“What am I getting, exactly?” I asked.
For the first time since we’d left the lab, Sam looked extremely uncomfortable. His hands hung in loose fists at his sides, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. His eyes darted around, marking the exits, though I wondered whether he meant to escape potential threats or a jeans fitting.
“You can get whatever you want,” he said, then disappeared behind a rack of T-shirts.
I went to the jeans section and dug through the sizes until I found a fit I liked. I passed a wall of fall skirts and sweater dresses, coming up alongside a display of fleece scarves. A vibrant purple scarf caught my attention and I paused, thinking of the photo of my mother. In it she wore a scarf much like this one. Except hers wasn’t fleece, or at least I didn’t think it was. Hers was made of a shiny material that hung in billowy folds around her neck.
Homesickness overcame me, swallowing me whole. I fingered the material of the scarf, wondering about all the things that made up my old life, and how much of that life was true. My mother. My father. My house. The lab.
If I found my mother at the end of this journey, what then? I was afraid of what the reunion might uncover. I was afraid of what I’d feel when I realized my father had truly lied to me.
I picked up a few long-sleeved shirts, and on impulse grabbed the scarf, too. On my way to the fitting room, I ran into Sam. He had taken off his jacket and shrugged into a new coat. Made of a thick black canvas, with a zipper at the front and a row of buttons to double it up, it looked more like him than anything I’d seen him wear so far. The gray pants and white T-shirt he’d worn in the lab had never done him justice.
“Are you getting that?” I asked.
He straightened the collar. “I don’t know. I have a coat, but this seems more practical. It’s thick, but lightweight. Easy to run in.”
“And it looks good.”
His gaze darted up to meet mine. A question hung there between us. What are you doing, Anna? I was treading dangerously close to a line I knew I shouldn’t cross. A line Sam had built up with bricks and cement. And KEEP OUT signs.
Retreat! the voice in my head shouted. And quickly.
I hoisted up my load of clothing. “I’m trying this stuff on,” I said and hurried toward the fitting room.
Inside, I hung the items on the wall hooks and admonished my reflection in the full-length mirror. My cheeks were pink from leftover embarrassment. No more thinly veiled flirting, I told myself. No more ogling Sam. No more.
I stepped out of my jeans and slipped into a new pair. The flare-cut dragged on the floor, so I tried the boot cut next. They fit perfectly. I ran through Sam’s listed requirements. Light. Sturdy. Easy to run in, should I need to run.
I stared at myself, wondering who that girl was, the one buying jeans according to the way she could move in them. My life had changed so drastically in a few short days.
I left the jeans on, hoping the salesgirl would accept only the tag at the register. As I pulled off my shirt, I heard the fitting room attendant greeting a customer: “Hi. How many… Hey, you can’t—”
“Take this,” I heard Sam say. “If a man comes through asking about a boy and a girl, we were never here.”
“Dude, I don’t know…” the attendant said.
“Anna?” Sam called. “Open the door.”
“What?” I was shirtless, standing there in jeans and a pale green bra.
“Now, Anna!”
I let him in. He shut the door and pushed me to the far corner of the stall. He pressed a finger to my lips and breathed. “Shhhhh.”
I managed a nod as his eyes flicked down, seeing my bra and nothing else. Frenzied butterflies took flight in my stomach. I could hear my heartbeat in my head and wondered if Sam could hear it, too, if he could sense what I felt. His eyes moved again to my mouth. With his finger gone, there was nothing between us. I licked my lips. My breath fluttered helplessly behind my teeth.
“Can I help you with something?” The attendant’s voice carried through the fitting room.
A deep voice answered, one I didn’t recognize. “I’m looking for a young man and woman. They look like this.”
Sam leaned into me, bringing with him the scent of new canvas. His breath touched the curve of my neck, pouring a chill down my spine.
“You know,” the attendant said, “I think I saw them….”
“Where?” the man asked.
“Um…” The attendant shuffled his feet. “They were just here about fifteen minutes ago.”
