven’t done it before.” Izzy shrugged. “It was actually easier this time. You know, there’s such a taboo against murder, but then you do it, and you realize, it’s not that hard. You can do it again.”
“What?”
“It changes you,” Izzy said. “Must be why I was the only one with the balls to pull the trigger.”
“But that—t
hat other time was an accident. You were fighting off a rapist,” Sarah protested.
Izzy twisted her mouth to the side, thinking. “Maybe. I mean, he certainly wanted to do me, and he didn’t care what I wanted. But I knew exactly how sharp the corner of the table was. I knew the tabletop was made of marble. And I took very careful aim, and he hit that corner perfectly.”
Sarah just blinked at her. “But … Karina. Why would you kill Karina?”
Izzy smiled. “You sound so surprised. I told you the truth. You knew why I was at this school. You’re the only one who knew—well, except Karina.” She glanced over at Karina’s body, hanging limply by her hands, still tied to the iron ring. “But I guess she doesn’t count anymore, dead and all. Anyway, someone had to do it. That’s what we came out here for.”
“No. It was just supposed to be a … a game, like a mission, like when Luke was buried alive,” Sarah argued weakly. “Just pretend.”
“Talk to Grayson about pretend,” Izzy said. “Although that brand is cooler than a tattoo, in my opinion. Much more original. No, you can tell yourself we didn’t really plan to kill Karina, but you know that’s not true. Admit it, you were relieved I did it. It meant you didn’t have to. But you’re as guilty as I am. You heard the Jager. We all did this. Together.”
Sarah stared at her wordlessly. What was there to say?
Izzy smoothed her wavy hair into place. “I’m heading back. You coming?” She strolled away without waiting for Sarah’s response.
It took Sarah almost a full minute to realize she was standing alone in the woods with a dead body. When it hit her, she ran blindly through the dark, pine branches slapping at her, scratching her face and hands, the only parts of her body unprotected by the robe.
She raced from the woods, across the back lawn, and up to the main building. She yanked open the door and started to slam it behind her, stopping herself just in time and shutting it quietly. She couldn’t get caught coming inside when a body would be found soon. A body. How could she be thinking of Karina as a body already? Tears stung her eyes. She took a few steps, then stopped abruptly. She didn’t know where to go. Not back to her room. Their room. Hers and Karina’s and Izzy’s. She couldn’t go there. She never wanted to see Izzy again.
The den? No. The rest of the pack—including Nate—had run off and left her.
Dr. Diaz. He’d helped her before, he’d help her now. She pulled her cell out of her pocket. “Locate Dr. Diaz,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“Teachers’ quarters,” the cell replied cheerfully. Sarah glanced at the dots on the screen—she’d never been to the teachers’ area before. Dr. Diaz’s dot was two floors above the sitting room near the front entrance. She raced up the main staircase and followed the blinking yellow dot up another set of stairs and down to his door. She tapped on it, and he didn’t take long to appear.
One look at her face was all he needed. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What happened?” He held the door open wider and she hurried inside.
Sarah opened her mouth— What was she supposed to say? How could she tell him what had happened? What they’d done? She let out a shaky sob.
“Sit down,” Dr. Diaz told her.
Sarah let him lead her over to the chair in front of his desk. She sat down. A little muscle beneath her right eye had begun to twitch.
“You’re starting to worry me, Sarah. I need you to talk.” Dr. Diaz pulled an armchair over next to her and sat. “Please, tell me what happened. Let me help you. Did you have another memory surge?”
She wanted to tell him everything. But she wasn’t going to bring the Wolfpack into this. She couldn’t. Without them she might lose too much.
Dr. Diaz took her arm and laid his fingers on her wrist, eyes on the wall clock. “Can you tell me your name?” He didn’t sound freaked out now. He sounded calm. Professional. Like the doctor he was.
The doctor voice snapped her out of her shock. Sarah pulled her wrist away. “I’m fine. I, you were right; I just had one of my memory things. I’m okay now.” She stood up.
“Are you sure? What’s with the robe?” Dr. Diaz asked.
The robe? The ceremonial robe! Sarah still had it on! She hadn’t even thought about it when she’d come tearing up here. How could she explain it?
“I, I … We killed Karina!” she burst out, her calm resolve shattered by his question. The words were like a tidal wave now, unstoppable. “I’m in this secret group. The Wolfpack. We decided to sacrifice someone. I thought it was just a, just pretend, a twisted game. But there was a gun. And—”
Dr. Diaz was on his feet. “Where was this?” he asked.
