Uninvited

by kindle@abovethetreeline. com

  I stop, drop low to the ground and freeze, every muscle in me locking tight. I listen, heart hammering a loud tempo in my ears. Crouched, I inch back, away from the sound of the voice. I don’t think to watch behind me.

  One of the guys, the stocky one, shouts gleefully as his hands come down on my shoulders. “I got her! I got her! Jackson! Over here!”

  I whirl, at least relieved it’s not Jackson. He’s more formidable to me. More dangerous.

  Twisting around, I face the boy holding me. “What about when Jackson turns on you? When he decides to use you for a punching bag? Remember what he said? There will only be a few left standing at the end of this.”

  “Yeah. And I’ll be one of them.”

  “If he’s picking off the weaker, you look like a good target.”

  “Shut up!” He shakes me.

  I kick him hard in his shin and slam my heel down on top of his foot, grinding deep.

  He cries out, releasing me. I’m up and running again.

  Only I don’t make it three strides before I’m caught in the face with the sharp crack of a branch.

  I fall on my back, my skull throbbing from the hard collision. My face stings. I gingerly touch my nose, my cheek, fingers roaming, testing, brushing over my lips. Wetness coats my fingers. My bottom lip is split and bleeding profusely.

  Jackson stands over me, a long branch in his hand. He slaps it against his other palm. “Oh, man. That looks like it hurts.” He points to his puffy eye. I guess I did that. “This doesn’t feel too hot, either, bitch.”

  I lower my hand from my mouth, mumbling, “Now we’re even.”

  “Oh, this isn’t about what’s fair. It’s about fun. My fun.” He cocks his head. “At your expense. Sorry.”

  Of course, he’s not sorry. I see that in his gaze, in the hard, brittle eyes. My pain, my fear, thrills him.

  He crouches in front of me. I draw back, watching him survey me consideringly, his gaze lingering on my bare legs. He’s still slapping that branch in his open palm. By now the other two guys have arrived, breathless, behind him.

  When he brings the branch down on my thighs I’m almost expecting it. I flinch. A hiss of pain escapes through my teeth.

  He lifts his arm and lets the branch fly again. Pain rips across my flesh. My leg shoots out reflexively. I kick him in the jaw, sending him flying backward.

  I scramble to my feet and run.

  “Get her!”

  I ignore the hot agony in my legs. My feet work, legs eating up ground.

  Heavy feet pound behind me. A hand grazes my shoulder, slowing me. I stumble and then he’s on me. We tumble and keep rolling. Screaming, I claw, I hit. Jackson’s curses burn my ears. He punches me in the stomach. I moan. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I yank until I feel the roots tear loose.

  Shouting, he loses his grip. I scurry frantically to my feet, using my hands for leverage.

  I’m not running as fast as I need to be, but that punch in the gut still has me winded. My breathing is loud and harsh, crashing over the humid air. I swipe at low-hanging branches.

  I hear him behind me.

  I don’t look back, too frightened at what the split second glance will cost me. I push harder.

  He grabs my shirt, seizing a fistful. I screech and whirl around, swinging even as hot sobs scald my throat. My knotted hand catches him against the side of the head even as I brace for the returning blow, the pain to come.

  Dimly, it occurs to me that I’ve known more pain in the last month than ever before. In my entire life. Is this all I will know now? Will pain become everyday? As natural as drawing air?

  “Davy! Stop! It’s me!” I register his voice at the same time I realize I’m not being attacked. He’s carefully holding me by the arms. Familiar blue-gray eyes drill into me, searching, touching that part of my heart I’d tried and failed to lock away.

  “Sean?” I sag against him, relief pouring through me.

  “What happened? You’re bleeding.” He brushes my mouth with his hand. Scowling, his gaze drops over me, examining me.

  Remembering we’re not alone out here, I look around us, still panting. “There are three of them—”

  His face hardens. “What did they do?”

  “Nothing.” I cover his hand with my own and squeeze reassuringly. Nothing the instructors will look twice at when they see me anyway. I don’t need them pondering how I got slapped. They’ll probably think my split lip was from yesterday’s drill. “Which way to the trail?”