“If you see them again,” the man said, “call this number.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
The agent’s shoes squeaked over the polished floor as he left. Sam retreated, and an aching cold filled the space he left behind. I grabbed a shirt and slid into it, wanting to escape before the agent returned.
“Hey,” the attendant said through the door, “he’s gone.”
Shoulders rigid, Sam avoided looking at me as he asked, “The clothes work okay?”
In the mirror, I saw the color in my cheeks grow darker. If Sam didn’t know what I felt for him before, he surely knew now. I was stupid to allow him to get to me. Stupid for wishing it had gone farther than it had. “What? Yeah. Fine.”
“Then we need to leave.”
Hands shaking, I tugged on my shoes as Sam opened the door. The attendant waited on the other side, eyes wide, sweat beading on his forehead. “Dude, that was heavy. I don’t know if I can take this.” He held out a few twenty-dollar bills.
“Keep it. And we’re taking these jeans and a T-shirt and a coat. I think this should cover it.” He handed over a short stack of bills.
“No, this is too much….”
“Keep whatever’s left.”
Sam poked his head around the fitting room exit, scanning the store. He grabbed my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “Don’t run unless you see one of them, but walk fast. Head straight for the store’s entrance. We’re going right when we hit the mall concourse.”
“Okay,” I said as he tugged me from our hiding spot.
My mouth went dry as soon as we reached the main part of the mall. Everyone looked like a Branch man. Every cell phone looked like the butt of a gun. I blinked back the blurriness edging my vision.
Sam called Trev on the cell. “Meet us back in the food court. They’re here.” He hung up and slid the phone into his jacket pocket.
We were quickly swept up in the movement of the crowd. The closer we came to the food court, the more I hoped we’d lost the agents. If there were only one or two men, it’d be nearly impossible for them to spot us.
But when we rounded into the children’s play area, I froze at the sight of a familiar face, at the pressed navy blue suit and no-nonsense expression.
“Sam.” I tugged him back.
The man looked up and locked eyes with me.
Riley had found us.
18
“STOP THEM!” RILEY YELLED.
The command had the opposite effect. The crowd parted. People pressed themselves against storefronts, windows, and walls, as if we were infectious. Shouts and gasps sounded around us. A second agent raced in our direction, his gun out.
Sam cut left. Gawkers gathered in the mall median, capturing video of our escape with their cell phones. A gate slammed shut over a candle shop. The median thinned out.
We barreled into a clothing store. I clipped the edge of a display, knocking it over. Tank tops spilled everywhere. I lost my momentum. The agent, a man I didn’t know, pointed the gun at me. Teeth gritted, lips pursed, he slid his trigger finger into place.
Sam’s hand clamped down on my wrist and wrenched me back. We ran. Left. Right. Winding through displays, around people, gasping, shrieking.
My knees were numb; I felt like I was running on leftover adrenaline and nothing else.
Sam steered us into a back room, slammed his way through an emergency exit. An alarm cut a shrill note above us. Daylight momentarily bli
nded me. We emerged into an alleyway surrounded by Dumpsters and broken merchandise.
We’d just started for the parking lot when a gun clicked and Riley cut us off.
“You’ve caused a lot of trouble,” he said, panting, as his partner smashed through the exit.
I knew Sam had a gun hidden beneath his new coat, but he hadn’t reached for it yet, and I wondered if he relished the idea of taking Riley out with his bare hands.
“Arms behind your back,” Riley ordered, pointing the gun at me, “or I’ll shoot her.”
Sam urged me behind him. “You’ll have to go through me first.”
I gulped down fresh air, trying to cool the burning in my lungs, ease the tightening of my insides.
“Fine,” Riley said as he turned the gun on Sam. Sam launched himself in Riley’s direction and kicked out a foot, forcing Riley’s knee to bend in an unnatural way. Something cracked. Riley cried out as Sam wrapped one hand around Riley’s gun, the other around his wrist.
The second agent started for me.