“In the woods.”
“You need to show me. Now,” Dr. Diaz told her. Sarah blinked. “She might still be alive,” he explained. Could she be? Sarah hadn’t gotten close to her. She’d seen Karina’s limp body, her unblinking eyes, her mouth open in an endless scream. “We need to go now,” Dr. Diaz ordered.
“Okay.” Sarah shoved herself to her feet, tearing off the robe. She’d be able to run faster in her jeans and sweater. And maybe Karina was alive. It was dark out. Maybe Sarah hadn’t seen right. Except that the moon was so full, the light from it so bright. Pushing the thought away, she raced back down the stairs, Dr. Diaz right behind her. Together they ran out the rear exit, down the path across the lawn, through the woods.
But when they reached the clearing, it was empty.
There was no gun lying on the ground.
There was no body hanging limply from the tree.
There weren’t even any footprints in the pine needles.
11
“Let’s just get you back to your room,” Dr. Diaz said. But everything had changed. He didn’t sound like himself, not even his ultraprofessional doctor self. His voice was different—careful. Like she might explode.
“I swear to god she was here, she was dead,” Sarah whispered, her eyes flicking from the iron ring in the Pine Tree to the spot on the ground where Sarah had tackled Izzy. There was no sign of a struggle. “I’m not crazy,” her voice broke.
Dr. Diaz took her arm and gently steered her back through the woods. “Try to think, Sarah. Were you and your friends doing anything you shouldn’t have been?”
You mean like murdering someone? she thought wildly. That little muscle under her eye was twitching again, faster now.
“Did you do any drugs?” he pressed.
“No,” she said automatically.
He sighed. “I’m not asking as a teacher, Sarah, I’m asking as a friend. I won’t tell anyone. But if you took something, it’s possible that a drug might’ve caused your memory to get confused. A mind-altering substance mixed with a brain like yours, well, that could get complicated.”
“You think I imagined it?” she asked, trying to focus on her feet, on stepping over branches and not slipping on fallen leaves. Normal things, not murderous things.
“Truthfully, I don’t know. But I think there are drugs that cause hallucinations, hallucinations anyone might find vivid and real. I tried a few of those, years ago. Once I came out of it, I knew I’d been tripping, as we called it back in the day.” He smiled, but it looked forced. “But for you, even later you might not be able to distinguish a hallucination from reality, because your brain stores data differently.”
Sarah thought about it. She was almost certain that the Blutgrog was a drug, not just alcohol and berries or whatever. It had always made her feel strange, always made the rest of the Wolfpack lose pretty much every inhibition they had. But it had never caused hallucinations. The things the Wolfpack did were very real. Like branding Grayson. Horrific, but real. She and Izzy and Karina—Karina, her name was a surprise punch to the gut—they’d talked about Grayson’s punishment afterward. They’d all had the same experience, and hallucinations didn’t work like that.
And Sarah had always felt extraordinarily clearheaded when she drank it, all her senses heightened, her reality amped up. Her reality. She shook her head. “No
drugs.”
They tramped through the woods silently until they finally hit the smooth expanse of the back lawn. “Okay, not a hallucination. A dream then,” Dr. Diaz said thoughtfully. “Bleeding into your perception of reality. You think you’re remembering the truth, but you’re only remembering a dream? We talked about how that can happen to people with extraordinary memories.”
“I don’t know,” Sarah murmured, lost in thought. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before. In a surge, she felt as if she was inside a memory, that the memory was happening in the present. The memory could feel real, but she’d never felt that a dream was real. She’d never confused them.
But maybe Dr. Diaz was right. Maybe her brain processed data differently than other people’s, even in a dream. It made more sense that the whole thing had been a horrible nightmare. Izzy wouldn’t have killed Karina. Or acted so casually about killing that boy, that had devastated her. “Maybe you’re right—” She stopped abruptly, a realization slamming into her.
“But you saw me in the robe. We wear robes for the ceremonies. I didn’t dream that I put it on,” she pointed out. Right now she needed to think like the science geek she was. Neither the hallucination theory or the dream theory made sense. She wished they did, but they just didn’t. She’d had Blutgrog a ton of times by now, and it had never made her sleepy or given her hallucinations.
“I’m not saying everything was a dream. You could have put on the robe to meet with your friends, then you could have fallen asleep without undressing,” Dr. Diaz suggested as they stepped inside the building. “You thought you were playing a game. Maybe you did, and parts of the game even ended up being incorporated into the dream.”
But why would tonight be the first time in her whole life where a dream felt like a memory?