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“Need a boost?” a voice calls out from below. I glance down and see Marcus.

“You came!” I say, all my fear turning into joy at the sight of a familiar face.

“Yes I did,” he answers. “I realized it was the right thing to do. Now stop talking and let me get you over.”

Marcus starts to climb up beneath me, his weight making the fence seem to sway. I hold on tightly to the fence. Marcus reaches me quickly. He takes pliers out of his pocket and cuts through my necklace, before throwing both over the fence. He then takes a few steps down, cups my foot with one hand, and hoists my leg over the top. The barbed wire is a few inches below me and I’m terrified of slipping.

“You’re almost there,” he says. “Easy, easy.”

“STOP IMMEDIATELY!” A voice yells out from below. I can hear the sound of footsteps and more shouting. “STOP OR I’LL SHOOT!”

Suddenly there’s the sound of a siren screaming through the night. The only time I’ve heard it before was during a fire drill a month ago.

“Marcus!” I cry out. “I’m scared, Marcus! I’m scared!”

Suddenly I hear the sound of a gun being fired. Marcus makes a muffled sound. Using all of his strength, he pushes my other foot over the fence, then falls to the ground himself.
He’s been shot! He’s been shot
! In a panic I grab at the top of the fence, the barbed wire ripping through my palms. I scream and then drop to the ground on the other side of the fence, landing on a bush.

“DON’T MOVE!” The guard yells in my direction and another shot is fired.

Despite my ripped hands, despite the even sharper pain in my ankle, I get off the ground and race away into the darkness, my veins flowing with adrenaline, fueled by fear and anger.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!

—Paddy Chayefsky

I cross a
road and run straight towards the woods on the other side, the same woods I ran through during my first escape from Harmony. Except this time is different. This time there’s no Peter or car waiting for me on the other side. Should I risk standing on that same dirt road, hoping someone else will drive by and pick me up?
But how will I know if I can trust them
? Once away from any lights, I’m completely blind. I walk for several minutes with my hands leading me, often hitting branches or the trunks of trees with my cut palms. When I think I’m in far enough, I stop, and collapse onto the ground, knowing I can’t do anything more until morning.

The night is the longest I’ve ever experienced. Once in a while I start to doze off, only to have my head jerk me awake again, the rain continuing to pound down. As dawn starts to break I notice my ankle has become numb. As light slowly fills the woods, I turn my hands over in front of me and see long shreds of skin where my palms used to be. The blood has hardened and bits of dirt and stone are ground into the wounds. From my long-ago days earning my first aid badge at summer camp, I know too well that if I don’t get help soon, infection could set in. I look down at my ankle, which has swollen grotesquely.
Could it be broken
?

I then think of Marcus, and how he fell off the fence like a giant tree being cut down. While I know the shot would have been full of tranquilizers and not bullets, I also know whatever awaits him for helping me escape cannot be good. Thinking about Marcus and how I basically forced him to help me fills me with guilt and remorse.
What have I done
?

I try to force myself to stand, but as soon as I put any weight on my left ankle, I fall back to the ground. I take off my pajama top, not caring that I only have a soaking wet undershirt left on, and try and wrap my ankle as tightly as I can, vaguely remembering something about the importance of binding injuries. I then pull myself up with the help of a nearby tree, using a thick stick as a crutch. Once standing, my resolve returns. If I’m to help the Group in any way, I need to reach Dr. Kaufman. Too much has happened to give up now.

I decide to follow the dirt road, while staying in the border of the woods. Having heard the sound of police sirens on and off all morning, I know too well they’re searching for me. As more time passes, the numbness in my ankle turns to a complete lack of feeling. It’s like my left foot doesn’t even exist. Slowly I walk in what I hope is the right direction, sitting down whenever I feel at risk of blacking out. I’m not sure how much time goes by, other than it seems like it’s become late afternoon. The pain in my palms has been replaced by a thirst that’s so intense it hurts. If I don’t get something to drink soon, I’ll be in trouble. I collapse against a tree stump, not able to go any further. Too late, I realize I was so focused on my escape I didn’t give enough thought to what I’d actually do once I got out. Did I think Dr. Kaufman would magically appear before me and I would somehow be saved? And if so, how could I have been so stupid? The truth is that Thornhill could be as far away as New York right now; it’s not as if I’m going to get to either place any time soon.

