“Retreat,” I said, my voice barely audible.
“Who’s gonna get Cat?”
“No one. We’re gonna leave him behind.”
Cat.
The sandy-haired boy we’d rescued one day at the edge of the No Water. The one who showed us the Hunters and told us what LT really stood for: Less Than. From the moment we found him, our destiny was changed. On more than one occasion he had saved our lives.
And now here he was, pale and delirious, blood seeping from his arm.
“What’re you talking about?” Flush yelled, near tears. “We can’t leave him.”
I understood his desperation. This was Cat. The thought of losing him was beyond comprehension. Still, if we stayed, we’d all be killed. And if we tried to take him with us, he’d die for sure. This was the only choice.
“Go!” I yelled.
Most of the Sisters obeyed immediately. They fired their crossbows even as they took giant strides backward. The Less Thans weren’t as easily convinced.
“It ain’t right,” Dozer said. He sent an arrow into the black, then turned and ran.
Hope was the last of the girls to leave. I saw her stare at Cat for what seemed like forever. What was in that look I couldn’t tell. Then she gave me a glance, as if questioning my decision.
“I’ll catch up,” I said.
Her enormous brown eyes danced back and forth between Cat and me … and then she went.
Flush and Red just stood there, not moving. Unable to move.
“What’re you waiting for?” I screamed at them. “You’ll die if you stay here.”
“We can’t leave Cat,” Flush said. His eyes were red.
“I don’t want to either, but we don’t have a choice. Now get out of here!”
Reluctantly, they grabbed hold of Twitch and ran, guiding him through the woods.
I reached down and squeezed Cat’s hand. Was it my imagination or was he trying to squeeze back? His eyes were closed, his face an unnatural shade of gray. It seemed not even remotely possible to see him this way. This was Cat—who survived a walk through the No Water, the most barren, inhospitable landscape imaginable, and lived to talk about it. Who led us up Skeleton Ridge and across the Flats and through the Brown Forest and took out the propane tank with a single bullet.
“This is just for now,” I said, choking back tears. “You haven’t seen the last of us.”
I waited as long as I dared, hoping—praying—he might respond. He didn’t.
I gave his hand a final squeeze, jumped to my feet, and dashed off into the woods, bullets chasing me like angry hornets. As I ran, tears spewed from my eyes and raced down my cheeks.
What have I done? I asked myself. What on earth have I done?
HOPE LEADS THE WAY, cutting through the deepest part of the forest. Far behind her she can see the soldiers’ headlamps bouncing through the woods, splashing tree trunks with miniature white spotlights.
They run through the night. As the sky brightens from black to gray, Hope thinks of Book, trying to reconcile these very different pictures she has of him. The one who kissed her so passionately. The one who stalks her at night. The one who’s leaving Cat behind. They’re like pieces of a puzzle that don’t quite fit.
And what’s the real reason he abandoned his friend? Could it have anything to do with jealousy?
They speed down a hill and come to a skidding stop. Below them is a raging river—all these days of rain have swollen it past its banks. Dead trees are swept downstream in a muddy froth of spewing rapids. There is no way to get across.
At that same moment, the soldiers crest the hill behind them, half a mile back. They kneel and fire. Bullets whisper overhead. Some pockmark the earth like hailstones. The Sisters and Less Thans crouch on the riverbank.
“Well?” Dozer demands. “What now?”
Hope looks into the river. It’s pure white water, pounding the rocks and cutting away at the banks. She pities anyone who falls into it.
As they’re about to do.
“As soon as you hit the water, pull your knees up to your chin,” she instructs. “Don’t try to swim—just float. Face forward and use your feet as springs.”
Eyebrows arch in surprise.
“Wait a minute,” Flush says. “We’re not going to jump in there, are we?”
She doesn’t bother to reply. Sometimes it’s better just to demonstrate a thing than explain it.
She leaps to the very middle of the stream and the current sucks her under, tumbling her head over heels until she is completely upside down, disoriented. Her arms take her to the bottom of the river, where her fingers scrape a thick layer of silt and mud. The murky current throws her against a boulder, and what little air she has in her lungs is pushed out. Stars blink.
It’s the flooded tunnel all over again.
Sunlight sparkles on the water and Hope reaches for it, following a trail of silver bubbles and straining for the sky itself. She breaks the surface and gasps for air. She’s gotten only a small breath before the river pulls her back under, dumping huge mouthfuls of water down her throat. She rises back up, hacking and sputtering and retching until her lungs are on fire.
But she’s on the surface.
She brings her knees to her chest, and her feet bounce off one boulder after another like a marble in a maze. The Sisters and Less Thans are still on the riverbank, paralyzed with fear. A bullet catches a Sister in the back, and she crumples to the earth.
Book and Argos jump into the raging river, then all the others. In no time, thirteen bobbing heads poke above the surface.
The water is icy cold, and Hope’s feet and fingers grow numb. She flails her arms to get some circulation going. When the river widens and slows, she paddles, both to warm herself and to put even more distance between her and the Brown Shirts. Then the river narrows, sluicing through tight gorges in a rush of whitewater. It’s just Hope and the water and the towering canyons.
She bobs along like a cork for hours, the river taking her farther and farther south. Finally, it widens for good. Green grasslands lie on either side, and a sandbar juts in front of her. Her feet find the pebbly riverbed and she stands up. Her legs are stiff from cold, and it’s all she can do to lurch toward shore.
The first to join her is Book. They barely look each other in the eye.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
She nods. “Just cold. You?”
“Same.”
An awkward silence follows. “Look, about what happened,” he starts to say, but soon the others appear.
They drag themselves out of the river on frozen limbs, trembling from cold, their lips icy blue. Argos gives his fur a shake. The Sisters’ dresses cling to their bodies like a second layer of skin.
“Why’d you do it?” Dozer demands, emerging from the water like some Creature from the Black Lagoon. “Why’d you kill our friend?”
“He was my friend, too,” Book replies.
“So why’d you kill him?”