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He turns onto the main business road in our section of town, fast food restaurants and strip malls lining both sides. A baseball cap lies on the seat between us and he pulls it onto his head as he glances at the speedometer. The needle hovers at the thirty-five mph speed limit. He turns into a Chick-fil-A and drives to the back of the lot, backing up to park next to the dumpster.

“
I’m sorry I can’t drop you off at the door. I need to stay out of sight.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. His hand shakes as his fingers fumble with the bills. He shoves the wallet at me. “I don’t know how much is in there. Just take it. Get something for you if you want.”

I slip it into my coat pocket.

“
You’re going to come back, right?” Evan’s eyes are huge with fear and it scares me.

My fingertips slide down his cheek as I stare into his eyes. The brilliant blue is lost in the shadows of the parking lot. “Yeah, I’m coming back. I promise.”

His hand lifts to cover mine, his fingers curling under my palm. He looks like he’s about to burst into tears. “Okay, hurry.”

The restaurant is warm and the smell of chicken and fried potatoes makes my stomach growl, reminding me I didn’t eat much for dinner. I stand in line and pull Evan’s wallet out of my pocket. Two twenty dollar bills and a five, more than enough to get something for both us, even though I feel guilty spending his money on myself.

The line moves and I start to close the wallet when I notice something folded and tucked in the credit card section. It looks like currency but not United States money. Curiosity gets the better of me and I pull it out, unfolding the thin crinkly paper, which is stiffer and thinner than a United States bill. A twenty-five appears in the corner and President Kennedy’s face is plastered in the center.

What the heck is this?

I turn it over. The Statue of Liberty is printed on the back and more twenty-fives in the corners of the bill. United Regions of America emblazons the bottom.

Where did Evan get this? Maybe he’s wanted for counterfeiting, although Evan’s a sharp guy. I can’t see him printing money so obviously fake.

The line moves again and I find myself at the counter and unprepared to order. I order a meal for Evan and a sandwich for myself, almost paying with the fake bill in my hand. I stuff it back in the credit card spot and hand the cashier a twenty. Shoving the change into Evan’s wallet, I move to the side and wait for the food.

The doors open and a gust of wind blows a chill through the restaurant. Sarah and Lindsey walk in with several other girls. I freeze in utter panic before realizing I’m bundled in my coat, hat and scarf. Tugging the cap over my forehead, I lift the scarf to cover more of my face.

“
I can’t believe what happened to Evan,” Lindsey says in a gossipy tone.

I lower my head and focus my attention on them.

“
I know,” Sarah says. “It explains so much though, especially why he would pay attention to
her
instead of me. The real Evan would never have anything to do with her.”

“I still can’t believe there’s someone walking around who looks exactly like him. It’s so creepy. Who is he?”

My head is fuzzy and I grip the counter to hold myself up. I keep my gaze down, hoping my eavesdropping isn’t obvious.

“
Nobody knows,” Sarah says. “But the police’ll tell us when they find him.”

The cashier hands me the bag of food and in my stupor. I drop it on the counter. Sarah and Lindsey turn to me, but I manage to snatch the bag and run out the side door.

Evan’s car is still in the spot next to the dumpster, the front end facing me. I take slow steps toward him as I digest the overload of information.

Two Evans. How could that be?

The Evan I know,
my
Evan, sits in the front seat of the car, his face visible in the light of the overhead streetlamp. In the chaos swirling in my head, it makes perfect sense. Sarah said he disappeared and was different when he came back. The Evan sitting in the car, whose thumb now anxiously taps the steering wheel, is different than the one from two weeks ago. Even I can see it.

I stop in the front of the car.

The police are looking for Evan and that can’t be good. What’s happened to the other? I worry that this Evan is dangerous. My head swims with the impossibility of it all. This doesn’t happen in real life. Soap operas and Lifetime movies, but not real life. He watches me with wary eyes and I know I have to make a decision. Get in the car with him or run. Every reasonable thought within me screams
run
, but one says
stay
. It’s the one I listen to.

I open the door and get in, handing him the food and his drink. “We have to go.”

His eyes widen. “Why? What happened?”

I release a shaky breath. “Sarah and her idiots are inside and they know the police are looking for you. They may have spotted me so we need to go. Now.”

Setting the bag between us, he shifts the car into drive and turns out onto the side street, heading into a neighborhood. He takes off his hat and tosses it to the side, running his shaking hand through his hair.

