“No one could pull that off,” Ben called over. “How’s he supposed to do it? Battle all the Hosts and bring her back?”
Patrick and I still didn’t break our eye contact. Though there were nearly a hundred bodies in the gym, this was between brother and brother. My heart thumped in my chest, strong and true. What he’d said and how he’d said it had shown me a strength I hadn’t known I had.
I said, “I’ll think of something.”
Patrick’s lips pressed together behind the mask. “He always does,” he said, his eyes still locked on mine.
I swept a gaze across all those faces. They’d stay here together, sleeping on cots behind the safety of the perimeter fence. For a moment I envied them.
But something in their gazes caught me by surprise.
They envied me.
“Bring her back, Chance,” Patrick said.
He gestured for me to lean close. Condensation from his breath fogged the mask, and I could see that he was struggling not to cry. He took off his black cowboy hat.
And put it on my head.
I stepped away. Taking Alex’s hockey stick, I shoved it into her gear bag and slung the straps over my shoulders so the end stuck up like a sword handle, just how she used to wear it. The gym remained dead silent, all focus turned to me. I did my best to ignore it. Wearing the Stetson low over my eyes helped block everyone and everything out. I heard nothing but the steady rush of my breath. In, out. In, out. To keep the fear from catching me, I just had to breathe and force my body to do whatever was next.
As I headed across the court to the supply station, Eve rose from her cot and walked at my side. When we got there, she went around the little desk, sat, and looked up with a mock-official expression.
“So,” she said, “what can I help you with?”
She was trying for a light tone, but I could see how worried she was. I loaded up with water bottles, stale sandwiches, energy bars, and batteries for the flashlight, preserving the perishables in Ziplocs in case it rained. I also encased my notebook in a plastic bag to protect it. Darkness was gathering at the windows. A few minutes more and it would be night.
“You want your brother’s shotgun?” she asked.
“Too big for me,” I said.
“Just these, then?” she said, sliding my baling hooks across the desk.
I slipped the loops onto my wrists, then leaned over and pointed to one of the shelves. “And that.”
Sheriff Blanton’s revolver. The one I’d taken from his bedroom back on that endless first night.
“What good is it without bullets?” she asked as she reached for it.
“I know where to find bullets,” I said.
She handed it to me, and I clipped the holster to my belt. Then I nodded at her and touched the brim of the cowboy hat, a mock formality to match hers from earlier. She managed a smile.
“Thank you for everything, Eve,” I said.
She couldn’t help but beam a little.
“You’re a good friend,” I said, and her smile faded a few watts. I realized too late how my words had cut her. I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but I also didn’t have it in me to figure out how to fix it right now. I was concerned about a thousand things, and feelings weren’t one of them.
I took the gun and turned to leave.
That first time we’d left the safety of the school to head for Stark Peak, there’d been the three of us like always. Me, Patrick, Alex.
The second time, sneaking into the hospital, me and Patrick.
Now it was just me.
As if he sensed my thoughts, Cassius trotted over to join me.
We threaded our way through the cots, heading out. As I neared the exit, my shadow fell before me and crept up the closed double doors. It was tall and broad, topped by a cowboy hat. It didn’t look like my shadow at all.
It looked like Patrick’s.
ENTRY 30
A light rain pinged the leaves all around me, making them dance. Cassius shook off water, then shook again. Most ridgebacks don’t like rain. They’re bred for the African desert, and water annoys them.
I stood a few feet back from the tree line, foliage framing my face as I peered at the rear of the church. There were no flatbed trucks or pallet jacks or patrolling Hosts. Aside from the faint patter of rain, everything was still. I couldn’t sense movement through the stained glass.
But I knew I had to take a closer look.
After a few quick breaths to steel myself, I put Cassius on a sit-stay and sprinted across the back parking lot, diving over the hedge. I lay there against the base of the building, gripping the baling hooks, listening for any sounds. It took me longer than seemed reasonable to catch my breath. Then it struck me—I wasn’t so much winded as afraid.
Though I’d figured it would be scarier out here without Patrick, I hadn’t counted on how much scarier.