“We need a new car,” I say. “So we need to get out of the woods and buy one.”
Trevor clears this throat. “We should be pretty close to Brookman Bay. It’s a pretty quiet town but it has a great pool. Dad used to take me there for meets sometimes. I’m pretty sure it has a lot of used-car dealerships—it’s that type of town, one that reeks of desperation.”
“They’ll be able to trace my card if I use it,” says Juliet. “I’ve got two thousand in cash, but dealerships probably aren’t going to accept that much seeing as it’s so freaking sketchy and it puts them at risk. So we might have to use the card and then run as fast as possible.”
“But where are we running to?” asks Dyl.
Juliet turns and faces me, her eyes wide and questioning. I nod slowly.
“We aren’t running anymore,” she says. “We’re going to fight them.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Juliet and Trevor were chosen to buy the car. I advised them to buy the second-cheapest one, because that wouldn’t look desperate, just budget conscious. Everyone volunteered to go, but that pairing was selected because a white heterosexual couple is the least remarkable and therefore least memorable pairing, should someone decide to interrogate the salesperson. Trevor was chosen over Dyl and me as we figured they would be looking for people with our descriptions, not his. Also, of all of us he looks the oldest, which might be an advantage. Juliet told us that, legally, one of us would need to be eighteen in order to register a car. So all we can do is hope that either the salesperson skips that step, or we find someone who is a little bit sketchy. It’s not ideal, but we don’t have a choice.
While we wait, Natalie insists we remove our implants.
So I’m standing in the woods, in my underwear so as not to get blood on the only clothes I have, with Dyl’s rolled-up belt in my mouth. Natalie advances, holding the knife. My teeth clamp down on the leather. It tastes dry and earthy.
“This isn’t going to work,” she says, with a flourish of the knife. “You’re too tall. You’re going to have to lie down.”
Dyl is pacing back and forth. He’s worn a little trail into the mulch. “How do you know this is going to work? How do you know this isn’t going to scramble him?”
I take the belt out of my mouth. Why does he care so much? He wanted me to die before, and now he’s worried about my safety? It doesn’t make sense. Yes, I tried to kill him as well, but at least I was backing away toward the end. He never hesitated in his plan to take me down, so he doesn’t care about me. But that doesn’t explain why he looks so worried right now, or why he took my hand when I offered it to him when we faced the Stalker. “I’ll be fine, Dyl.”
Natalie lifts her hair up, revealing her scalp. A large, dotted scar is visible above her ear. It curves, following the shape of her skull. “After Trevor chose me, I was brought back to the LIC one last time and they removed it. Apparently they reuse them, which is too gross to think about. The point is I know this will work. His scar won’t be as pretty as mine, but he won’t die, Dyl, I promise. Caden, please lie down.”
I pop the belt back in and lie down on the rocky outcrop. I lie on the very edge, so my right arm hangs limply in the air. I tilt my head to the side and Natalie rests the point of the knife against my skin. I close my eyes.
“Ready?”
I nod.
The side of my head explodes. The knife digs in over and over and over, parting my skin and scooping out the gelatinous red flesh beneath. Every part of me is cold save for the side of my head, which is a burning inferno. The belt feels like it’s climbing down my throat, choking me, so I try to spit it out but it’s caught and I can’t and I start choking. Two weights clamp down on my arms, the sensation stronger than the pain. I open my eyes, and through the tears I see a blurry face. The face moves away, then returns. My vision clears, and a pair of green eyes meet mine.
Dyl.
He pats my shoulder. “It’s done, man.”
I blink and sit up. Sharp pain burrows into my brain. “Is it out?”
He nods and starts unbuttoning his shirt. His shaking fingers fumble and he finally just rips the shirt off. I gaze at his chest for a second, then look down at my hands.
“It’s done,” he says. “Now move; I need to get mine out.”
I roll to my trembling feet, then fall forward. My chest slams into a tree and I cling to it as the entire world vibrates. The forest jumps up and down and left and right. I grip the rough, cold wood and breathe in. The shaking at the edges of my vision gradually returns to normal. I breathe in deep, then push away from the tree. Dyl screams, and the sound hurts me more than the knife did.
I stumble toward him. When I reach him I place my hands on his bare shoulders and hold him down, just how he held me. Natalie’s mouth is a firm line, and she’s holding the knife steady. She flicks the tip of the knife, and a small silver ball falls out of the cut. It lands on the stone with a clink.
I grab Dyl’s hand and pull him up to a sitting position. He sways, but remains upright.
“We’re back!” calls Juliet. She and Trevor are making their way through the forest toward us. They’re both smiling. “And we were excellent! Well, Trev was. He got us a great deal on the car, plus he had the genius idea to get you two some more comfortable clothes and some tents to sleep in. We …” She reaches us and falls silent.
Trevor raises his hands, revealing three large black canvas bags that are full to the brim. “It’s just a bit of blood, Jules, they’ll be fine. Don’t let them take our story from us, because it’s a cracker. So the girl at the store, she was—”
Natalie interrupts with a grim smile. “Babe, I love your stories, but now is definitely not the time.”
He sighs. “Fine. The car was four grand, so we had to use the credit card. We figured we may as well spend as much as we can, seeing as they’ll know we’re here anyway. So Jules and I went on a spree and bought you guys a bunch of crap.”
Juliet hands me a plastic bag. “These are yours, Caden. I hope they fit.”
I open it and peer inside. It’s a plaid duffel coat, a gray shirt, a pair of dark jeans, and black dress boots, the kind that hipsters love. She’s staring at me expectantly, her eyes wide.
“Thanks, Juliet,” I say. “These look great. Truly.”
She presses her lips together, then turns and walks back to the others.