“Did anyone see you on the roof?”

  “A couple of people, but no one could’ve known about this place. They were down on the sidewalk. They only saw me fire the shot.”

  “What about afterwards?”

  I picture the stairs, the office, the elevator. That big paw waving me into the bathroom.

  Sharon’s face squinches up. “Wendell?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t tell him anything. He already knew. He heard it from someone. But he didn’t tell anyone, at least not after he saw me.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Because he’s dead.”

  “Still, he heard it from someone? Who?”

  “I don’t know, Sharon. Could be anyone. I mean, this operation isn’t exactly a well-oiled machine.”

  Sharon glares at me then walks over to the cave. “Alright everyone, listen up! We’ve got ten minutes to get off this mountain or else our ride is gone. So let’s move!”

  Sharon’s chosen ones keep hurling rocks. A few have torches, which they douse with gasoline. Carlos and some guy who works at the deli carry this giant spooled up ladder.

  Danny says, “I wanna help.”

  Sara tells him okay and Danny heads over to the cave and starts chucking rocks. Sara looks at my torn jacket, but doesn’t ask about the cut. She’s listening to my thoughts about Wendell, another unlucky soul who made the mistake of running into me. He didn’t need to die. He was just trying to help me, even after all the awful shit he heard me think about him.

  “It’s going to be okay. It will,” Sara says. “We’re getting out of here.”

  “Yeah, lucky us.”

  All Wendell wanted was for me to help his sister, Becky. He gave up his life because I promised him I would.

  “Joe, you need to let it go. We only have ten minutes to get out of here. The girl will be fine.”

  “No…” Once we’re gone, the people left behind will never be safe. They’ll lock it down and turn it into a zoo.

  Carlos and the guy from the deli set down the spooled up ladder. I walk over.

  Carlos looks up and says, “Joe!”

  I don’t have time for him. I say to the other guy, “Do you know Becky? Wendell’s sister? She works with you, I think.”

  He says he does, feels like shit about it. The girl’s only sixteen. She has no one left.

  “Do you know where she is? Where I can find her?”

  “She was at the deli earlier, but there’s a curfew now. Might be at home. Lodge Two, I think. Yeah. Second floor.”

  I nod and turn back. Sara’s right there.

  “Joe, come on, let’s just go help Danny, okay?” Sara takes my arm. But I’m not going with her. I’m looking for the shotgun.

  “Are you crazy? If you go back there with a gun, they’ll kill you.”

  Sara’s right, I have to go unarmed. One shotgun isn’t going to stop every Boot. It’s only going to draw them in.

  “Joe, please don’t do this.”

  I look at the cave. They’re only halfway done with the rocks. I’m already backing down the hill. Sara begs me to stay.

  I tell her, “I’ll be back in time. I promise.”

  “Yeah? And if you’re not?”

  “Then leave and don’t look back.”

  Sara is still yelling as I take off into the woods. I’m running down the hill. Trees fly by and I jump over a log, dodge holes, angle left at my carvings. I pump my arms as fast as they go. The pond is less than twenty yards away. My left foot slides out beneath me and gets caught on something in the snow, my ankle cracking. It’s not broken, but it’s definitely sprained. I don’t have long before it swells. I put most of the pressure on my right leg, but keep moving. My left foot barely touches the ground as I head towards the Square.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Most of the lamp posts in the park are lit, but a couple have been shot out, glass scattered beneath them. I make it to the Square. The streets are so quiet and empty it’s creepy. It must be because of the curfew, which makes me realize trying the deli is pointless. No one is going to be there so I head for Lodge Two. I have to cross the street, but otherwise I try to stay up against the buildings.

  There’s a Boot up ahead. He’s scraping something off his sole. Gum or something.

  I crouch as low as I can without putting my ass on the ground. It puts pressure on my ankle, but I can’t be seen. The Boot is hopping on one leg, losing his balance. I slip around the corner, cross in between two buildings. I start to take a left when I hear this faint buzzing sound.