“
What are you going to do?”

“
I don’t know.” He grips the steering wheel, leaning toward it. “I don’t know. I’m not ready to go yet.”

“
Go where?”

He turns and looks at me with a grim smile. “Home.”

I wait for him to tell me where home is, but he remains silent, driving through the neighborhood as he grabs his sandwich out of the bag.

He takes a bite and laughs. “I’m going to miss these when I get home.” Then he reaches for several waffle fries and takes a big bite.

“
You don’t have Chick-fil-A where you live?” I’ve heard that some of the northern states don’t.

He laughs again. “No, we don’t have any fast food.” He pulls onto the road that goes past the school.

“How can you not have fast food? Everyone has fast food. Even
China
has fast food. Where the heck do you live?”

“
You’d never believe me if I told you.”

This is a practical joke and it’s not funny. My frustration builds. “I don’t believe you. Everybody has fast food. This is stupid and you better tell me what’s going on right now. Sarah said there were two of you. What was she talking about? Who are you?”

“
Evan.” He pauses as he stares into my eyes then faces out the windshield. “He’s Evan too.”

The blood rushes from my head. “I don’t understand. How can there be two of you? Are you like his long-lost twin brother or something?”

“
No.” The school blurs past us on the left as Evan keeps driving.

“
Where are we going?” My panic makes my voice squeak.

He keeps his eyes straight ahead. “We’re almost there.”

I raise my knuckles to my lips as I glance out the side window. My stomach rolls. I know where he’s headed.

He parks in the church parking lot. The tires crunch on the gravel as he pulls to the side of the building, hiding the car from the road. Stuffing the last of the sandwich into his mouth, he wipes his hands on his jeans and turns off the engine. “I know it’s cold outside, but can we walk? I’m pretty antsy and I need to move or I’ll go crazy.”

I nod. “Okay, but only if you give me some answers.”

Evan turns on a flashlight and takes my hand as we walk toward the cemetery.

“
Wait.” I stop, tugging him back. “Are we going to Monica’s grave?”

“
I have to show you something.” He swings the beam to the gate that surrounds the graves. The gate creaks as he pushes it open.

I should ask him who he is and where he’s from, but as I cling to his hand I’m suddenly terrified to find out. For the moment, he’s the boy who’s adored me for the last week, who gave me hope even if it was fleeting. And now I’m about to lose him.

I look over at him while we walk around the graves. “Some people think it’s creepy walking through a graveyard in the dark, horror movies and all. I think the horror is when they die.”

His hand tightens around mine. “Losing someone you love is harder. One minute they’re there, the next they’re gone. There were times I wished they
would
rise up from the dead.” The pain in his voice is palpable. “I would have given anything for that to happen.”

We stand in front of Monica’s grave as I wonder who he’s talking about. The owner of the pendant hanging from his neck? Evan shines the beam of light on Monica’s headstone. I drop to my knees and brush leaves away.

“
Sometimes I can’t believe she’s gone. Sometimes I wish I’d died instead.”

He kneels beside me and sweeps a stray hair off my face, tucking it into my hat. “No, Julia. Don’t say that.”

“
I’ve screwed up so many people, so many lives. If I’d died, they could have gone on and not got stuck in this mess I’ve created.”

He exhales, his breath filling the air with white steam. “This is so confusing.” Tears stream down his face.

“
You lost someone you loved?” I stare up at him.

His hand lifts to my cheek. “Yes.”

“
Who was she?” I whisper.

He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me close. “You know what’s even harder?”

Dèjá vu rushes through me, but for once I can tie it to a real memory. It was Evan who found me in the cemetery last week. My throat burns from holding back my tears. “What?”

“
Losing someone you love twice.” His voice cracks as he cradles my head to his chest. “I don’t know how to survive losing you again.”

I push back to look into his face. “What are you talking about? Today? I was hurt and I wanted punish you. I’m sorry. I just needed time. I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” My voice chokes on my tears.

“
Do you mean that?”

Nodding, I bite my lip to hold back the sobs.

He kisses me, a wet and desperate mess. I cling to him, the damp ground seeping through my jeans. He pulls away and I realize it’s begun to rain.

“
I love you so much, Julia. My life is nothing without you. I can’t leave you, but I can’t stay. I don’t know what to do.” Evan’s shoulders shake with his tears, his hands holding my arms in a viselike grip.

“
Where are you going?”

Flashing red lights from the road catch my attention. Evan spins his head toward them and switches off the flashlight.

