Thornhill (Hemlock) (22 page)

The rope dropped another five inches—all at once—and a small scream escaped my throat.

“It’s all right,” said my father. “Just keep moving.” There was a note in his voice I had never heard before. It took me a second to realize it was fear.

I tried to move faster, but adrenaline could only do so much, and because the rope had dipped, I was now forcing myself up an incline.

As I neared the water tower, I could hear the groan of metal. It sounded like the ladder was peeling away bolt by bolt. I didn’t dare look to see how far I had left to go.

Suddenly, strong arms grabbed me and pulled me off the rope. I expected Jason and was dumbstruck as I started into my father’s blue eyes.

“You okay?”

I managed a nod as we raced down the ladder.

Jason swept me into a hug as soon as my shoes touched the ground. I let him hold me for a few seconds and then gently pushed him away. “I’m okay, Jason, I’m fine.” I was superconscious of the group of ultratough werewolves standing a few feet away, and I didn’t want Hank to think that bringing me had been a mistake, that I’d fall apart every time there was trouble.

“The hug was to reassure myself, actually,” said Jason.

I was about to retort when Eve shouted to get back. Grabbing Jason’s hand, I ran from the tower.

With the tortured sound of twisting metal, the ladder gave way and crashed to the ground where we had just been standing.

I glanced at the fence. Sparks lit the night where the cable had become tangled in the wire.

Now there was no way out except through the main gate.

Eve turned to Hank. “Do you think they’ll send someone to check?”

He nodded. “Not right away—they’ll probably assume an animal got caught—but eventually.” He drew two of the wolves aside. “Stay here and watch the fence. If anyone shows up, keep them from contacting the rest of the camp and raising the alarm.”

“Without killing them,” added Jason.

Hank shot him the kind of look that said he might be tempted to do some killing of his own. “Without killing them—
if it can be helped
.”

Jason frowned but thankfully didn’t push. The last thing we needed was for my father to lose his temper and leave us at the fence with a couple of werewolf babysitters.

Eve retrieved one of the black bags. “You heard him,” she said as she unzipped the top flap and began handing out guns and magazines. “Bullets are a last resort. Don’t shoot unless you have to or unless someone has an HFD.”

Jason reached for a gun and she hesitated. She glanced at Hank. Only after he nodded did she hand one over.

“Smith and Wesson. Forty caliber.” Jason turned the gun over in his hands. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I figured werewolves would pack something bigger.”

“Not when we’re hunting regs,” said one of the other wolves.

Maybe it was my imagination, but Jason seemed to pale slightly. Without further comment, he loaded the magazine Eve handed him and then tucked the gun into the back of his waistband.

“Here,” she said, passing him the toolkit and device for testing the HFDs. “I went back to the greenhouse and snagged these before I left last night.”

She turned to me. “Gun?”

I shook my head. I knew how to shoot—I couldn’t count the number of times Jason had dragged me to the shooting range to act as a buffer between him and his father—but I was scared of what I might do if I was let loose in Thornhill with a gun—especially if Sinclair had hurt Kyle and Dex or done anything else to Serena.

I glanced in the direction of the sanatorium and pressed my nails into my palm, pressed them so hard I broke the skin.

No, me loose in Thornhill with a gun would not be a good idea.

To my surprise, Eve didn’t take one, either. “First thing we have to do is hit the laundry building,” she said as she tossed the bag to one of the wolves staying behind. “We’re not going to blend in dressed like this.”

Hank shouldered the other backpack and began giving orders. I tried to pay attention, but the lights from the camp kept pulling my gaze.
Please be all right
, I prayed.
We’re coming
.
Just hang on a little while longer
.

I tuned back in just as Hank finished. It didn’t matter: I already knew my part in the plan.

Jason and I fell into step behind the wolves as we headed toward the center of camp. To my surprise, Hank hung back.

“That charm still on your bracelet?” he asked, shooting a glance at my wrist.

I nodded and pushed up my sleeve. “Yeah.”

“Good. As long as you keep it on, I’ll know where you are.”

“I . . . umm . . . okay . . .” It didn’t seem like the kind of statement that should require a “thank-you,” but I felt like I had to say something. Maybe other daughters could take that sort of quasi-caring sentiment for granted—maybe Eve could take it for granted—but I wasn’t used to it and I wasn’t sure how to respond.