I scanned the alley for a weapon. A few cardboard boxes were broken down and stacked behind one store. Plastic crates towered near a Dumpster. Broken garden urns lay on their sides behind the home-goods store. That was as close to a weapon as I could get.
I ran, picked up too much speed, and skidded across the rocky concrete when I tried to stop. I went down on one leg, sliding over the ground, gravel biting through the material of my jeans. I reached for the urns, scooping up a chunk of broken plaster.
The man grabbed me by the ankle, yanked me around. Riley growled somewhere behind us. I rocked back on my free hand and kicked up with my other leg, catching the man in the kidney. He doubled over. I leapt to my feet and swung down with the chunk of urn, connecting with the back of his head. The flesh split open, and blood gurgled up like springwater as he crumpled to the ground.
Sam clipped Riley with an uppercut. Riley flew backward, slamming into the Dumpster. Sam was immediately on him again. He grabbed a chunk of hair with his left hand and clocked Riley with his right.
Riley went limp. Sam aimed the gun at him.
“No! Don’t. Please.”
Sam looked over a shoulder. “Anna,” he said, making my name sound like an exasperated sigh.
“Please.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” I knew Riley personally, and even though he was ready to take my life, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to cross that line. “Please,” I said again, “don’t.”
Sam let the gun drop. “Check him.” He nodded at the man behind me. “ID. Keys. Weapons.”
I checked the man’s pockets, watching the rise and fall of his chest. I found a wallet, a set of zip ties, and keys. I handed the items to Sam. He’d taken Riley’s belongings, too, and tossed everything into one of the nearby Dumpsters.
We ran around front and Sam slowed while he called the others. “You guys all right? We had to backtrack.” He paused. “Meet me at the car.”
To me he said, “You okay? Can you keep moving?”
I nodded, even though running was the last thing I wanted to do. I was not as resolute as Sam. I couldn’t fight people, people I knew, people I thought I trusted, and keep going. I couldn’t bury everything and pretend that any of this was okay. Riley had pointed a gun at me. Would Connor have done the same thing? And Dad? What would he have done if he were here?
“I’m good,” I said. Because it was Sam. I wanted to prove that I could stand next to him when things got bad.
As we crossed in front of the bookstore, a gray car squealed into the parking lot. Rubber burned against the pavement as the car turned in our direction.
“Is that—”
“Go.” Sam pushed me toward the Jeep.
The gray sedan cut left, racing across the parking lot, parallel to us. The other boys burst from the sporting-goods store on my right. We converged, Cas ahead of me, Trev next to me, Sam and Nick in the back. I tried to count my breaths, to control the tightness in my lungs.
The sedan whipped down the parking lot aisle as we darted across it. Our vehicle sat three rows away. We weren’t going to make it.
Brakes screeched behind us. I looked back but Nick urged me on. Footsteps pounded after us. Cas reached the Jeep first. Sam tossed him the keys and Cas snatched them from the air before sliding in behind the wheel. Trev ripped up on the back door handle. Nick rushed to the passenger side.
“Get the girl first!” someone shouted.
My throat constricted. The footsteps closed in as Sam rounded to the other side of the Jeep. I clambered inside. Trev fumbled in behind me. A hand snaked in at the last second and I screeched as one of the agents tangled his fingers in my hair, yanking me back. Sam wrapped an arm around my waist.
“Go! Go!” Nick yelled.
Cas jammed the vehicle into drive.
My head felt like it was on fire, the hair ripping from my scalp.
Trev hoisted the gun bag from the floorboard and swung it at the agent. The bag hit him and he lost both his grip and his footing. He stumbled backward. Cas punched the gas and the vehicle shot forward. Trev slammed the door shut.
“You idiot!” Nick screamed. “You lost the guns!”
“They had Anna!” Trev fired back. “It was the only thing I had close by.”
I blocked out the argument as Sam pulled me toward him, tucking me in close to his side. The fear crowded out the pain in my leg and in my head.