I start to scramble to my feet, but Evan pulls me back down. “What if I told you Monica wasn’t dead?”

“
What?
”

His eyes are wild with fear and desperation. “What if I told you that you could see her? That I can take you to her.”

I try to pull out of his grasp. “You’re crazy! How can you say that? Of course, she’s dead!” I scream and whip my hand toward her headstone. “She’s there in the ground!”

He shakes his head frantically. “No, she’s not. I know where she is. I can take you to see her. I promise. Will you come with me?”

“
Evan,” I sob. “This is crazy. She’s dead!”

Three police cars pull into the parking lot.

“
No, Julia. I swear to God she’s alive. Just come with me.
Please
.”

I turn to the flashing lights. I can’t let them find Evan. I stand and tug on his arm. “You have to go!”

He grabs my hand as he rises. “Will you come?”

He’s ripping my heart from my chest. I can’t bear to lose him. What do I have to gain by staying? My father can’t stand me. My mother’s weary of my chaos. My sister hates me. I killed my best friend, who Evan said is actually alive. I have no one. No one but Evan.

His tear-soaked face waits for my answer. Tears over losing me. All I want is for someone to love me. Need me. I have it here, with him.

In the end, there is no question. I lift my chin. “Yes.”

Chapter Fifteen

Evan grabs my hand and we run. The mist has turned to rain and it seeps through my hat and into my hair.

Car doors slam behind us as Evan boosts me over the short fence in the back of the cemetery. He vaults over with little effort and grabs my hand again. We sprint toward the woods, crashing through the brush. I look over my shoulder, expecting the police to be directly behind us, but their flashlight beams are sweeping around the church. At least we have a head start.

Evan leads the way, pushing deeper into the woods. Several minutes in, I’m out of breath. My leg aches from the cold and the rain, and the continual pounding from running makes it worse.

He glances over his shoulder, past me. The anxious look on his face makes me turn around. Flashlight beams dance in the distance. They’re searching the woods.

“
Do you have a plan?” I gasp as he runs faster. I struggle to keep up and not slip on the wet leaves coating the forest floor.

“
Yes, we’re getting close.”

I have no idea what we’re getting close to, but I hope we make it.

He angles toward the road. We’re deep enough in the forest that it’s several minutes before I see asphalt through the trees. I expect to see a car parked on the street, something to help us escape, but there’s only the road and the trees. Then it hits me where we’ll emerge.

I dig in my heels. “No.”

He tugs on my arm. “Jules, come on, we’re almost there. We’re going to make it.”

I shake my head, panicked. “No! I can’t.”

He stops and cups my face with both hands, his breath coming in pants. “Julia, it’s the only way. If we don’t go out there, they’re going to catch us. I’ll go to jail and you might get arrested, too.”

I know he’s right. I’m in too deep to back out, but the thought of going to the scene of Monica’s death makes my heart race. “Why here? Can’t we go somewhere else?”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. It’s go out there while we still can, or stay here and we’ll both get caught. I’ll let you decide.”

My chest tightens. “If I don’t go, you’ll stay here and let them find us?”

He thrusts out his jaw, determination in his eyes. “Yes.”

When I look back, the flashlights are closer. I inhale a deep breath, hoping it will appease my growing anxiety. Instead, it rages in protest that I even consider going out to the road. I study Evan’s face and wonder why he would give up everything for me. His shoulders are tense, his lips pressed into a thin line. Everything in him screams
run
, yet he’s still standing here.

I bite my lip. “Okay. I trust you.”

Relief washes over his face before he kisses me. “I love you,” he murmurs against my lips then snatches my hand, now slick from the rain.

My mind trips, bewildered by Evan’s declaration, but I have no time to dwell on it as we race toward the street.

Torn between checking the flashlights and looking toward the approaching road, I settle for staring at the ground. Evan stops at the edge of the woods and I clutch his arm in a death grip, terrified to look across the street. My traitorous eyes glance up, finding the tree with a deep gouge, a raw, open wound. I fight my rising nausea. I can do this. I have to do this.

I turn my gaze from the tree and look up and down the road. There’s no traffic in sight but neither is there any means of escape.

“
Evan, how are we getting out of here?”

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a black rectangular box, slightly larger than a remote to a TV. He squeezes my hand. “This is your last chance to change your mind. Are you sure you want to come with me?”

