She picked it up and popped the lid. Two pewter charms, each attached to a small length of twine, fell into her palm. She lifted one of the charms and dangled it from her fingertips. It was round and unadorned save for a strange symbol that looked like three interlocking teardrops etched onto the front.
“Keep those on you at all times,” said Hank. “There’s a truck heading into Thornhill tomorrow night. At one thirty a.m., it’ll deliver a load of lumber to a construction site on the east side of camp—dorm fourteen. The guard escorting the truck and the driver will let you stow aboard—after you show them those charms. When the truck leaves, the two of you leave with it.”
Neither Eve nor I spoke. The hum coming off the fence seemed to grow louder, filling the silence until I could feel the vibration in my chest.
Hank wanted to get us out. Both of us. It didn’t make sense. He hadn’t cared about me three years ago, so why care now? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eve drop the charms back into the canister. I shouldn’t have been able to hear the sound they made as they hit the bottom, but I did.
“I’m not going anywhere without Kyle and Serena.”
Eve stepped closer to the fence. “What about the pack? They’re counting on you. I told”—she flexed her hand around the film canister—“I’ve been telling them that you’d think of some way to get us out.”
“I had to practically sell my soul just to make arrangements for the two of you,” said Hank. Then, in a tone that was chillingly matter-of-fact, he added, “They’ll be looking for two girls with those charms. Anyone else approaches that truck and the guard will shoot.”
Eve didn’t back down. “You don’t understand. There are things going on here. Kids are missing—including Eumon kids. Wolves are getting sick and maybe dying. You can’t leave them in here.”
Hank’s eyes flashed. “Even if I could get them out, what do you think would happen if every Eumon disappeared from Thornhill? How long do you think it would take the Trackers or the LSRB to figure out which pack was behind it?” He paused, letting her think it through. Then, each syllable the lash of a whip, he said, “They would wipe us out.”
“So that’s it?” I asked. This side of Hank was familiar. He had stopped pretending and was back to being someone I understood. “You don’t care what happens to them in here.”
He turned his gaze on me. His eyes burned like blue flame, and even though he had never raised a hand to me, I was suddenly glad he was on the other side of a very large, very deadly fence. I had seen my father look at other people that way; the results were never good.
Eve, meanwhile, seemed to disappear inside herself. She stood eerily still, like a living statue. Finally, she said, “You could work with the other packs. The Carteron leader’s daughter is here. If she knew, she’d join with you. The Portheus pack might follow. You could try to take out the whole camp. If you did that, they wouldn’t know who to strike back at. Even the Trackers wouldn’t be crazy enough to retaliate against all three packs.”
“No.”
That was it. One word without explanation or apology.
“The pack will mutiny if they find out you got me out and left the others in here.”
Something shifted behind my father’s eyes. He looked at Eve the way he had looked at me three years ago when he told me he was going out for a pack of cigarettes.
“He’s not going to tell the pack, Eve.”
“They’re not stupid,” she said, and I wasn’t sure if it was me or Hank she was addressing. “They’ll figure it out. They’ll know I didn’t get out on my own.”
Despite the start we had gotten off to, I suddenly felt sorry for her. I had never had any illusions about my father, but I knew how painful it was to discover someone you trusted was a stranger. “He’ll get you out of here, but you won’t be going back to the Eumon.” I glanced at Hank. “Right?”
“There’s a pack in Atlanta. They’re expecting her.”
“I won’t go.”
“Atlanta is nonnegotiable.”
Eve stared at my father as though seeing him for the first time. “I’m not talking about Atlanta. I won’t leave Thornhill knowing I abandoned the others.”
Hank clenched and unclenched his right hand. It was too dark to see the network of scars crisscrossing his knuckles, but for a second, I imagined they shone white. “Do you think this chance is going to come again? Half the wolves in there would—” He suddenly turned.
A half second later, I heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching engine.
“Patrol’s early.” Hank cursed and glanced back at us. “Get to your dorm. Both of you will be on that truck tomorrow. One thirty a.m. No discussion.”
A jeep roared into view. Instinctively, I dropped to the ground, trying to make myself as small as possible as headlights swept the air. Next to me, Eve had the same idea.
After a handful of seconds, I raised my head just enough to see what was going on. Hank was running away from the fence. As I watched, he crumpled and began to shift.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.
Hank’s bones shattered and his muscles snapped. His spine bowed and his mouth opened in a silent scream.
Time slowed down as his body tore itself to pieces. When it was over, a wolf with fur the color of ash mixed with snow stood in his place and everything became a thousand times more reaclass="underline" My father was infected.
Bullets sent up a spray of dirt near the wolf’s paws and time snapped back.
My stomach lurched, but the wolf was a faster and smaller target than the man had been. It—Hank, I reminded myself—dodged the jeep and raced into the night.
The jeep careened recklessly in an attempt to follow as someone yelled what sounded like GPS coordinates into a radio.
Hank was a speck of gray and then he was gone.
I raised myself to a crouch. I could see pinpoints of light in the distance—headlights on our side of the fence.
“Eve.”
She stood and stared at the spot where Hank had disappeared. I pushed myself up and then reached for her arm. “Eve!”
She shoved me away, and I barely kept from landing on my butt. “How could he make a deal to save the two of us and leave the rest of them behind?” Her voice was loud. Too loud.
I glanced nervously in the direction I had last seen the headlights. They had disappeared behind a building, but I had no doubt they were headed this way. Eve was staring at me, waiting for an answer. “I don’t know,” I said. “But we can’t stay here.”
She pulled in a deep breath and then nodded. “Come on,” she said before breaking into a run.
I struggled to keep up. I knew she was slowing her pace for me, but before long I began stumbling over my own feet. It felt like someone had slashed my chest with a knife, and I was concentrating so hard on forcing my legs to keep moving, that I didn’t notice or question where Eve was leading me.
She came to sudden stop. Half blind with exhaustion, I collided with her back. It was like hitting a concrete wall. And, like concrete, Eve didn’t budge when I slammed into her.
I wiped the sweat from my face as I tried to relearn how to breathe. I looked up, expecting the dorm. Instead, I saw red bricks covered in ivy: the sanatorium.
We were near the rear of the building. We stood in the shadow of a shed that was half rotted and looked about a century old. It had probably been here when the first TB patients arrived.
Eve stared up at the former hospital. All of the windows were dark, and the only light came from a small orange-tinted bulb hanging above a steel door. “What do you think happens to them? To the wolves who go missing?”
I swallowed and thought about Serena. “I don’t know.”
“He expected me to leave. To just forget about them. Atlanta.” She uttered the word like a curse as she ran both hands through her hair. “I’m not going. When that truck leaves, I won’t be on it.”