Five minutes ago, he’d asked me if I was okay. Five minutes ago, the real answer had been no. But we’d narrowly missed capture, and in this new life, that seemed as much like success as anything.
Was I okay? I was as okay as I was going to be, and here, so close to him, feeling the rise of his chest, I felt safe. I was devastatingly thankful and relieved that I was here, with him, and not left behind in the parking lot with Connor’s men. They were not the good guys like I thought, like Dad had taught me. Connor, Riley, the Branch. How could I have been so stupid to trust in them?
“Thank you,” I said to Sam and Trev, the words coming out muffled.
“We wouldn’t have left without you,” Sam said.
And I believed him.
19
IN THE HOUR IT TOOK US TO REACH the cabin, Sam never moved. I pushed closer, finding a comfortable niche in the crook of his arm. His right hand was splayed over his leg, and I traced the curve of his long fingers with my eyes, the sharp edges of his knuckles, wondering what it would feel like to take his hand in mine. I wanted him to anchor me to the real world. I felt disconnected from everything.
The words Is this happening? kept spiraling through my head.
I had been so sure of my life and Sam’s role in it back at the lab. Maybe I’d spent every single day pining for him, wanting his attention and his affection, but I knew that glass wall would never move.
Now here I was, pressed against him again, and I was having a hard time separating how I felt about the Sam of my past and the Sam here in the present. They were the same person, obviously, but liking the Sam of my past was safe. Liking the Sam of now wasn’t.
He could escape from a locked room with only straws and tape. He’d killed people right in front of me. How could I have feelings for someone like that? And what did it say about me if I did?
Cas pulled into the driveway and stopped. Sam opened his door and slipped out. Immediately I missed him. Nick followed quickly behind.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
Cas drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Checking the house.”
Right. I hadn’t thought about that. If Riley had found us in that shopping mall, how long would it be till he found the cabin?
I watched Sam disappear into the woods to the right of the driveway. One minute he was there, slinking through the trees, and the next minute he was gone. It felt like I held my breath the entire time. When Trev’s cell chirped from his pocket a few minutes later, I jerked in surprise.
“Everyt
hing clear?” Trev asked. “All right.” He ended the call, then slid the phone back into his pocket. “We’re good.”
I exhaled in relief.
Thanks to Nick, a fire was already crackling when we walked into the house. I folded myself into one of the easy chairs, tucking my legs beneath me. The heat felt good, but it made my torn-up leg burn more. It wasn’t too bad, as far as scrapes went, but it was still annoying. Plus, my brand-new jeans were already ruined.
“Let’s talk about the guns,” Nick said once we were grouped in the living room.
The room went icily still. I had the overwhelming urge to back into a corner, far from the others. It was partially because of me that the guns had been lost.
Sam leaned a shoulder against the wall near the windows, his eyes downcast. “We can’t go without guns. I know you were protecting Anna,” he said to Trev, “but it’s left us vulnerable.”
Trev scratched at the back of his head. “I’m sorry. It was the first and only thing I saw that I could use.”
Nick rose to his full six feet plus. “How about unzipping the goddamn bag and, I don’t know, using one of the guns!”
“Hey, come on.” Cas stepped into the middle of the argument, arms outstretched, as if he meant to hold Nick back, despite their four-inch height difference. “We can get more guns. Right, Sammy?”
Everyone turned to Sam and his shoulders sank an inch. “Yes, but it’s not in the budget, and going around asking about guns is only going to draw more attention.”
“We have a budget?” I asked. The boys ignored me.
Cas gestured toward Sam with a quick lift of his chin. “How many bullets we got?”
Sam was the only one with a gun now. He retrieved it from beneath his new coat and removed the magazine. “A full ten.”
“Not going to get us very far,” Nick said. A few rogue curls stuck out from behind his ears. It wasn’t fair that he could look so good after going so long without a shower. He had that perfect kind of wavy, bordering-on-curly hair that looked presentable even when unwashed. Silently I wondered if he was dying without his organic shampoo. I hoped so.
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