The police are tromping through the leaves scattered on the forest floor. “Yes.” My heart slams against my chest with every beat.

“
Okay, let’s go.” We slide down the muddy incline to the shoulder. He leads me to the middle of the road, about twenty feet from the tree and stops, standing on the center yellow line.

“
Evan?
” I check to see if any cars are coming. Maybe he plans for us to get run over in the street. Maybe escape for him is suicide and he plans to take me with him. I stare up into his anxious face for reassurance.

The policemen have reached the edge of the forest. “Freeze! Stay where you are!” an officer shouts. Flashlight beams hover around us.

Evan wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close to his chest. The box presses into my back through my coat. “Hang on to me. This might feel strange.”

“
What might feel strange?”

A police car, its lights flashing, speeds down the road toward us.

This is it. We’re going to die
.

The road beneath us jiggles, rumbling under our feet.

“
Evan?”

His smile is tight. “We’re almost there.”

“
Almost where?
” I clench fistfuls of his coat.

The air undulates in waves. The police car slams on its brakes, skidding off the road. Its screeching tires make my knees weak, but Evan’s grip holds me up. The policemen shout as the waves became larger and wilder, until I can’t see the beginning or the end of them. The air is a rippling sea, blocking out everything but Evan and me. A roar fills my ears followed by a bright burst of light. Intense pressure smashes in on me on all sides. My instinct is to cry out, but my body feels frozen, nonexistent. The stress is so unbearable I must be dead or close to it. Then I’m thrown, like a ball from a pitching machine. My body bangs into the ground with the impact, shooting shocks waves of pain through my already aching head. Asphalt burns my hands and cheek as I skid.

I try to push up, but my arms and the rest of my body are unresponsive. Evan isn’t next to me. Lacking the strength to lift my head, I shift my eyes and find him lying on the ground, several feet away.

I want to call out to him but my tongue is leaden. My chest burns, refusing to expand. I will it to move, for my airway to open, as my vision begins to fade. With one last effort, my rib cage heaves and cool air rushes into my lungs, setting off a fit of coughing.

Did the police car hit us after all?

Encouraged at my newfound ability to breathe, I try to lift my head again, looking for the police. Instead, I see giant mobile streetlights circling the road, all shining on Evan and me. Why would they take the time to set up lights yet leave us in the street?

The dull roar in my head begins to shift and separate sounds. The mangled cacophony gives way to motors, shouting voices and sirens.

“
Evan!” I yell, only it comes out a raspy whisper.

The hand next to his head twitches.

I want to crawl to him, but my legs resist cooperation. My weak arms manage to drag me with agonizingly slow progress. “Evan,” I croak. “We have to get up.” I have no idea how we’ll get away, but I’m not ready to give up yet.

He faces away from me and my hand reaches for his back but falls short, slapping the pavement. Pain shoots through my asphalt-burnt hand.

Sirens scream through the air. The rain has stopped and the pavement is completely dry, even though my clothes are drenched.

“
Evan,” I moan.

He turns his head to me. “I’m sorry.” He mouths, his eyes glassy.

A sea of monsters move in and hover over us. I blink, ordering my hallucination away. I’ve finally gone mental. When I open my eyes, a horde of bulky hazmat-like suits with spacesuit heads surrounds us. Visors obscure their faces.

Their arms reach toward us. I want to scream, to grab out for Evan, but I’m too weak. Every muscle in my body is sluggish and slow.

Gloved hands claw at my arms and jerk me off the ground. Several other bodies surround Evan, hauling him up. They drag us toward a fleet of vehicles, none of them recognizable. My feet trail behind me on the pavement.

“
Stop!” I finally manage to get out. “Who are you?”

They ignore me as we move toward more suited bodies, more than I can count. The bodies part as we approach several vehicles, a cross between a delivery truck and a van. The doors to one open and I realize they’re going to put me inside.

Animal instinct takes over. Adrenaline surges and overcomes my weakness. I thrust my arms out, trying to shake off their hands. My action catches them off guard and they lose their hold, letting me out of their grasp.

I manage to land on my feet and catch my balance. I spin and run toward Evan. The other group is dragging him to another truck. His head flops forward, his chin touching his chest.

“
Evan!” I scream, the sound piercing through the relentless sirens.

His head raises slightly then drops, as though he tries but the effort’s too great. He and the suited men disappear behind a truck.

Arms grapple me from behind, but I fight this time, swinging and kicking as they come near. They hesitate and spread out to circle around me.

