“Juliet,” I say. “Do you know that you’re incredible?”
She turns to me. The wind coming in from her open window is blowing her hair. “What?”
“I said you’re amazing. I want you to know I think that about you.”
“Thank you, Caden.”
“I think you’re amazing too, Jules,” says Trevor. “I hope you know I think that.”
“I do. Thanks, Trev.”
Silence falls over the car, becoming so thick it would take something really worth saying to break it. Juliet is staring forward, her eyes slightly narrowed, her shoulders hunched, her hands gripping the wheel at nine and three o’clock.
She looks like Dyl. They’re more alike than they realize, both super intense and confident. I’d bet most of the people at school don’t know Juliet is a science prodigy, even though she is literally the best at it in the entire school. It doesn’t matter to her that no one knows she’s so talented. She’s also incredibly brave and already saved my life once by destroying the Stalker. If I didn’t know before, now I totally know why the LIC wanted to monitor her.
I nestle into my seat and stare out the window. The forest blurs past.
After about an hour and a half, the trees start thinning, leaving gaps of foggy gray air between the smooth white trunks. Up ahead is a long stretch of flat earth. Fog fills the air, and the grass glimmers with frost.
Juliet pulls onto the side of the road and parks.
“This is where we leave you,” she says. “We can’t risk driving out in the open. Well, until you get the door open, that is.”
I step outside. I push my arms out in front of me, and feel the satisfying cracking of my vertebrae as they click back into place.
Juliet walks around the front of the car and stops in front of me. “Give me your hand, Caden. The one with the glove.”
I raise my gloved hand. She picks it up and starts fiddling with the wires. Then she presses the button above my wrist. Blue light streams from the base mechanism. With a buzzing sound, the wires start to glow neon blue.
“There,” she says with a proud grin. “It’s working perfectly.”
She passes me a pair of gray wool gloves.
I put the left one on my free hand, then hesitate. “Won’t the contact activate it?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, you need to press pretty hard in order to make it work. Like, really push into what you want to electrocute. It’ll be fine.”
Slowly, I pull the wool glove over the wires, then flex my fingers.
Juliet pats my shoulder. “Are you nervous?”
Of course.
“Yeah, I am.”
“You shouldn’t be. You’ve got this, Caden.”
She grips my shoulder one last time, and then she walks back to the car and steps inside.
Dyl walks up to me and offers his hand. I grab it with my free hand and we shake. There are too many words and not enough time to say what I want to say, so silence feels right. Once he moves away Natalie gives me a tight hug, then lets me go and joins Juliet in the car.
“What’s with the silence?” says Trevor. “Caden’s about to risk his life, for pete’s sake!” He grabs me in a rough hug. “Go smash it, Caden. I know you will. And Dyl, so help me God, if you don’t hug this glorious boy right now I’m going to have to punch you.”
“If I have to,” says Dyl with a sheepish smile. He looks like a Nice. He walks across to me and extends his arms. I step forward, and he grabs me and pulls me to his chest. He smells like the campfire and coconut shampoo. A few long strands of his silky hair press against my face. In my ear, he whispers: “Do it for us.”
Us.
Not him. Not me.
Us.
I want to ask if he means a capital u Us, like a capital w We, but he lets me go and moves back to the car. Dyl, the real freaking Dyl, referred to the pairing of the real me and the real him as an us. If that doesn’t give me strength, then nothing will.
Or is he talking about us as in Love Interests? Maybe that’s what he meant—like, I should make all the bastards at the LIC suffer on behalf of every single child who was forced into that hellish existence. I want to ask him, to know for sure what he meant, but he’s already climbing back into the car.
I walk to the side of the road and stand on the marshy ground. The car’s engine turns on. The twin beams of the headlights illuminate the path I must follow: the path that will lead me directly to the LIC. I don’t look back as I hear the sound of tires spinning against the road. Then it grows quieter and quieter.
And I’m totally alone.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
Stopping isn’t an option. I know it isn’t. Yet my gut is practically begging me to turn around and sprint toward the forest. Still, I keep going, marching with my head held high toward a place where my death is a very real possibility.
The air is so cold I can see my breath. It’s thick and white, like smoke. I can’t believe I’m returning willingly. I used to think the only way I’d ever go back would be in a body bag or as the prisoner of a Stalker.
But here I am, walking back to the LIC. I can already see it. It’s smaller than I expected, just one square building, not much higher than a house. There’s nothing else around for miles, save for the occasional lonely tree, so I know this is the right spot. Plus, it’s probably nerves, but there’s a strange heaviness in the air, a constant weight pressing me down. As if I didn’t already know there’s something seriously wrong with this place.
My feet make grating sounds as they thump down on the road. I lighten my tread and the sound softens. How many steps have I taken since I left the others? I spin and look behind me. The tree line is about three hundred yards away, although it’s hard to tell due to the murky darkness. I turn back around and check the LIC. It’s about half a mile away.
Now that I’m closer, I can see the square building leads to a runway, one that’s protected by a wire fence. I’ve been here before. This is the bunker. This is where I was taken when I was first assigned to Juliet.
I scratch the bare bump of bone that connects my hand with my forearm. The wires are poking out from above the wool glove. I tug the sleeve of my jacket down, covering them.
Dyl’s smiling face appears in my mind. His real smile, the genuine one, not the one he learned at the LIC. The one that reaches his eyes, lighting them up. The smile he made when he was outside my window. My life has had so much darkness but it’s the sparks of joy, like his smile, I think of now. Kisses. Laughter. Friendship. Those are the things I want to remember, and the things I look forward to.
I guess that makes me an optimist.
I guess that makes me Nice.
A chain-link fence appears. Atop it is a massive curl of razor wire. I reach the gate and loop my fingers through the cold metal.
Time to out-act Craike.