  “This way.” He starts to guide me through the dense woods. “Who did this?”

  “Some guys. Jackson.”

  He looks over his shoulder like he wants to go back for them. Rage brightens his eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I choke out, and then swallow, clearing my throat. I force my chin up and stuff away the part of me that wants to crumple, break, and fall into tears. Weakness can’t exist in me anymore. When I try again, my voice rings stronger. “I’m starting to think there’s a reason for locking up carriers. We really are animals.”

  We step out onto the dirt-packed trail and I exhale, looking left and right, almost expecting the other three to be waiting, but it’s just us.

  Sean stops us from going any farther. Color burns beneath his tan. “Is that what you are? An animal? Is that what I am?”

  “I didn’t mean us,” I say, but I’m not sure. I know what’s inside me now. I tell myself that I had to take that man’s life. For Sean, I had to. But it doesn’t change what I did. Or what I am. The fact that it stays with me, haunts my every thought and sickens me, changes nothing.

  “Don’t lump us with them.” His eyes glitter brightly. He grinds his hand against his chest for emphasis. “I know I’m different from them. So are you. That’s why I won’t stay here for another day.” His lip curls up over his teeth with disgust. “I’m not playing their games anymore. Whatever they have in store for us, I’m not going to be a part of it.” His lips flatten tightly, clearly waiting for me to say something.

  I stare up at him, barely breathing, thinking what it would be like to stay here, of living through more of this. Leaving here would be a dream. Only I’ve given up on dreams.

  I nod down the trail. “We better get going.”

  He holds my arm, stopping me from moving on.

  “Davy.” The sound of my name is full of desperation. “They made you kill a man.”

  I flinch. He doesn’t need to remind me. When I close my eyes, the man I killed is all I see. I draw a ragged breath. I shake, thinking of brown eyes, vacant and glassy. Empty. The sound of a body hitting the ground.

  He dips his head to look evenly into my eyes. “Can you trust me? Can you let go enough to do that? I have a plan, Davy.”

  I release a shaky breath, the plea in his eyes affecting me. I laugh weakly. “You told me not to trust anyone but myself. Remember? Were you excluding yourself?”

  “Oh, no. I meant me, too.”

  “Then what changed?”

  “That was before.”

  “Before what?” I ask.

  He takes his time answering. “Before you got under my skin. Before you killed someone to save my life. Believe in me, Davy. In us.” He pauses. Hunger stirs in me as I watch him. The tendons in his throat work. “Let me save your life now. Because you have to know that if you stay here, you’re dead. Promise me you’ll come with me.”

  “If I go with you,” I whisper, swallowing, “there’s nothing waiting for us. No chance of anything.” And if we’re caught . . . what then? I don’t say it, but the words, the fear, hangs between us.

  Something rustles in the trees nearby and Sean tenses. I follow his gaze, holding my breath. No one emerges.

  Sean looks back at me. “I’m leaving with Gil. Tonight. I was going to tell you in Independent Study.”

  I suck in a sharp breath. So soon?

  “We’ll be long gone before roll call in the morning. Gil has made arrangements. He’s got a guy that’s going to
pick us up who—” Sean stops, shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.” His voice is flat, the words falling with finality. “Next time there won’t be anyone around to come looking for you and pull you back onto the trail.” He brushes fingers against my cut lip. A shiver runs through me. “I can’t stay and watch you get hurt here.”

  I exhale, shaken. My stomach twists sickly. He drops his hand and starts walking. I fall into step beside him.

  I want to tell him I’ll be all right without him, but it’s a long time since I’ve felt confident that I’m ever going to be all right. After yesterday, I doubt that I’ll ever feel fully right again. I’ll never go back to the girl I used to be who hears music in her head. But this. Here. Without him. It’s impossible.

  We walk together, side by side but not touching on our way back to the compound. Every nerve ending tingles, alive and awake with him so close beside me. An ache suffuses my chest to think of him leaving. Gone.

