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By the time she reached her locker, she was ready to take a flying leap out of her skin. Deciding not to wait for Blake, she tossed her book bag to the floor and entered her combi­nation. Seconds later, a crisp leaf of notebook paper fluttered to the ground. It landed faceup, asking in bold block letters, HOW FAST CAN YOU RUN, TRAITOR SLUT? NOT FAST ENOUGH. —HUMANIST

Her palms turned to ice. Before she had a chance to nudge the note aside with her boot, the click of shoes sounded from nearby, and with a gasp, Cara whirled to find Tori approach­ing slowly from the bathroom, wearing a cautious expression. She must have been standing there—watching and waiting—since before homeroom started.

Cara froze. She didn’t like this. Something was off.

“Hey,” Tori said quietly, inching closer until she reached the locker bank.

On instinct, Cara backed up and put a couple feet between them. “Hey, yourself.”

“I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I know,” Cara said. “I didn’t have anything to say.”

“You shouldn’t have ignored me.”

Tori’s gaze began darting over Cara’s head—once, twice, three times. When the hairs on the back of Cara’s neck began to prickle, she turned to look over her shoulder, but by then it was too late.

A large hand appeared from behind and clapped over her mouth, tugging her backward. She tasted salty flesh, and she kicked out fiercely, flinging herself forward in a wild attempt to escape. She searched in vain for Tori, who’d vanished from view. Pulse pounding in her ears, Cara sucked a panicked breath through her nose and tried to think rationally. Pow­erful arms lifted her off the floor and no amount of flailing helped. Noise! She had to make noise. She screamed, but only muffled grunts escaped from her covered lips. A dozen gruesome images flooded her mind, and she kicked her heels against the assailant’s shins in panic. It didn’t slow him down at all.

He dragged her into a dark room and she heard the door click shut. The scent of wet mops and ammonia told her they were inside the janitor’s closet, but the low sliver of light leak­ing from beneath the door wasn’t enough to make anything out. Feeling her eyes widen in the darkness, she tried to scream again, digging her heel into her attacker’s foot. He pressed his hand even harder against her face and hissed in pain.

“Shut up, Cara! It’s just me, calm down. God damn it, that really hurt!”

Her galloping heart skipped a beat. Eric?

“You’re safe. I’m gonna move my hand. Promise you won’t scream, okay?”

She nodded and Eric pulled his hand away, but then she burst forward, swinging her fists blindly at him. “You asshole! You scared the crap out of me!”

Tori’s voice ordered, “Quiet! We’re trying to help you, but we’ve only got a minute.”

As Cara’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she was able to identify the outlines of her ex-friends. She and Tori stood nose to nose—or considering their height difference, more like nose to boobs—inside the cramped space while Eric pressed against the door in a futile effort to give her some space.

After Cara caught her breath, she hissed, “You had to ambush me—you couldn’t just send an e-mail?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tori whispered. “E-mails are hacked every day. The last thing I need is proof that I talked to you.”

“Well, what about the cameras?” Cara asked. “Whoever’s in the office just saw you two drag me in here.”

“No, they didn’t,” Tori said. “I shut them off after I grabbed the closet key. I’m an office aide during homeroom now.”

“So you’re the one turning off the cameras?” Cara asked. “Does that mean you two covered for whoever pushed Ashley down the stairs?”

Anger and pain thickened Eric’s voice. “You really think we could do that? I mean, I’d kinda like to choke you for almost breaking my shins, but—”

“I have no idea what you could do,” Cara told him. “I never believed you’d go after my best friend.”

Tori took a step closer. She finally seemed willing to look Cara in the eye. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen. He was the only person I knew at the meetings, so we sat together and . . .” She trailed off, looking down for just a second before lifting her gaze again. “Then I realized he was the only sane one there. The others are nuttier than squirrel mierda.”

“So you’re not really together?”

Tori bit her lip. “No, we are.” She shrugged, looking help­lessly at Eric. “I don’t know. He just sorta grew on me.”

“Like a fungus,” Eric added. “Those were her exact words.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “How romantic.”

“Moving on . . .” Eric prompted.

Tori nodded. “You have to send the A-Licker home.” A noise from the hall startled them, and Tori lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. “I know you wanna birth his alien babies or whatever, but it’s gotta stop. The Patriots aren’t screwing around anymore.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” Eric said. “The meetings are scary now. People talk about declaring war on the government—like full-on civil war. And guess who’s traitor number one?”

“Aelyx?”

“Unh-uh.” Tori pointed at Cara. “His girlfriend.”

“I’m not his—”

“Whatever,” Eric said. “It’s your fault he’s here to begin with, and everyone hates you for it.”

“Everyone?” she asked.

Tori let her arms hang limp, shoulders slouching like she didn’t have the energy to stay angry anymore. She heaved a sigh, and when her eyes met Cara’s, they glistened with unshed tears. “You’ve still got a couple fans. We’ve been look­ing out for you.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Eric said. “Marcus was running his mouth last night after the meeting. He didn’t say who, but HALO’s got people following you to learn your routine, and they’re gonna try to jump you and Aelyx the next time you leave your house.”

“So don’t leave your house,” Tori said. “You shouldn’t even be walking the halls alone.”

Cara thought back to that day at the nature preserve. She’d known it wasn’t a hiker watching them from the trees.

“Someone’s leaving threats in my locker, too.”

“Probably Marcus,” Eric said. “He hates you worse than jock itch.”

Tori hooked a thumb at the door. “I should go soon, or Mrs. Greene will wonder what took me so long in the bathroom.”

Eric nodded. “Me, too.”

“Be careful,” Cara warned, trying not to imagine what the Patriots would do to Eric and Tori if they discovered a pair of moles within their ranks.

Tori started to say something but hesitated, and after one quick wave, she and Eric were gone, leaving Cara alone and a little dazed inside the dark closet. Their exchange seemed surreal, as if she’d wandered in there among the buckets and urinal cakes and imagined the whole thing.

Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for squeaking soles or hushed voices. After hearing none, she stepped slowly into the hall and squinted against the brightness. A quick glance up and down the corridor showed she was alone, so she reopened her locker and retrieved an armload of books.

But wait. Where was the note and, more importantly, where was her bag?

She’d dropped it right there before Eric dragged her into the closet. After scanning the hallway for several minutes, she gave up. Screw it. She shoved the books back in her locker and slammed it shut. After everything that had happened that morning, schoolwork hardly seemed like a priority anyway. And to think scholarship money had lured her into this mess.

Chapter Twenty-One

Cara trudged down the steps and waved at Soldier Barry, who sat on the ground by the flagpole, his rifle resting across his lap.