Hank seemed just as uncomfortable. He nodded once, and then returned to his place at the front of the group.

We left the fields and walked past the woods, then came to a stop as the camp loomed before us.

I took a deep breath and went to stand beside Eve.

We shared a brief glance—a second of perfect understanding—and then both looked ahead.

The last time we had entered Thornhill, we had been scared, helpless.

This time, we were coming to tear it down.

“S
OMETHING
’
S NOT RIGHT
.”
I STOPPED IN THE SHADOWS
next to a dormitory. “It’s too quiet.”

Jason glanced back at me. He had donned an olive uniform—the male equivalent of the outfits Eve and I had slipped into—and for all intents and purposes, he looked just like a Thornhill werewolf. “It’s after curfew,” he said, as if that explained everything.

It didn’t.

“There should still be something. Voices coming from open windows. Toilets flushing. Guards on patrol. There should still be some noise.”

But around us, the camp was as silent as a tomb.

Eve tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Mac’s right. It’s too quiet.”

“We’re wasting time.” The wolf Hank had sent with us—a man with a gray handlebar mustache and the faint trace of an unidentifiable accent—eased around us. “Curtis gave us a job and we have to get it done.”

We had split into two groups. The first—led by Hank—had headed for the sanatorium to take down Thornhill’s communications system. That would keep anyone from contacting the LSRB and make it harder for the guards inside the camp to coordinate a response once they realized they were under attack. After the communications system was down, they would blow the gates, providing a way in for the dozens of wolves who were lying in wait outside.

Once they accomplished those two things, Hank’s team would hit the detention block.

I hated that Serena, Kyle, and Dex came third, but I understood the reasoning: Without taking care of the communications system and the gates, we’d never be able to get them out of the camp. There was no way any of us would get out.

I had wanted to go with them, but I had convinced Hank he needed me to help combat the HFDs and he was holding me to that. The other team—my team—had been tasked with neutralizing the handheld versions of the device.

The HFDs were signed in and out at the beginning and end of each counselor’s shift. Any not in use—including extras in the event they were needed by guards—were stored in the vault, a room in the basement of the staff quarters, which also housed the traditional weapons like Tasers and guns.

Most of the counselors would be off duty by this time of night, so most of the HFDs should be signed in. All we had to do was get into the staff quarters without anyone raising the alarm, get down to the vault, destroy every HFD we could find, get back out without getting shot, and then rejoin Hank’s group.

Easy.

No problem at all.

Definitely not any sort of suicide mission.

The male wolf paused at the corner of the dorm. “Well?” he asked, shooting Eve an impatient look before rounding the building and disappearing from sight.

Eve hesitated, then shrugged. “He’s right. No matter what’s going on, the others are counting on us to hit the vault.” She headed after him.

I glanced at Jason. “We haven’t so much as seen a guard. Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”

He scanned the area around the dorm and frowned. He didn’t tell me I was wrong. “C’mon,” he said, after a moment. “If something is going on, we should stick close to the wolves.”

Knowing he was probably right and unsure what else we could do, I followed him around the building.

Eve and the other wolf had already darted over an expanse of grass and were waiting in the shadowy gulf between two classrooms.

No sooner had Jason and I taken a step toward them than a voice split the night. “Stay where you are!”

I whirled. Two guards were racing toward us, their Tasers drawn.

They slowed to a walk when they were still a few feet away. One pulled a radio from his belt. “We’ve got a couple more stragglers near the dorms.”

Wherever Hank’s team was, it was safe to say they hadn’t taken out the communications system yet.

I glanced over at the classrooms. Eve and the other wolf had disappeared. I couldn’t blame them. There wasn’t anything they could do. The guards had already radioed in. Knocking them out and running would just alert the rest of the camp to the fact that something was going on.

Next to me, Jason kept his head down and his eyes on the ground, trying to give the guards as little opportunity to recognize him as possible.

“Auditorium,” snapped the one with the radio. “Now.”

I saw Jason’s fingers twitch out of the corner of my eye. I held my breath, praying he wouldn’t do something stupid like go for the gun at his back.