  I notice Jackson and the other two in the distance by the dining hall. Their body language conveys their fury. One of them points at me, but they don’t approach. Not out in the open like this. Not with my alleged boyfriend by my side. I glance at him and my chest tightens painfully.

  God, I don’t want you to go.

  At first, I don’t realize I’ve uttered these words aloud until he looks down at me with a frustrated expression, his eyebrows pulling tight over his eyes.

  “Don’t make this harder than it is, Davy. If I stay here, they’ll kill us both. Maybe not physically, but what’s left of us . . . our souls. I’m not sticking around to watch that happen. You could ask me for anything, but not that.”

  “I won’t. I’m not asking that.” Then I hear myself saying, “I’m coming with you.”

  For a moment he just stares at me like he doesn’t understand—or believe—my words. Then his expression lightens and a smile lifts his mouth. “You mean that?”

  I nod.

  He inches forward like he’s going to hug me but catches himself with a quick glance around. “You won’t regret it, Davy. We’re going to make it. You’ll see.” He gives my arm a slight squeeze. “I’ll come for you tonight.” I nod again, hoping he’s right and that we won’t regret this.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  * * *

  The number of US carriers fleeing across our border has become of grave concern. As much as the CBSA has tripled its efforts, we simply cannot impede the illegal influx. The merging of so many displaced and volatile individuals among our citizens has yielded deadly consequences. Such a threat cannot be ignored. At this time, until the US carrier population is better managed, all visitors from the United States shall be refused entry into Canada.

  —Correspondence to the US secretary of state from the Canadian envoy to the United States of America

  THIRTY

  SITTING ON THE EDGE OF MY BED, MY FINGERS tap an anxious staccato against my thighs. I focus on my impending escape, concentrate on this. A difficult task when glassy, dead eyes keep intruding on my thoughts. I wonder things. Who was he before someone studied his DNA under a microscope? What was his name? Shaking my head, I shove away the crippling thoughts. I can’t afford them tonight.

  I tell myself that escaping here won’t land us in a bigger mess, in more danger. I close my eyes and rub the bridge of my nose. Not that I can change my mind now even if I wanted to. Sean is coming for me. I’m going with him. I promised. And I want to go.

  My chest tightens, clenches and squeezes with the desperate hope that we make it out of here. Rising from the bed, I walk to the window and stare out the blinds. Perimeter lights edge the building and grounds. I hear the purr of an ATV before I see it roll across the lawn. It’s the only sound in the night. The building is as quiet as a tomb.

  No alarms have gone off, and I can’t help wondering how we’ll get out of the building. They lock us in at night. Security sits downstairs.

  A faint click sounds behind me. I spin around, staring first at the door and then everywhere else all at once. Dim light pours into the room, saving me from total blackness, and I identify Sean as he steps inside. The fear ebbs, replaced with a new kind of tension.

  “Sean,” I whisper, my heart pumping harder.

  He shuts my door behind him and leans back against it. In the gloom, I can detect the rise and fall of his broad chest. Like he just ran several flights of stairs.

  Nervously, I brush a strand of hair from my cheek. My gaze darts around before coming to rest on him again. Of course I can’t help replaying the last time we were alone in my room. I swallow against the sudden dryness of my throat.

  I moisten my lips. “You made it.”

  He moves, closing the distance between us, advancing with steady strides, eyes gleaming and dark. His hands slide along my cheeks, lifting my face to his. He kisses me, hard and swift. His hands move from my face to my back. Fingers splayed wide, he pulls me against him, wrapping me up in his warmth.

  Warm tears roll down my cheeks. He’s the only one. Since all this happened to me, he’s the one that’s been there for me. The one to make me feel like I’m still a person. Not a pariah. Not the monster in the dark. He’s never told me what I am. He’s just assured me that I’m not anything I don’t want to be.

  Our lips fuse hotter, more urgent. I throw my whole weight against him. Off balance, he staggers, arm looping around my waist. We fall back on the bed, me sprawled over him.

