recognize the voice—Tommy’s. “There were three of them. I thought they could handle the situation. Why you freaking so bad? Did the Fec escape?”
“Len’s. Dead. He—”
“Was killed by the Fec?” four voices ask at once, not letting Bowen finish. Guns click, feet scuffle, and the tent flap is thrown aside. The four guards peer in at me with scared eyes, their guns aimed at my heart.
“I don’t know what happened. Len was in the tent,” Bowen says, pushing between the guns and me. “But I’ve got to get the kid out of there. I’ll put him in my tent. You guys take care of Len.”
“Wait … you’re taking him to
your
tent? He killed Len! He’s on the verge! Have you lost your—” Tommy’s mouth snaps shut as his dark eyes move between Bowen and me. “Dude, Bowen. Is the Fec wearing your
shirt
?” he asks.
Bowen clears his throat and glances at his bare chest. “Yeah. I guess so.” He kneels beside me, releases my ankle cuffs, and helps me out of the tent.
“Whoa. You’re
touching
a Level
Ten
, Bo. And he’s not wearing wrist cuffs! It’s no wonder he killed Len. For the sake of the camp, get him fully restrained!”
Bowen glares at Tommy. “I’m the one who is in charge of the Fec. I’ll do what I deem necessary for the safety of the camp. Now, come on.” The armed guard follows us as he leads me to his tent. He holds the flap up while I crawl inside, and then I am alone, segregated from the others by fabric walls. “Do not leave your post! No matter what,” Bowen says to the men now standing outside his tent. “And if the kid does anything,
Tase
before you shoot. Tase to
stun
, not kill.”
“Where are you going?” Tommy asks.
“I’ve got a few things to do,” Bowen says, voice fading as he walks away.
I lie atop Bowen’s sleeping bag with my head on his soft pillow. Wrapping my tender arms around my chest, I roll onto my side and stare at the darkness, wondering what’s going to happen to me now. Now that I have killed one of the militia. Do they hang people for murder, even if it is self-defense? Are they going to stand me against the wall, line up, and shoot me?
My thoughts turn slowly from a tornado of fear and dreadfor my future to a gently swirling oblivion, and my eyes refuse to stay open.
Quiet footsteps make my heart race and pull me from a sleep filled with nightmares. When the tent flap swings aside, I open my mouth to scream.
“It’s me,” Bowen says. His voice is salve to my fear. My mouth snaps shut as he crawls into the tent, barely illuminated by the first hint of a gray dawn.
“Where’s your uniform?” I whisper. He’s wearing faded blue jeans and a tattered Sprite T-shirt.
“I hid it.” He stuffs some things into a backpack and slings it over his shoulder.
“Why would you do that?” I ask.
He looks at me, eyes troubled. “We’re going rogue. Until Sunday.”
“Rogue? You mean, we’re leaving the camp?”
He nods.
“Why?”
“I can protect the camp from you, no problem. But …” He takes an empty backpack from the corner of the tent and crams the sleeping bag into it. “… I can’t protect
you
from the
camp
. We’re going out on our own until I can get you to the lab.” He tosses the pack at me, and I catch it.
“What do you mean, protect me from the camp?” I ask, dread making me shiver.
“For starters, you killed Len with your bare hands. You’re agirl. You shouldn’t be strong enough to kill him. Extreme bursts of strength are one of the first signs of turning.” His eyes meet mine. “Once the camp finds out, they’ll think you’re on the verge.”
I swallow, wondering if I am on the verge. Am I about to morph into a bloodthirsty beast? I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday. Not physically, at least.
“What do you think,” I ask, searching Bowen’s face.
Bowen catches his lip in his teeth and stares at me for a long time. “I would have done the same thing if our roles were reversed.
“Len’s. Dead. He—”
“Was killed by the Fec?” four voices ask at once, not letting Bowen finish. Guns click, feet scuffle, and the tent flap is thrown aside. The four guards peer in at me with scared eyes, their guns aimed at my heart.
“I don’t know what happened. Len was in the tent,” Bowen says, pushing between the guns and me. “But I’ve got to get the kid out of there. I’ll put him in my tent. You guys take care of Len.”
“Wait … you’re taking him to
your
tent? He killed Len! He’s on the verge! Have you lost your—” Tommy’s mouth snaps shut as his dark eyes move between Bowen and me. “Dude, Bowen. Is the Fec wearing your
shirt
?” he asks.
Bowen clears his throat and glances at his bare chest. “Yeah. I guess so.” He kneels beside me, releases my ankle cuffs, and helps me out of the tent.
“Whoa. You’re
touching
a Level
Ten
, Bo. And he’s not wearing wrist cuffs! It’s no wonder he killed Len. For the sake of the camp, get him fully restrained!”
Bowen glares at Tommy. “I’m the one who is in charge of the Fec. I’ll do what I deem necessary for the safety of the camp. Now, come on.” The armed guard follows us as he leads me to his tent. He holds the flap up while I crawl inside, and then I am alone, segregated from the others by fabric walls. “Do not leave your post! No matter what,” Bowen says to the men now standing outside his tent. “And if the kid does anything,
Tase
before you shoot. Tase to
stun
, not kill.”
“Where are you going?” Tommy asks.
“I’ve got a few things to do,” Bowen says, voice fading as he walks away.
I lie atop Bowen’s sleeping bag with my head on his soft pillow. Wrapping my tender arms around my chest, I roll onto my side and stare at the darkness, wondering what’s going to happen to me now. Now that I have killed one of the militia. Do they hang people for murder, even if it is self-defense? Are they going to stand me against the wall, line up, and shoot me?
My thoughts turn slowly from a tornado of fear and dreadfor my future to a gently swirling oblivion, and my eyes refuse to stay open.
Quiet footsteps make my heart race and pull me from a sleep filled with nightmares. When the tent flap swings aside, I open my mouth to scream.
“It’s me,” Bowen says. His voice is salve to my fear. My mouth snaps shut as he crawls into the tent, barely illuminated by the first hint of a gray dawn.
“Where’s your uniform?” I whisper. He’s wearing faded blue jeans and a tattered Sprite T-shirt.
“I hid it.” He stuffs some things into a backpack and slings it over his shoulder.
“Why would you do that?” I ask.
He looks at me, eyes troubled. “We’re going rogue. Until Sunday.”
“Rogue? You mean, we’re leaving the camp?”
He nods.
“Why?”
“I can protect the camp from you, no problem. But …” He takes an empty backpack from the corner of the tent and crams the sleeping bag into it. “… I can’t protect
you
from the
camp
. We’re going out on our own until I can get you to the lab.” He tosses the pack at me, and I catch it.
“What do you mean, protect me from the camp?” I ask, dread making me shiver.
“For starters, you killed Len with your bare hands. You’re agirl. You shouldn’t be strong enough to kill him. Extreme bursts of strength are one of the first signs of turning.” His eyes meet mine. “Once the camp finds out, they’ll think you’re on the verge.”
I swallow, wondering if I am on the verge. Am I about to morph into a bloodthirsty beast? I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday. Not physically, at least.
“What do you think,” I ask, searching Bowen’s face.
Bowen catches his lip in his teeth and stares at me for a long time. “I would have done the same thing if our roles were reversed.
Similar Books
