Damage (24 page)

“She’s gone.” I sit back and buckle my seat belt, but I can’t keep myself from finding Dad’s reflection in the rearview mirror. He looks so small, so entirely beaten. I bite my lip. I refuse to feel sorry for him or to think about what might happen to him out here in the woods, with the early winter night approaching and the temperature dropping close to zero.

“He’ll be okay. The cabins can’t be far,” Jesse says. “He’ll get inside one of them and be able to call for help. Or at least make a fire and stay warm.”

“Right.” I thread my fingers together and hold on tight, trying to keep my hands from shaking. It feels like a thousand butterflies have been freed beneath my skin. Their wings beat frantically against my heart and lungs as they try to find a way out, but they can’t. They’re trapped. Just like me.

Now that the anger is gone, there’s only fear, desperation. It feels like I’m falling and falling and I don’t know when I’m going to stop. I’ve lost my dad, and my best friend, and my life as I knew it. Jesse and I can’t ever go home again. Not ever.

I wonder if he knows.

“We should head north and try to get across the border,” Jesse says as he pulls out onto the main road. “If we have to, we can cross on foot and walk until we find a town. We should get some new clothes and dye our hair or something. Try to make it harder for them to find us while we figure out what to do next.”

He knows.

“We can move a lot faster than they can, so we won’t freeze on the way through the woods. And maybe crossing the border will buy us some time.” He pushes the car faster, faster, until our speed starts to feel dangerous.

My stomach flips over and my brain demands that I tell Jesse to slow down, but I don’t. We’ll be fine. Even if we crash. My brain is still living in the old Danielle, the one who didn’t have supernatural powers, who couldn’t run like a gazelle or heal a gunshot wound in less than an hour or beat people bloody with her new imaginary weapon.

Not people.
Dad
. Dad is back there. Beaten. Hurting.
Because of me
.

My throat closes up and more tears sting into my eyes as I turn to look back. I know I won’t see him, but still … I have to look back. One last time.

It’s a good thing I do. I’m sure Jesse would have noticed it eventually, but maybe not as soon as I have. Soon enough to give us a chance.

“Someone’s back there,” I say. “A car.”

It’s the only other car we’ve seen for several hours, a sleek black machine with shining bug-eye headlights that glow orange in the gray light. It doesn’t look like a car that belongs to someone heading north for a weekend in the wilderness during the coldest part of the year. It looks like a car made for going fast, going unnoticed, getting in and out without anyone remembering it at the scene of the crime.

Jesse grunts and pushes the pedal even closer to the floor. Behind us, the black car speeds faster, keeping up, even gaining a few feet.

“Shit,” Jesse says, obviously coming to the same conclusion. There’s only one reason the car behind us is on this road. The hunt for Jesse and Dani isn’t over.

“It’s the men from the hospital.” The outline of the two men in the car swims into focus. “I can’t see their faces, but it has to be them.”

“We can’t be that far from the border.” Jesse gives the car more gas and the engine groans. “Maybe there will be someone there.”

“Someone who will think those guys are FBI agents and we’re stupid kids who’ve done something illegal.” I cling to the handle over the window as Jesse whips around the next curve. The wheels barely stay on the road. “Even if they believe us, Agent Bullock already shot that nurse at the hospital. I don’t think he cares if—”

“So you think we should take care of this before we get to the border?”

My mouth opens and closes. Is that what I think? I don’t know. All I know is that I’m scared, and only getting more scared as Jesse reaches for the gun Dad dropped into the front seat.

“You think you can bring Rachel back?” he asks.

Can I? Does he want me to kill someone with Rachel? Is he going to kill someone with that gun? Do we have any other choice?

“Dani?”

I nod. “I can. I’m ready.” I’m not, but that doesn’t matter. If today has taught me anything, it’s that life—and death—don’t wait for you to be ready.

Jesse

I force down the acid rising in my throat, ignore the pulse pounding in my ears and the terror creeping across my skin.

I saw it a few minutes back—a flash of green in the shadows under the trees, a spot of red in the frozen snow. The Thing. Starving myself isn’t going to hold it off much longer. It’s coming. It could be here any second. I can feel it, like a muscle ready to rip and take me out of the game.

Maybe it’ll jump onto the car and burst through the windshield like last time. Or maybe it’ll pop up in the back seat, lean over, and rip out Dani’s throat before I can pull my hands from the wheel. I can almost see the way her blood will splash onto the dash as the dragon comes for me and the car spins out of control.

No. You’re in control. You won’t let it hurt her. You won’t let anything hurt her.

“Get ready. I’m going to turn the car to face them as soon as I get the chance.” I grip the wheel tight as we zip around another sharp curve. “But don’t get out of the car unless you have to. It’ll give us some cover if they start shooting.”

“Okay,” she says, her voice not much more than a whisper.

I risk a quick look over at her side of the car. Dani is as white as the snow flashing past outside. What she did to her dad really messed her up. I have to get her somewhere safe where we can eat and rest and I can convince her that we’re going to be all right. Maybe a hotel, something small on the Canadian side of the border.

The thought of spending the night with Dani, of holding her until her breath slows and she falls asleep in my arms, is enough to send a rush of determination surging inside me. I want that night with her. I want every night and all the days in between. I want to be the one to keep her safe, to be the person she can count on no matter what happens.

But before I can promise her safety, I have to prove myself. Sooner or later, I’ll have to face the Thing and show it who’s boss. I just hope I won’t have to show it right now, while Dani and I are being chased by a couple of flesh-and-blood killers. With guns.