At some point I must doze off, because I’m awakened by a strange man tapping my leg with his boot. I fall backwards, hitting my head against the stump.

“Are you with The Association?” I whisper.

The man laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says, “but no, I’m not.”

It’s only then that I notice how scruffy he looks, dressed in old jeans and a t-shirt, his chin covered with what looks like the bristles of a broom.

The man looks me over, clearly sizing me up. “You from Harmony?” he asks. Before I answer, he nods to himself. “Yep, that’s got to be it. You’re the one the sirens have been for.”

“Are you going to turn me in?” I whisper again, my voice hoarse and dry.

The man shakes his head. “I won’t turn you in, but I will take you wherever you need to go, assuming it’s no more than an hour’s drive,” he says. “Not much gas left in the tank.”

He reaches out a hand towards me. I hesitate for a moment, then put my hand out in turn and let him pull me up.
Sometimes you just need to trust
.

gh

Even with me using the man’s shoulder for a crutch instead of my stick, it still takes about half an hour to reach his car, as I can’t use my left foot at all anymore. When we reach the vehicle, I almost start to weep.
Maybe it’s not over, after all
. As the man opens the back door, I ask him his name, but he ignores me.

“Don’t be insulted if I ask you to lie down on the floor once we get moving,” he says. “I’m sure they’re still looking for you.”

I nod and crouch on the floor in the back, trying not to jostle my ankle. The man slams the door, then sits down in the front seat. He pulls out a thermos, pours what looks like coffee into the lid, then hands it over to me. Not caring what I’m drinking, I gulp down the lukewarm liquid, hand him back the lid, then gulp down the second cup he hands me.

“Thanks,” I say, my voice still hoarse. “But who are you?”

“How about I ask you a question instead?” he says. He pulls out a car key and places it in the ignition. “Where do you need to go?”

“Thornhill. To see a woman named Dr. Kaufman.”

The man’s hand freezes on the key. “She’s a Psychologist from The Association.” His voice is level, but I can hear the fear in his words, and feel it vibrate in the air between us like a guitar string. The man turns in his seat and looks directly at me. “I know from the description I was given that you’re not Anna,” he says. “So exactly who are you?”

“Anna? Who’s she?” The man remains silent. “No, I’m not her. I’m Sophie Jenkins.” Afraid that my last name may frighten the man more, I rush to get everything else I need to say out. “My father is Dr. Jenkins from The Association, but I don’t believe in anything he stands for, and neither does Dr. Kaufman! Or at least, I don’t think she believes in what he and the other Heads want to do! I just escaped from Harmony and need to see her! Please, please help me!”

The man looks at me for a few seconds longer, clearly sizing me up. He then reaches into his glove box and pulls out a cell phone.

“Please don’t call the police! Please!”

He ignores me and silently presses different buttons. He looks briefly at the screen, then rips something out of the back of the phone and tosses it out the window. “Okay, got the address,” he says, starting the ignition. “My name is Craig, by the way.”

gh

As I lie down in the back floor of the car, wincing at each bump we drive over, Craig begins to talk.

“You’re lucky you met me when you did,” he says, turning a corner sharply. “From the looks of that ankle, you wouldn’t have made it on your own for too much longer.” He straightens the car out and starts driving on what feels like smooth asphalt. “And before you ask, yes, I am
that
Craig. I was asked by the Group to pick up someone named Anna who was supposed to escape last night. First time I agree to do something like this and I end up waiting here all night. I heard the sirens on and off, and figured she’d either been caught or hadn’t remembered where to meet me. Coming across you was what could be called serendipity, I suppose, although perhaps not so wonderful for Anna. Let’s just hope she heard about your breakout and she was smart enough to put a lid on her attempted escape.”

“Anna?” I whisper. I try and imagine each patient at Harmony, but there’s just too many, each now trapped behind a circle of barbed wire.

Craig makes another sharp turn and I hold my breath to stop from screaming.