  There’s a security camera somewhere. They must have realized most of them had been disabled. I wonder how many are back on.

  There’s a fence to the left. It’s about five feet high. I check both ways then take off and run, but my ankle gives out. My hand goes to the pavement. I’m completely exposed so I spring up and hobble onto the grass. I climb the fence, flinging my body over the top and land on my side to protect my ankle.

  Lodge Two is just over a small hill. I creep towards it, see two Boots out front. They’re armed and trying to look real serious, even though no one is around. I figure there must be a camera on the front door. They’re being watched, which means I need to find another way in. I swoop around towards the side and look up at the second floor. There’s no way I could climb up, even with two good ankles. But the first floor offers opportunity. There’s a window and it’s slightly open, which is odd in this cold.

  I move closer and hear voices inside the apartment.

  A woman says, “I told you I was sick.”

  A man says, “Oh, believe me I know, and it’s disgusting.”

  I duck walk the rest of the way, praying there isn’t a camera. I get to the ledge and slowly lift my head up over the sill. The living room is empty, just the same shitty furniture as every apartment in Brightside. The bedroom door is closed and so is the bathroom. They both have lights on, which spills out under the doors.

  My breath is streaming fog and I can barely feel my fingers. I look at my watch. I only have five minutes to make it back. I’m already behind schedule and I haven’t even made it to the second floor. Instinct tells me to turn back. I can still make it if I hurry, but Wendell keeps popping into my head. His big giant body splayed on the wet bathroom floor. The holes in his chest, his face.

  The window gives the slightest creak as I lift it a few inches. Luckily, the couple is still arguing from different rooms. I don’t think they can even hear each other because they’re saying the same thing.

  I press up on my right foot and hoist myself through. My stupid coat is getting stuck so I have to wiggle a bit. I nearly propel my face to the floor, but my hands spring out and soften the blow. I’m heading for the front door when I hear a flush.

  The knob begins to turn and I nearly trip over the coffee table, my hand frantically reaching out for the door. The bathroom light flicks off and I turn the knob, slip out just in time.

  The hallway’s empty. The stairs are at the other end. I hobble and hurry and use the handrail to keep weight off my left foot. There are at least eight doors on the second floor, and I have no idea which one is Becky’s. I don’t have time to try them all, so I just knock on the first one. A middle-aged woman, with dry, frizzy hair, answers. I think I’ve seen her washing dishes at the diner.

  “I’m looking for Becky,” I say.

  “No Becky lives here.”

  “Okay, but she’s on this floor. Do you know which one is hers?”

  The woman scratches her scalp and something comes off in her nail. She pinches it and studies it.

  “Please. Her name’s Becky. Wendell’s sister?”

  “Oh,” she says, drawing out the word like it has fifteen letters. “Yeah, weird girl. She’s over there.” The woman points to the last door on the right. There’s still a piece of scab under her nail. I tell her thanks and start hobbling.

  This floor seems so familiar, but I can’t remember ever being here.

  I knock on the last door.

  A girl says, “I’m in bed.” She sounds frightened, like she’s been caught doing something bad.

  “Becky, I’m a friend of your brother’s. Please, just come to the door.” I hear her moving around. I also see the middle-aged woman peering out her door. But as long as she’s peering, she’s not calling the Boots.

  Finally, the door opens and I see Becky, a frail, freckle-faced girl with big brown eyes that look like she’s been crying.

  “You don’t know me,” I say, “but your brother sent me.”

  “My brother’s dead.”

  “Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry, but he asked me to make sure… Can I come in?”

  It’s like she knows she’s being watched. She says, “No. I can’t have visitors.”

  I’m not trying to get you in trouble, but your brother asked me to come get you.

  Why?

  So you can leave Brightside for good.

  “I…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I know she’s lying, but she’s also scared.

  She starts to close the door, but I block with my left foot, pain ripping through my ankle.