God.
Do I even know how to use this kind of gun? I think I do, at least well enough to keep the bullets flying in the right direction. It’s a handgun, semi-automatic, and more proof that Dani’s dad is a lot more dangerous than he looks. I could tell he was thinking about blowing my brains out for a while there. Maybe he would have, if Dani hadn’t brought Rachel in to kick his ass.

Too bad that doesn’t make the thought of shooting at people any easier to stomach. I’ve been in my share of fights, but I’ve never used a knife or a gun in them. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone, even by accident. Now I have no choice. If I don’t shoot a few holes in that car, Dani and I won’t make it out of here. I have to risk causing a deadly accident, or that a shot might go wild and kill one of the men in the car.

Good. You should kill them. If you don’t, you and Dani will never be safe.

We’re never going to be safe anyway. If I kill those men, the people they work for will just hire more. If Dr. Connor was telling the truth and there’s no way to reverse the changes to our DNA, Dani and I are going to be on the run or hiding from evil assholes for the rest of our lives.

The thought makes my chest hitch. I’ll never sit on that lumpy couch with Trent watching crappy movies again. I’ll never convince Traci she isn’t as stupid as she thinks she is, that she could pull it together and get her dental assistant’s license renewed if she tried. I’ll never get to tell either of them thanks for doing what they did—for giving me a home and something that felt a little bit like a family.

Of course, they were my roommates, and occasionally my friends, more than my parents. But we’ve had some good times mixed in with the bad. We made fun of reality shows together, fried chicken on Saturday nights, spent rainy Sunday afternoons playing cards. We went down to the bar after Trent got off work and shot pool, and headed out to the woods every November to hunt for meat to fill the deep-freeze in the garage …

But now it’s time to hunt something a lot more dangerous than a deer. Something I have no doubt is going to fight back.

The road opens up around the next curve, stretching straight for another mile or more, every inch of it as deserted as this narrow highway has been for hours. We aren’t going to find a better spot.

“Hold on. I’m going to turn around.” Dani braces herself and I brake hard, turning the wheel to the left, sending the car spinning in a circle. Dani sucks in a frightened breath I can barely hear over the squeal of tires.

By the time we grind to a stop in the middle of the road, both of us are breathing faster but we’re pointed in the right direction. We’re facing the car bearing down on us, waiting for it to make its appearance around the curve. When it does, I’m going to be ready.

I rack the gun, sliding the first bullet into the chamber. I lower the window and lean out, taking aim at the road. I’ve never shot a semi-automatic before—the only gun I’ve ever touched is a rifle during deer season—but I’m a pretty good shot. Hopefully good enough to hit the wheels or something else that keeps the car moving, and make sure these guys won’t be following us any farther.

If I succeed, maybe Dani won’t have to call Rachel out again. Maybe we’ll make a clean getaway and start a new life in Canada. Maybe we’ll take new names, find a place to stay, pretend to have some absent grown-up looking out for us, and settle down with Rachel and the Thing and live happily ever after.

And maybe the tooth fairy will fly down and pay me for all those teeth she never bothered to snag from under my pillow.

I hear the hissing sound behind me just seconds before the black car zips around the corner. The Thing. It’s here. Trouble ahead and behind, and me and Dani stuck in the middle and I don’t know what to do.

I hesitate a second too long, hunger and exhaustion and the endless adrenaline of the day finally catching up with me and making me slow, stupid, useless. Before I can decide whether to shoot the car or turn and face the beast, a gunshot cracks through the air. A second later, my hand explodes.

Blood—hot and bright—splatters into my face, across the calm beige of the car door, down onto the pavement where a pale worm of a thing twitches on the ground next to the gun. It takes me a second to realize the worm isn’t a worm at all. It’s a finger. My finger. Shot right off my body but still moving.

And then the fire blasts the back of my neck, reminding me I have bigger things to worry about than a stupid finger.

Dani screams. I scream louder, a hoarse cry that rips through my chest the same way the pain rips through my body. My nerve endings rage and agony flows up my arm, scalding the skin at my neck. I spin, trying to get a look at the Thing, but there’s only fire, red and orange and yellow, eating up Dr. Connor’s nice leather seats. The entire back of the car is going up. We have to get out.

Slowly, I become aware of hands tugging at my clothes, pulling me from the driver’s seat.

“Come on!” Dani pulls harder. Her eyes squeeze shut and her cheeks flush red. She’s already outside, halfway to some sort of safety, but determined to pull danger out with her. “Jesse, come on! Hurry!”

I try to force my legs to lift over the gearshift and step out the door, but my muscles won’t cooperate. I can’t move, can’t think, can only watch open-mouthed and horrified as the Thing slinks up behind Dani.

“Stop! Leave her alone!” I scream, trying to believe words will make a difference. “Go away! Get the fuck out of here!” But the dragon just smiles its bloody smile and bares its sharp teeth. “Run, Dani! The Thing’s right there. Behind you!”

“I won’t leave you! Come with me!” She grabs my good hand and tugs hard enough to scoot me a few inches further from the flames licking at the back of my seat. But even her super strength isn’t super enough to pull two-hundred and twenty-five pounds of dead weight out of a car by one hand.

It’s too late anyway. The Thing is so close to her now, there’s no way she’ll be able to escape. It’s going to kill her just to prove there’s nothing it can’t take away. It’ll take the girl I love, and then it will take my life the way it tried to so many times when I was a kid.