I shouldn’t have worried.

Jason was reckless, but smart. The guards hadn’t hurt or threatened us. He left the gun where it was and started walking.

Stomach in knots, I fell into step next to him. First the trouble at the fence and now this—I fought back the thought that our plan had been cursed from the start.

The guards walked behind us. Neither holstered their Taser.

Why the auditorium?
I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to say or do anything that would make the guards suspicious.

I tugged my sleeves down as far as they would go, making sure my wrists were completely covered. The last thing I needed was for either guard to realize I wasn’t wearing a wrist cuff.

Amy’s bracelet, though hidden, was a reassuring weight.
As long as you keep it on, I’ll know where you are
. Hank’s words echoed back to me.

The irony of counting on my father after warning Eve not to do the same was not lost on me.

We rounded a bend in the path and the auditorium came into view.

I stopped so suddenly that Jason’s shoulder collided with mine.

I barely noticed. I was too busy trying to make sense of the scene in front of us.

Large spotlights blazed on each corner of the roof; they flooded the immediate area with light, obliterating any shadows someone might use to hide—but that wasn’t the bad part.

A circle of guards—what looked like almost every guard in Thornhill—surrounded the auditorium like a living net. They faced the building, their backs to the camp and their weapons drawn. A few held Tasers but most held guns.

All of the air rushed out of my lungs with a single thought:
Sinclair knows we’re here
.

I didn’t know how—maybe someone had gone to investigate the fence and slipped past Hank’s wolves—but why else would she gather every guard in one place?

One of the men behind us cleared his throat as a guard with a shaved head and a ridiculously thick neck strode up the path. “These are the two we found near the dorms.”

The bald guard turned his gaze on us. My heart thudded in my chest as I waited for him to realize we were part of the group who had infiltrated the camp. Any second, he would give the order for us to be dragged to the detention block in shackles.

“Dorms?”

“Seven and four,” I said, struggling to keep my voice blank.

He glanced at the men behind us. “We’ve got reports of a few more kids hiding in that old greenhouse. A couple of guards are already on their way, but they could probably use some help.” He shifted his focus back to Jason and me. “You two, inside.”

He didn’t know who we were. Something inside my chest unclenched a fraction of an inch. Even if they knew a group had breached the fence, they didn’t know we were part of it.

Jason tugged on my hand, urging me forward.

There were two guards covering the entrance to the auditorium. One stepped aside as we approached while the other pulled open the door.

I slipped my hand out of Jason’s: If there was trouble, I wanted him to have both hands free for the gun.

“Out of the frying pan,” I muttered.

“And straight into hell,” he finished.

The smell of sweat and an almost claustrophobic sense of mass hit me as I crossed the threshold. The number of wolves crammed inside the auditorium far exceeded the benches. Some sat in the aisles, others crouched between rows.

I glanced to my left and right. There were five guards on either side of the door. Unlike the ones outside, their weapons were still holstered—at least for now. Maybe they were worried about tipping a room full of anxious wolves from fear to panic.

And the wolves were frightened. It showed in the eyes of the ones who watched the guards and in the small noises some of them made as they cried. It was in the way most of them held themselves too still—as though they expected someone to strike or shoot them at any moment.

They’re too scared to do anything;
they’re the perfect hostages
. The thought was ice water dripping down my spine. What if Sinclair had been told about the planned breakout? Maybe there was a mole in Hank’s pack who had tipped her off. Maybe she had gathered the wolves as collateral.

My eyes slid to the front of the room. The same black-and-white posters covered the wall—CONTROL OVER ANGER, CONSTRAINT IS FREEDOM, YOUR DISEASE IS NOT A WEAPON—but the podium and folding chairs had been replaced by a small platform that looked as though it had been hastily nailed together. On it stood two program coordinators and the warden, their backs to the assembly as they discussed something in low tones.

Jason clamped his hand around my arm. “Don’t do anything,” he hissed as he pulled me toward the nearest aisle.

“Why?” I asked as I sank to the floor next to him. “What would I do?” As much as I wanted to strangle Sinclair, it wasn’t like I was going to rush the stage. Not with ten guards in the room and more waiting outside.

