Authors: Anya Parrish
Tags: #teen, #teen fiction, #Young Adult, #Young adult fiction, #Thriller
She’s probably one of the good guys, and she’ll obviously do anything to help Dani. But how to reach her? It’s not like we’re going to find a pay phone out in the middle of the woods, and Dani’s dad threw her cell away. Even if I pick her up and carry her down the road until we get to a place where we can use a phone, there’s no guarantee we’ll—
Wind whistles through the trees, sending snow gusting into the road. It sticks to the spots of red on the pavement and starts to melt in the blood at the edge of the street. The dead guy. He’s been ripped apart, but there’s a chance …
Most men carry their cell phones in their pockets.
“What’s Penny’s number?” I get Dani to repeat it twice so I’ll be sure to remember it, just in case she’s not awake by the time I get back with the phone.
The thought makes me hug her as tight as I dare before laying her gently on the ground. I kiss her forehead, scared by how cold she feels. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go look for a phone. I’m … ” My throat squeezes so tight it’s hard to breathe. Looking at Dani’s face doesn’t make it any easier. I’ve never felt so much for a person, never known my entire future could live or die if one pair of brown eyes closed forever.
“I’m so sorry.” I rub my good hand across my eyes, shocked by the wet heat streaming down my cheeks. I’m crying. For the first time since I was a little kid praying for my mom to come home and tell me that she loved me and make everything okay with a hug and a kiss.
But she hadn’t come, and she’d never loved me. Not like this. Not in the way that makes your entire body ache imagining how empty life will be without the person you love. Still, it isn’t easy to say the words. I’m afraid. Not afraid of saying it for the first time, just afraid that the first time will be the last.
“I love you.” My voice catches, betraying my fear. “Don’t die, Dani. Please.”
Her hand finds mine. “I won’t. Hurry. You’re hurt.”
I look down. My pointer finger is a stump with a shard of bone peeking out. Dani brushes it lightly with her fingers and her eyebrows draw together. She’s the one whose insides are about to spill out and she’s worried about
me
. Because she loves me, too.
I can’t lose her. I just … can’t. I press a quick kiss to lips even colder than her skin, and turn and run for the mess on the side of the road.
Mess. Just a mess. Not a person. Not a person I
killed
.
I keep my eyes firmly above the shredded flesh and do my best not to look into the dead man’s eyes. A part of me is tempted to close his lids, but I don’t. I can’t stand the thought of touching his face. I don’t want to touch any part of him, but I make myself throw open his jacket and pick through the inner pockets of his suit coat.
One is shredded and soaked with blood and the other holds a slim wallet with nothing in it but a driver’s license, a couple of credit cards, and sixty bucks. I stuff the money in my pocket—Dani and I will need cash—and turn him over. I check what’s left of his belt, trying not to puke as his guts spill out the back of him.
Intestines. Those are intestines. I think about the illustrations in my bio book, concentrate on naming all the parts of the body I can remember as I push the slimy stuff out of the way. I find the other half of the belt and track my fingers along the leather. Finally, I find what feels like a cell phone case and I pull it—dripping with gore—from the mess.
I almost puke for real then, but I don’t. I hold it in, clamp my lips together and suck my stomach in tight as I wipe off the blood and unsnap the leather case. The phone inside is wet, but not too wet. The case protected it from the worst of the …
I swallow. Hopefully it will still work, hopefully I’ll have bars, hopefully Dani’s stepmom will answer and make it here in time.
Hope, hope, hope, pray, pray, pray.
I flick the phone open and watch the screen turn green, hoping and praying some more that the one tiny block on the upper left hand side is enough of a signal to reach Penny.
My thumbs jab at the buttons and the call connects and suddenly I’m so aware of the chill in the air and the fire in my hand and the phantom feel of that missing finger and the blood soaking through my jeans and the hard ground beneath my knees. Three seconds, four, and somewhere in the darkening forest a crow calls again and again, and still there’s no answer on the end of the line. My hands shake so hard I’m afraid I’ll drop the phone. Deep inside, a cold, lonely, stillness spreads beneath my skin.
And then—faint and scratchy—a voice says “hello.” My heart slams in my chest. I turn back to Dani. I want her to know that her stepmom has picked up, I want—
I choke on the words rising in my mouth. Dani’s eyes are closed and the hand she was pressing to her middle has slipped to the ground. She lies still on the asphalt, her fingers curled the softest bit. She looks like she’s sleeping, but I know she’s unconscious.
Or dead.
“Hello? Who is this?” Penny’s voice comes again. She sounds scared, stuffy, like she’s been crying and couldn’t stop before she answered the phone. I try to say something, to answer her question, but there’s a lump in my throat that won’t let the words come out. “Hello? Dani? Is this you? Honey?”
Dani. Adrenaline shoots through my body. “No, this is Jesse. I’m with Dani, but she’s hurt, maybe even dying.” I try to catch my breath, but can’t and continue in a whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Oh my God,” Penny says. “Where are you, Jesse? Can you call an ambulance, are you—”
“No, we’re almost to Canada. We’re stuck on the side of the road.” I tell her the highway name and the mile marker, as close as I can remember. “Dr. Connor was taking us to a cabin to meet some people, but he … ”
How to tell her that her husband tried to kill me? How to tell her that terrorists want to kidnap me and Dani? How to tell her that the entire world has gone crazy and make her believe it enough to help me keep Dani safe? I have no idea. Thank God I don’t have to explain.
“Don’t worry, Jesse. I’m getting in the car right now.” I hear a door slam and the quality of her voice changes. “I’m not far from you. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes.”
