“You mean the ones you pulled a knife on?”
“His parents, then,” I said. “Or his teachers—someone who’s known him for a while. Somewhere in his past, probably in the last three or four years, there’ll be a moment when his behavior changed—when the real Corey died and a shape-shifting Withered took over. Honestly, it’s probably easier for the Withered to take over teen lives than adult ones; the real person’s likes and habits haven’t really been established yet, so any inconsistencies can be passed off as puberty.”
“That’ll help us find out if it’s really Corey,” said Brooke. “How do we find out how to kill him?”
“A speed-bump test,” I said, “if we can arrange without getting caught. Beyond that we just have to … get to know him really well.”
“I didn’t meet him,” said Brooke, “but I have really uncomfortable feelings about him.”
“He was pretty … uncomfortable,” I said. “He stayed in the background, analyzing us while his friends cracked jokes. Honestly, he kind of reminded me of me.”
“That’s giving him too much credit,” said Brooke.
“Talking to the other people first might give us an idea of how to talk to him,” I said. “But how to get into his inner circle after starting off on such a bad foot?”
“This is going to be another long one, isn’t it?” asked Brooke. “We’ll need somewhere to stay.”
“We’re almost broke.”
“We should go back to Sara Glassman’s house.”
I raised my eyebrow. “You think she’d feed us again?”
“I think she’d let us stay,” said Brooke.
“You’re kidding.”
“Why not?” she said. “She has that whole house with nobody else in it, and she loved us.”
“You, maybe.”
“You too,” said Brooke. “You’re more charming than you think you are.”
“I’m not charming.”
“Charming’s the wrong word,” she said, nodding. She shot me a quick sideways look. “It’s more of a … brooding loner thing.”
I started to protest and then laughed out loud. “You want her to offer us rooms or hit on me?”
She shrugged. “I’m just saying. She likes us and she’s a good person. She’ll want to help us. And we know she has a guest room because she had family staying with her right before we showed up.”
“I guess,” I said, and I imagined Brooke in the shower again, naked and glistening. I closed my eyes and tried to push the thought away. Getting physical with Brooke would be like a … a betrayal, of her and Marci both. “You think she’ll have two guest rooms?”
“You’re forgetting our cover story,” she said. “Everyone thinks we’re a couple.”
“Great,” I said. I thought about her body next to mine, and started counting again. Two, three, five, eight, thirteen, twenty-one, fifty-five …
I counted all night.
In the morning we got as clean as we could, trying to look as normal and approachable as possible. I stood watch while Brooke changed her pad again; she said the flow was almost gone now and soon she’d be done altogether. I gave Boy Dog the rest of the food I’d been storing up for him, and we walked to the freeway to look for a ride. It took almost an hour before a small car pulled over; a young woman smiled behind the wheel. She looked barely a few years older than we were. She leaned over and opened the passenger door.
“How far are you going?”
“As far as you’ll take us,” I said, holding the door for Brooke.
“That’s pretty far,” said the girl. Brooke closed her door, and I got in the back with Boy Dog. “Cute dog! What’s his name?”
“Boy Dog,” said Brooke.
“What?” asked the girl.
“That’s his name,” said Brooke. “Don’t ask me, I didn’t name him.”
“He was a hand-me-down,” I said. “We’re going to eastern Oklahoma, but you can drop us off anywhere, thank you.”
“I can do eastern Oklahoma,” said the girl as she pulled back onto the road. “I’m Kate, by the way. Do you mind if I play the radio a bit?”
“Whatever you want,” I said, buckling my seat belt. “Thanks again for the ride.”
“Kate short for Katherine?” asked Brooke.
“Katelynn,” said Kate, “with two N’s. I hate it, though, so please just call me Kate.”
“I’m Brooke,” said Brooke. “Also with two N’s.” She frowned, looking concerned. “I mean—”
“Short for Brooklynn?” asked Kate.
“No,” said Brooke, and she looked confused. Was she switching over to a new personality, or had one simply popped up, spelled its name, and then disappeared again?
“Just a joke,” I said, hoping to soothe Brooke’s worries. “Speaking of two N’s, I’m Johnn.” I dragged out the n. “Nice to meet you.”
Kate laughed. “How far into eastern Oklahoma? I’m headed all the way to California—new semester, you know how it is. Or do you? You go to college at all?”