The Terminals by Royce Scott Buckingham

secrets and notes, but it was nice to know someone was watching him.

 
    CAM’S PLAYLIST
    11. LOVE RHYMES WITH SHOVE   
    by Lisa Ran Away
    12. BOY FEVER
    by Wind Chimes and Grace
    13. SEXT ME
    by Jackie Z
    â€œYou love me, shove me, put yourself above me.”
    The day began with a trail run. Cam had run trails back home in Bellingham, Washington, for soccer conditioning—Chuckanut and Galbraith mountains, five miles up and five back down. But jogging the open paths of the county parks was nothing compared to a jungle run. Half of the time, Cam found himself fighting through underbrush or crawling up muddy hillsides. Ward and Pilot followed them, picking off the slow among them with paintball guns.
    Jules was first—shot in the leg. Calliope made the mistake of stopping to see if her friend was okay and was taken next. Three balls of red paint exploded against the side of her ribs so that she looked like a clown wearing a polka dot shirt. The paintballs hurt and left welts, and Cam winced when he saw her jerk sideways. Even as he watched from up the hill, the rest of the team ran on, leaving him in the rear. He turned and scrambled after them.
    Gwen twisted an ankle and went down. Cam heard her tell Ward that he didn’t need to shoot her, because she was unable to finish anyway. Then she begged. There were two hollow thumps and yelps of pain, and Cam realized Ward had plugged her anyway. Cam wondered where he’d shot her.
    Ari shouted for the rest of them to split up into two pairs and a trio. Because he was team leader for the mission, they did as he said without delay or question, as Ward had instructed. Even Donnie bit his lip and complied. He and Owen went south. Ari, Zara, and Cam went north. Tegan and Wally doubled back, attempting to sneak past their pursuers. It was Wally’s suggestion, and they dashed off before Ari could object. They were “dead” before they could find hiding places.
    With only two groups left, Ward and Pilot could split up and follow them both.
    â€œI’m climbing,” Ari said suddenly. He was panting, and he could hardly get the words out. Even on TS-9, he was exhausted.
    â€œYou’ll be trapped up there.”
    â€œI know. But you won’t. Zara, leave your pack at the base of the tree. Cam, give me one shoe, then both of you go ten yards and bury yourselves in the brush. No, better make it fifteen. Go!”
    They understood and didn’t argue. Zara dropped her pack, and Cam handed over his shoe. Then they busted tail through the brush while Ari climbed the tree with the thickest branches and leaves. He went up easily for a skinny guy, hand-over-hand. The two of them found a dense thicket and squirmed into it.
    The figure that broke into view was muscular and dexterous, leaping obstacles like a panther. Ward. They were unlucky. Pilot was not as strong and agile or as good a shot. Their personal trainer stopped and surveyed the area, suspicious. He glanced up, spotted Ari, who was easily visible, then circled the tree at ten yards. Ari wedged himself in. Moments later, Cam’s shoe tumbled out of the tree and fell right in front of Ward, bouncing on the soft loam of the rainforest floor.
    Ward nodded and started up, grabbing the lowest branch. He went up quickly, gun in hand. He was so fast that Cam and Zara hardly had time to break cover and run before he realized he’d been tricked, shot Ari from below, and descended like a monkey. He swung from branch to branch as they tore back toward the compound, putting distance between themselves and their instructor.
    â€œGo, baby!” Ari shouted.
    â€œShut it,” Ward growled as he leaped from the tree. “You’re dead.”
    Cam was fast—college soccer fast—but he was missing a shoe. Zara outpaced him, her muscular legs pumping, carrying her over rocks and roots. She plowed through thick underbrush with such power that she passed Cam and left a trail of