He nods at me: take care of her, the look says. Then he pats me on the shoulder in a grandfatherly way before heading back inside. I will, I think. I’m going to take care of her by getting her the hell away from you.
“Awesome,” Cassie mutters, marching off toward the pile of sticks in the center of the lawn without even looking at me.
“This is going to be okay, you know,” I say, when I’ve made my way over to join her. Do I sound like I believe that? I hope so. I glance back to make sure that Dr. Simons has gone, then lean in and lower my voice. “But we need to go, Cassie, now. Take off through the woods. It’s not safe to wait.”
I consider adding: It’s not safe for you. But I don’t want to scare her that much.
“Grab some sticks, Wylie,” Cassie says. “You heard him. We should all stay busy.”
“And did you hear me?” I ask. She’s upset. I get that. But she is going to have to pull it together. “We need to sneak out of here. If we’re careful, I’m pretty sure we can get away without them stopping us.”
Cassie pauses and turns to look right at me. In her eyes, there’s a crazy toxic mix of fear and anger and sadness.
“No,” she says through gritted teeth. And then she turns with her sticks and marches away.
“Cassie!” I shout after her, feeling angry, but really more hurt.
I stand there, watching her go. Does she not trust me enough to come?
Finally, I step forward and collect my own armful of sticks. When I finally have them gripped against me, I’m reminded of the way I held so tight to all those pointless camping supplies in the garage back at my house. Which makes me think again of Jasper. If only Cassie had never said anything to him. Because he’d be able to convince her to go. I know he would.
As I start down the driveway with my armful of sticks, I feel someone watching me. I turn, bracing to see Dr. Simons, or worse yet, Stuart’s prying eyes on me. But it’s Quentin at the far end of the long porch, some kind of tool gripped at his side. My stomach tightens as our eyes meet and he raises a hand in a wave—and then suddenly there’s a loud voice from the other side of the yard.
“I know that!” It’s Stuart shouting at Dr. Simons, who is shaking his head and staring at the ground. “You think I’m fucking stupid!”
Is Dr. Simons telling Stuart off for giving Cassie that cigarette? Maybe, but it looks like something more. And it definitely feels like Cassie is still hiding something from me.
When I glance back at Quentin, he’s still watching me. I turn away. Uncomfortable because there’s something between us or because I’m just uncomfortable in general. I’m not sure I’d even know the difference.
By the time I’m finally halfway down the driveway, I’ve completely lost sight of Cassie. I have to scan the woods a couple of times before I spot a glowing orange dot to the right. That weird hat Cassie had on.
“Oh, there you are.”
When I turn, Miriam is next to me. And she seems surprised to see me. But also, weirdly, like I am exactly who she was looking for. Where did she even come from? A second ago she was at the top of the hill organizing food. Wasn’t she?
“Were you looking for me?” I ask.
She smiles at me with a twinkle in her eye that’s part sweet, part totally checked out. “Oh, no, dear,” she says, then puts a papery hand on my elbow and squeezes. “But are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I mean, why?” Does she know something I do not? Can she see through to my insides and their slow, toxic unfurling? She was once a nurse.
“You just look tired, dear.” She smiles. “And you’re important. We need you to keep up your strength.”
“Important?” I ask. “Why?”
Because we need you to take care of Cassie, I think.
“Everything is about to change and we’ll need so much help with the transition.”
She’s talking about the Outliers. At least I think she is. And I should probably just nod and smile and leave her be with her maybe-fuzzy brain and all that joy pouring out of her in a beam. But I don’t like the way she’s talking about this situation like it’s the Rapture. Because I’m pretty sure the Rapture starts with everybody being dead.
“The transition?” I ask, because I can’t help myself.
“Oh, yes,” Miriam says, as if she is surprised that no one has told me. “After Cassie shares her gifts with all of us, and we share them with the others. It’ll be a rebirth for all of us. And we have your father to thank.”
And who knows? Maybe Cassie is the Second Coming, my dad a king. That would make me a princess, I guess. If only that were a thing I had ever wanted to be. If only that changed the fact that we need to get the hell out.
“Right, yeah,” I say, because she is definitely waiting for me to agree.