  I kiss him like it’s the last time. Because who knows? It could be. If we’re caught, we’ll at least have this. I work my hands beneath his shirt, skate my palms over his flat stomach, revel at the quiver of his warm flesh under my hands.

  He thrusts me from him, his fingers scoring through my hair, holding it back from my face so that he can see me. “Davy. We don’t have much time. Gil’s waiting downstairs, hiding in the stairwell.”

  I take a bracing breath. “Yes. Of course.” We’re really doing this. “Let’s go.”

  The door creaks open and we fly apart, Sean pushing me behind him.

  “Hey.” It’s Gil, his dark eyes shining behind his lenses. “We’ve got to go if we want that head start. The guards change shifts in a couple hours.”

  I grab my backpack. Sean takes my hand and we’re moving. Walking through the door and out into the silent hall without a backward glance. There’s no sight of anyone on my floor. We take the stairwell, my heart pounding so hard I’m afraid it can be heard a mile away. At the bottom floor, Gil eases the door open and peers out.

  At first glance, the guard looks asleep at the desk, but then you notice his complete and unusual stillness and the odd way his head rests on the surface. Sean creeps toward his desk and deposits the keys there that he apparently used to open my door. We start to slip past him, but suddenly I stop. On impulse, I move back to the desk, my pulse now a feverish throb in my throat. I snatch up the keys, motioning Sean and Gil to wait, and race back up the stairs. At Sabine’s room, I unlock the door. She’s already up, standing tensely beside her bed, her small frame trembling. Her fearful expression eases somewhat when she sees it’s me but remains wary.

  “I’m getting out of here,” I whisper. “You can stay or come with me.”

  She hesitates only a moment before grabbing a pair of pants and slipping them on over her shorts. She stuffs her feet into her shoes, not bothering with the laces. I don’t have to warn her to be quiet. She follows me soundlessly down the stairs, past the sleeping guard and outside.

  Sean and Gil are waiting by the door, their expressions anxious until they spot me. Their eyes widen slightly at the sight of Sabine behind me. Pushing open the door, Sean motions me to hurry. My steps quicken and together we dive outside. The air hasn’t cooled off much and I’m immediately doused in the humid evening. I look left and right, scanning our surroundings. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm. We take a left. I listen fo
r sounds as we move along. Nothing. Not even the purr of the ATV patrolling the grounds.

  We hug the shadows, rounding the refectory, heading west. The same direction the carrier had taken last night in his dash for freedom, where the perimeter wall is at its lowest. A pang sharpens my chest at the memory, at the bitter, bitter wish that he had made it.

  Sean guides us behind the thick hedge bordering one side of the refectory. The four of us crouch down. I look at the boys curiously. Sean shakes his head at me and motions for me to stay silent. He looks back out at the quad in the direction we just came. I follow his gaze. Nothing. I look back at him questioningly. He motions to his lips, mouthing the word: wait.

  Then I see her, muttering under her breath as she stomps a hard line. I’d know that walk anywhere. It’s hard and swift, more like a man’s stride. I catch some of her words. “ . . . know she went this way . . .”

  I peer through the spiny leaves and observe acne-scarred Addy’s face. Even in the dark, I can detect the wildness in her eyes.

  She stops and looks around, her narrow face drawn tight. Sighing, she props her hands on her hips and calls out, “I saw you! I know you’re out here! I saw you and that twig leave the building. Come out, Davy!”

  My heart squeezes to hear my name on her lips. I exchange looks with Sean and Gil, trying to convey my regret that I earned this girl’s wrath so much that she followed us.

  “I’ll wake everyone up,” she continues in a loud whisper. “Have fun explaining what you and Sabine are doing out of your rooms!”

  I motion that I should go and appease her . . . keep her from making good on her threat. Sean shakes his head fiercely at me, mouthing no. Gil is the opposite, nodding and gesturing for me to go ahead. Sabine holds silent, keeping like a little mouse next to me, probably debating the wisdom of joining us.

  I tear my hand free from Sean and step out from the hedge before he can stop me.

  Addy’s gaze lands on me. “Hiding? Bit wimpy. Thought you were tougher than that. Where are the others?”