  I grit my teeth. He risked his life for me, Becky. He did it so I could escape and so you could, too. Your brother wanted you to get out. He made me promise I’d come get you. Now, I can’t force you to do anything, but I gave Wendell my word. I owe him. That’s why I’m here. But you have to make up your own mind and it has to be right now. We don’t have any more time.

  Becky stares at nothing, trying to process what I’m telling her, but she’s also thinking about Wendell. She knows her brother would’ve done anything to help her escape.

  The door behind me opens and I hear this awful voice I know too well.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Krystal.

  And it all comes back. Lodge Two, second floor.

  I stay focused. So what’s it going to be, Becky?

  “Oh shit.” Krystal laughs. “You’re a fucking pervert. She’s sixteen!”

  Becky, you have to decide right now. Yes or no?

  Becky keeps staring at the floor. She’s unable or unwilling to comprehend what I’m saying. I start to think this is a mistake. Here I am trying to convince a girl I’ve never met to run off with me into the woods. And Sharon’s ride is probably already here, about to leave, and I’m going to miss it.

  But then Becky looks up with those big brown eyes and nods.

  I silently tell her to get her coat, that we’re already late. She asks if she can pack a bag and I tell her there’s no time. Sharon’s club is leaving as we speak.

  I shouldn’t have thought it, regretted it the moment it flew out of my head.

  “You’re the ones causing this shit?” Krystal’s voice fills the entire lodge. “That’s why we have a curfew? So you idiots can try to escape?”

  Krystal is shoving me, prodding her fingers into the back of my head. Other doors start opening, people popping out to see what’s going on. I try not to look at them, but I catch a young man’s eyes. He wants to know if it’s true. If there really is a way off this mountain.

  I don’t mean to picture the pond, the carvings in the tree, the hill, and the cave, or maybe I do. I have no clue what I’m doing anymore.

  Then another familiar sound, far worse than Krystal.

  The faint sound of bootsteps.

  And they’re getting louder and louder.

  I jump into Becky’s room, slam the door, lock it. Krystal’s banging and screaming and telling everyone the traitor is right here.

  Becky puts on her coat, her boots. I hobble to the window and open it. There are some bushes and it looks like a snow bank has blown up against the building.

  Krystal’s outside the door telling the Boots to hurry up.

  I take Becky’s hand, tell her it’s going to be okay. She ducks her head under the window and slips out first, her fingers gripping the sill. She’s terrified.

  “It’s okay. Just jump.”

  Words I never thought would ever leave my mouth.

  But Becky lets go and falls, and I stick my head out to see her lying on her back. I can’t tell if she’s breathing, but then she smiles.

  The key slips into the lock. The bolt turns. I stick my leg through the window, duck under and look back to see the doorknob turn. I let go. Just falling in the dark. The snow breaks my fall, but not really. I’m heavier than Becky and she already smashed a lot of the powder. I can barely breathe, but I pull myself up, keep most of my weight on my right foot as we run for the park.

  I’m running, hobbling down the path, shouting for Becky to keep up. I hear voices in the distance. Someone says we’re heading for the trees.

  I take Becky’s hand so we don’t get separated. She’s so light she’s not sinking in the snow like I am when we step off the path and into the woods.

  I practically drag her between two enormous pines, the needles scratching our faces and clothes.

  Someone yells, “Stop right there!”

  But I don’t look back, just keep moving as fast as my ankle will let me.

  “Are they going to shoot us?” Becky asks.

  “No,” I tell her. “They have to warn us first.”

  A cloud slides over the moon and I can hardly see all the rocks and dead logs. I nearly trip. So does Becky. I say, “Keep going, that’s all we have to do.”

  I think I see the tree with my carvings, but I can’t be sure.

  Gunfire erupts behind us, bullets blowing through branches on both sides.

  So much for a warning.

  Another bullet whizzes by. It’s so close my entire body is covered with goose bumps.

  Carvings or not, I yank us right. My ankle’s practically numb from the snow and we sprint through a bunch of trees and start moving up the hill. Becky’s frail, but she’s a fighter, keeps churning, running, even when it sounds like she’s about to have an asthma attack.