My heart beats frantically, my breath so rapid I’m sure to hyperventilate. I twist around, gauging how many there are, how to escape.

An endless wave of monsters circle. I’m overcome with hopelessness but shove it off and charge for an opening in the bodies, almost breaking free. They enclose the circle, engulfing me in a mass of suits and arms, their faceless visors reflecting my terrified face.

I scream, a long blood-curdling howl of protest and fear. They grip my arms and legs, carrying me toward the truck. I kick and scream, my legs breaking loose a couple of times before the men lift them again.

Almost to the truck, I give one more valiant attempt to break free. They’re prepared, their treatment rougher as the gaping hole to the truck threatens to swallow me whole.

“
Please,” I sob, thrashing. “I didn’t do anything.”

They toss me inside and I land hard on the dimpled metal floor, the points jabbing my skin at every contact point.

The doors slam shut, pitching the chamber into total darkness. I lunge for the doors and beat them with my fists.

“
Please!
Please, let me out! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

The truck moves. I sway, losing balance, and fall on my side, hitting my head on the wall. I collapse, sobbing as terror fills my mind, a dense, choking cloud.

What do they want with me? A half-dozen unspeakable horrors race through my head. My throat closes, on the cusp of a panic attack.

No, no, no, no.

Why are they wearing suits? Why wouldn’t they speak to me?

My body shakes uncontrollably with fear and cold. My gasping sobs make it worse. The panic attack hits full force and I struggle to retain consciousness.

The truck lurches and bounces for an eternity, or perhaps mere minutes. Finally, the attack begins to subside. I sit up in the cold pitch-black metal box. I grasp my knees and pull them to my chest, rocking back and forth as my mind scrambles for a plan to escape.

There is no escape.

My mind turns to Evan. If they’re treating me like this, they must be treating him worse. He’s the one they want. I’m merely an accessory.

The truck rumbles to a stop. I hear voices outside, muffled by the metal walls. Without warning, the doors fling open, light blinding my eyes. Two suited bodies stand in the opening, arms outstretched like in a horror movie. I shrink into the corner, but gloved hands capture my ankles and pull. I fall back, my head hitting the floor as I struggle to kick. More bodies appear, providing more hands to pull me from the truck. I dangle in the air over a concrete loading dock when another truck parks beside us, more bodies approaching the back of it.

Evan
.

I crane my neck to see the back of the truck open. Hooded suits pull out a lifeless body. I scream Evan’s name, but it comes out hoarse and garbled.

Four bodies sweep me into a darkened building, a tall office structure made of concrete and glass. Losing sight of Evan sends waves of panic crashing through every cell of my body. A burst of energy shoots through my muscles and I send a kick into the stomach of the person holding my right calf. He drops my leg and doubles over. Sirens wail in the stark white hall and two more bodies join the parade. They grip my limbs in tight holds that pinch into my damp clothes.

I raise my head. “Please! I didn’t do anything!”

They ignore my protests and move forward, only stopping when they reach the end of the hall. A stainless steel door opens and we enter a large cylindrical room. The door slides closed and the floor drops so rapidly my stomach drops with it.

The doors open and they carry me down another hall. I’m deep in the bowels of this concrete structure. A new wave of fear sweeps through me and I flail, my body fighting for survival. They’re prepared. Their grips constrict.

I scream and sob, both undistinguishable.

They stop and I think they’re finally going to listen, but a door slides open. We enter a small white room and the men drop my legs. The soles of my feet thud on the floor, shooting pain through my aching left thigh. The four leave and the door slides closed behind them.

The two men lift me into a standing position. I whip my head around, looking for an escape. The white room is small, about eight foot feet square, a control box filled with buttons centered on one wall. A silver metal panel fills the wall opposite the door we came in.

The two new suited bodies with visors appear, wearing all black. One reaches for the scarf still hanging around my neck. He slides it off and hands it to the other person, who tosses into a large plastic bag. He taps on an electronic tablet in his hands.

“
What are you doing?” I pant from my terror.

The first black suit ignores me and reaches for the buttons on my coat. His black gloves are slender and less bulky. He unfastens my buttons and the hold on my arms loosens as he pulls my sleeves down and off my hands. I try to take advantage of the freedom and bolt, but they pull me back before I make it to the door. My arms are pinned as my coat is handed off like the scarf.

They systematically remove my fleece jacket and shoes and socks as I cry hysterically and plead for them to stop.