Thank God
. The news makes me shudder and a sob of relief slip from my lips.
“Barrett told me I was supposed to meet him and Dani at a hunting lodge near the border. He said we’d be entering the witness protection program because of his work, but I called one of my old friends from the FBI on the way up here. No one in the witness protection program ever contacted Barrett, and he’s being investigated for … several things.” She pauses, and I know I’m supposed to speak, but it’s still so hard. “Jesse, are you there?”
“I’m here.” I let out a sigh that sounds as broken as I feel. “Just … hurry. If you can. There were some men here with guns. One of them might be back soon and Dani’s eyes are closed and I don’t know … I don’t know what to do.”
“Oh no. Was she shot? Is she—”
“No. She was cut, but it’s bad.”
“But there were people there with guns?” Penny asks, talking slowly and carefully like she’s not sure I’m in my right mind. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m not. “Are you two safe for a few more minutes? Until I get there? Is there anywhere you can hide or—”
“I think we’re okay for a few more minutes. But the car is on fire. And I’m … I’m not good.” I’m worse than not good. I’m numb all over and the cold just keeps getting colder. The sight of Dani lying there so still has accomplished what a day filled with terror hasn’t. I’m losing it.
Going … going …
“Okay. Just stay away from the car and keep Dani warm. It’s freezing out there and she could go into shock. Are you in another car? Can you turn on the heat?”
“No, but I’ll … ” I stagger to my feet and stumble a few wooden steps before collapsing by Dani’s side. She’s breathing, slow and shallow, but steady. I sob again as I strip off my sweater and lay it over her. I take her limp hand in my whole one and pray that Penny will get here fast.
“Jesse? Can you hear me?”
“Dani’s alive,” I say, finding it harder and harder to form words. “I covered her with my sweater.”
“Okay. Good job. Just hold on, honey,” she says, such genuine warmth in her voice that I feel that lump rise in my throat again. “You’re going to be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”
The lump becomes another sob and more stupid tears, but I can’t seem to stop them. I can’t be strong anymore. Penny’s kindness—and how damned relieved I am to hear somebody tell me everything is going to be okay—slams the ugly truth home with a vengeance.
I’m not a grown-up; I can’t handle this. I’m seventeen years old and the only real friend I’ve ever had might be dying on the ground next to me and I’m helpless. I’ve proved I can destroy things, kill people, but I can’t heal Dani. I can’t do anything but hold her hand and wish for her life harder than I’ve ever wished for anything.
Jesse
I shrink inside myself. Movement becomes impossible. The weight of fear crushes my chest. I can’t think. Can’t speak. I can’t respond when Penny tells me she can see me, and that she’ll be here any second. I don’t even look up when a car roars in from the north and comes to a rubber-squealing stop a dozen yards away. If it’s one of the bad guys, let them have me. If it’s Penny, she’ll—
Suddenly, Penny’s next to me, her hand gentle on my back. She tells me I “did a good job” and then turns her full attention to her stepdaughter. She kneels by Dani’s shoulders, cups Dani’s cheek for a second before lifting the sweater covering her stomach and letting it fall back into place with a gasp. “What happened? Was it an animal?”
“No, it was a … some kind of knife.” Better to keep things vague. Now isn’t the time to start talking about imaginary enemies, altered DNA, and the psychic manifestations of my overactive immune system.
“God. She’s just a kid. I don’t … ” Penny presses the back of her shaking hand to her lips before going back in, this time lifting the sweater for several seconds, pulling at the torn sweatshirt, revealing the gashes in Dani’s skin.
The four scratches are an ugly red, but not nearly as big as they were a few minutes ago. The open wounds have closed and there’s nothing spilling out. She’s healing. She’s going to be okay. My eyes flick to her face and I sigh again, this time in relief. A flush of pink is returning to her cheeks.
“I should call 911,” Penny says. “I didn’t see a town big enough for a hospital for miles on this side, but maybe I missed something.”
“No, she’s better. I think she’s going to be okay, at least to ride in the car for a while. We should get farther away before we stop,” I say, hoping Penny will believe me. “A few minutes ago I could see … stuff under the skin. She’s already better.”
Penny shoots me a strange look. “Are you sure? In just a few—”
“I can try to explain, but we should drive while I do it.” I kneel by Dani and slide my arms under her knees and shoulders. Penny stops me with a hand on my arm.
“Jesse, I really don’t think we should move her. She’s lost a lot of blood and could have internal injuries. We don’t know if it’s okay to—”
“I know she’s
not
going to be okay if we’re still here when the guys with guns come back. They already shot at us twice.” I don’t tell her about the bullet in my shoulder, I don’t want to make her worry about having to stop somewhere because of me. Slowly, I inch the hand with the missing finger behind Dani’s leg.
Penny pales before nodding slowly. “Okay, but be as gentle as you can. We’ll lie her down in the back seat.”
I follow Penny to her car—a navy BMW parked in the middle of the road, the driver’s door still hanging open, giving testimony to how fast she’d rushed to Dani’s side. Penny seems to love her stepdaughter. Now if only I can convince her that the best way to show it is for her to contact her friends in the FBI and start making that witness protection program lie a reality.
But is the FBI really safe? Won’t they find out the truth about the Dream Project kids sooner or later? Maybe they already know. Maybe Dr. Connor wasn’t lying about working on classified projects for the feds.
I shut the inner voice down as I carry Dani into the back seat and get her settled—long legs curled on one side and the rest of her spilling into my lap. I’ll worry about whether or not the FBI is safe later. First we have to get out of here and get Dani to a hospital. Once I’m positive she’s going to be okay, maybe I’ll be able to start thinking straight again.