“My guess is that neither of you knew about the other’s plan. She’s a Third Year from ESFP, so there’s no reason you’d know each other.”

“Hannah,” I whisper.

“Hannah? Who’s that?”

“My sister. She’s at ESFP.”

“Well, Hannah and Anna do rhyme,” he says, letting out a short laugh. “Regardless, I assume you didn’t let anyone else in the Group know about you plans to break out?”

“No. I just thought—“

Craig ignores me and continues driving, occasionally muttering to himself. “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to get involved in all of this crap. Isn’t it enough that I spend part of my paycheque on all of you, out of loyalty to my best friend? It’s one thing to bring out boxes of food once in a while, but this? This is too damn much, Jack Philips! Too much!” He laughs again, the sound more like a cackle. “
Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in
!”

“I thought you only brought food,” I whisper. “Noah said that was all you did.”

More cackling. “Do you think just because you’re Sophie Jenkins people are going to tell you everything? You, still a child, who clearly doesn’t follow orders given to her by her own brother?”

Instead of answering, I close my eyes, welcoming the darkness that soon comes.

The next time I open my eyes, the car has stopped and the door is being opened. “It took me a while to find this place, but we’re here,” Craig says, looking down at me.

“Now you just wait here while I ring the doorbell,” he says, walking away.

I close my eyes again, too focused on the pain to worry what this woman is going to say when Dr. Jenkins’ fugitive daughter unexpectedly shows up at her door, begging for her help.

In a minute, Craig and Dr. Kaufman return to the car together. I lift my head up just long enough to see the look on her face, and I know I’m safe here. I just know.

Together they reach into the car and try and pull me out. I scream in pain as my ankle is moved.

“Just be brave a minute longer,” Dr. Kaufman says, her voice as gentle as my own mother’s. “We’ll make you comfortable in no time.”

I clench my teeth together and will my body to go limp. Together the man and woman push-pull me out of the backseat and carry me into the house. Within moments I’m lying on a beautiful sofa, my blood starting to soak through the upholstery.

“Do you want to stay and rest for a while?” Dr. Kaufman asks Craig. “Perhaps have something to eat or drink?”

Craig laughs his strange laugh. “Thank you, but no,” he says. “I’ll be no help to anyone if I’m found here, in the company of an Association Psychologist. No offense meant, of course!”

“None taken,” she says.

Before leaving, Craig leans down and whispers in my ear. “I’ll let the Group know you’re okay.”

He then abruptly stands up, and heads to the door. Dr. Kaufman locks it behind him, before rushing back to me.

“Sophie! Please tell me what’s going on! Why are you here and what has happened to you?”

I look up at her, confused. “How do you know my name?”

“I know the names of all the Heads’ children,” she says. “I had dinner a few times at your parents’ home when you were younger. You probably just don’t remember.”

I shake my head, then groan. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“Please don’t apologize,” she says.

“Okay, Dr. Kaufman.”

“That’s Yael to you.” She smiles briefly, then looks serious once more. “Now first things, first. I need to try and clean your wounds and get you some medical help.”

“Not the hospital!” I beg. I try to sit up, but the pain forces me back down. “Please! They’ll call my father and he’ll kill me! Please!”

“Your father won’t kill you, Sophie. He may be disappointed in whatever you’ve been doing, but kill you?”

I lean against one elbow, wincing more at the pain. “He tried to kill my brother!” I shout, then fall back against the cushions, exhausted. I force myself to calm down. “He thinks he did kill him. Or at least allowed the others to kill him. James was put on the End list and he was supposed to get Ended! It’s only because his interventionist let him escape that he’s alive! And now Marcus will probably get Ended, too, and it’s all my fault!” My voice starts to rise again, despite my efforts.

“Hold on, hold on, Sophie, you’re not making sense.”

“Getting Ended! Like they do with the kids who have mental problems! There’s a list and everything! And they do it to kids who disobey The Association, too! My friend Brendan just got Ended! It’s true! It’s true!”

“Calm down, sweetie. You’re feverish and in intense pain. We don’t have to go to the hospital, but we do need to get you immediate medical help. Let me call my cousin to come. He’s a physician; he will help.”