  Other than her labored breaths, I don’t hear anything. No more shots. I wonder if we somehow lost them. It’s only thirty yards to the cave. I squeeze Becky’s hand and keep pulling her up the hill until we hit the rubble.

  I look back expecting to see a dozen Boots storming like it’s the beaches of Normandy, but no one seems to be coming.

  I realize Wayne’s body is missing, too. I know he didn’t just stand up and walk away though. I saw the bullet enter his psychotic brain. There’s a three-foot wide path that leads to the trees. The Brightsiders must have dragged him away to keep the Boots off our trail.

  I lift Becky over the few remaining rocks blocking the cave, set her down in the darkness.

  “What is this?” Becky asks.

  I silently tell her to be quiet.

  I’m not holding her hand, but I know she’s trembling. I reach into my pocket for my keys, but my fingers are so frozen I can’t keep a grip. They clang on the ground. I kneel, put my hands on the cold dirt and sweep around and around until I hear a jingle. I pick up the keys and hold them in front of my face, but I can’t see anything but black.

  I wanna go home, Becky says.

  Hold on…

  Danny’s little flashlight clicks and shines across the ground. I see the rusty steel tracks. We just have to follow these. Come on.

  Becky wraps her hands around my arm and we start moving. The wooden beams creak as we descend down the belly of the mountain. The tunnel splits after a few hundred yards. I take us right. I silently tell Becky what part of the mountain we’re walking under, even though I’m not entirely sure. I just know she loosens her grip a little. She asks if this could collapse.

  Out loud, she asks, “How would anyone find us if it does—”

  I cover her mouth. There’s someone coming. They’re a ways behind us, but not that far.

  I silently tell Becky we have to run. I’m pretty sure she’s nodding even though I can’t see her face. I quicken our pace, remind her to tread lightly, to keep quiet, even though I can’t. The numbness in my ankle has worn off, and the pain is searing. I keep dragging my left foot no matter how much I try not to. It’s scrapping across the rocks and dirt and echoing so loud.

  Becky takes the flashlight, which lets me balance better. I put one hand on her shoulder.

  How much farther? she asks.

  I honestly don’t remember. It’s been two weeks since I’ve stepped foot in the mineshaft, but I don’t think we have far to go.

  But the Boots are getting closer. I can’t tell how many of them there are, but it really doesn’t matter since I don’t have the shotgun.

  Suddenly, more voices. Familiar ones. But not from behind. They’re just up ahead. I see the end of the rope ladder anchored into steel plates under the tracks. Each rung gets a bit brighter. The exit to the mine is ten yards away.

  And we have company.

  Danny and Sara are standing at the edge, a hundred stars twinkling behind them. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen, but I’m still mad. What are you doing here? I ask.

  “Joe!”

  I slam my hand over Danny’s mouth and turn back to the darkness. I can’t tell if the Boots are moving quicker or not.

  I turn to Sara. I told you to go.

  Danny refused.

  Yeah, I refused.

  I step up to the edge and look down two hundred feet. The last of Sharon’s club is loading into the back of a huge moving truck. Sharon walks up to the driver. I can’t see his face, but he’s clearly pissing her off. Her arms swing wildly as she screams. But the guy’s not budging, and Sharon looks up at us. I can barely hear her saying, “Fucking move!”

  Come on, we have to go, Danny. Can you do this?

  Danny nods and gets down on his knees. He grips the rungs. Little by little he crawls backwards, down over the edge.

  Sara is telling him to be careful. He’s almost vertical when he just stops. Sara’s eyes pop.

  What’s wrong? she asks.

  Danny must think since he’s outside now, hanging off the edge, that he can talk as loud as he wants. “I found your gun, Joe!”

  Danny, be quiet.

  Danny’s face turns red. I silently ask him where it is and Danny’s head jerks towards my left. I fear he’s going to fling himself right off the ladder.