Jason didn’t answer and he didn’t relax his hold on my arm; if anything, he tightened his grip.

Two women joined the group onstage. One was Langley, the other was the woman who had injected Serena with some unknown drug or poison in the videos. She adjusted her glasses and gave the crowd of wolves a nervous glance.

An echo of Serena’s voice—shaking as she begged them to stop—filled my head. I thought of the gun hidden at Jason’s back as a wave of anger swelled in my chest, so thick and black that I practically choked on it.

Jason swore under his breath as the group moved to the edge of the dais. Suddenly, I knew why he was gripping my arm, what he must have glimpsed when we first entered the auditorium. It wasn’t Sinclair or even the women who had tortured Serena.

I started to rise, and Jason shifted his hand to my shoulder, forcing me back down while whispering a frantic stream of comfort and caution in my ear.

“You can’t help him. If you draw attention to us, it’ll all be over. It’s okay. They’ll be okay.”

I shook my head and bit the inside of my cheek—bit it so hard I tasted copper—to stop the flood of sounds threatening to punch a hole through my chest.

Kneeling on the platform were Kyle and Dex. Thick manacles encircled their wrists and were connected by chains that were bolted to the stage. Kyle’s eyes were locked on Sinclair, but Dex stared at the floor in front of the dais as though he didn’t have the strength to raise his head. Someone had clubbed Dex’s temple at some point; blood had run down his face and etched each of his scars in red.

Kyle’s face was unmarked, but his shirt clung to him, the fabric darkened by stains. I tried to convince myself the stains were sweat—and some probably were—but most of the patches were too dark and had left the fabric too stiff to be anything other than blood.

How many hours?
My stomach flipped and tears filled my eyes. Kyle and Dex were werewolves: as long as their captors paused to let them heal, their bodies would always be able to take more. Jason and I had been gone for nearly an entire day. Sinclair or Langley or the guards could have tortured them the entire time.

“Kyle . . .” The whisper was so low that it was barely more than my lips forming the shape of his name, but his body still tensed.

His dark eyes swept the crowd and then filled with shock and fear as they found mine. My pulse had been racing from the moment the guards had spotted Jason and me; now it climbed so high I felt like I was having a heart attack. For a moment, I worried surprise and confusion would make Kyle say or do something to give us away, but he buried his emotions as his gaze slid to Jason. The heavy chain tethering him to the dais had a slight amount of give and he wrapped the excess around his hand—almost like a makeshift knuckle ring.

Jason was still gripping my shoulder. He glanced from Kyle to me and then back. When he was certain that I wasn’t going to do anything crazy, he dropped his hand and pulled slightly away.

“What are we going to do?”

He didn’t answer.

Think
. I had to think. But before I could come up with the slightest idea, Sinclair strode back across the stage.

Even at a distance, her blue eyes were too bright and the wrinkles in her suit seemed permanent. She looked like someone who had substituted Red Bull for sleep. But her voice, when she spoke, didn’t sound tired. It was sharp and focused and filled with threats.

“I’ll give you one more chance. Last night, three wolves were spotted outside after curfew. They led dozens of guards on an extensive chase and wasted
hours
of resources. Two of those wolves are behind me. I want to know where to find the third. Eve. Dorm Seven. ID one-three-four-eight. She wasn’t in her bed this morning. She didn’t report for class or her work detail. She is somewhere in this camp, and someone in this room had to have seen something.”

I glanced at Jason and saw the same confusion on his face that must have shown on mine. This was all about
Eve
? The wolves weren’t being held as some sort of bargaining chip against Hank and the pack?

That’s why the guards are facing the building
, I realized. If Sinclair knew an attack was coming—if she knew the camp had been infiltrated—the guards would be facing out, not in.

But why Eve? Why would the warden drag every wolf here over one girl?

Sinclair waited.

No one moved. No one spoke.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe none of you saw a thing? No one so much as noticed her slip out after curfew?”

Again, silence.

Sinclair’s gaze swept over us—blue fire hot enough to scorch. I slouched down, praying to go unnoticed. After a moment, when no one came forward, she slipped an HFD from her pocket and pressed the trigger. Most of the wolves collapsed, including Kyle.