“I seen him before,” said Will, checking behind him. “In the woods. He thinks I don’t remember, but I remember.”
It was possible he’d seen Jesse hunting from the safe house—Jesse had said they’d had run-ins with the Lost Boys before.
“You mean before DeWitt brought you here,” Chase said.
“DeWitt didn’t bring me nowhere.” Will snatched his plate. “I go where I want.”
“My mistake,” said Chase.
At the sound of footsteps from inside the lodge, the boy paused, and lifted his nose like an animal who’d caught a scent.
“They’re at the graveyard,” said Will quickly. “It’s—”
“I know where it is,” I said, then wilted a little when Chase’s brow cocked in my direction. I was surprised DeWitt had left the lodge without us knowing. We must have slept through it.
Before we could ask any more, Will sped away.
“Jumpy,” said Chase.
“At least he’s not trying to catch me in a net,” I said, frowning as Will disappeared back inside the cafeteria. It was possible that he could have seen Chase’s uncle in the woods. For an instant, I pictured Will throwing a net over the man twice his size and couldn’t help but grin.
Chase smirked. “I guess some people can be rehabilitated after all.”
“What can I say?” I said with a sigh. “I’m not Sister material.”
“Definitely not.”
I elbowed him in the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He laughed, then abruptly cleared his throat. The blood rushed to my skin. I could still feel his fingertips trailing down my arm, his grip, firm and warm behind my bent knee. The heat of his breath on my neck and the way we both fumbled, and trembled, and finally found each other.
I became acutely aware of my hands and how they dangled awkwardly at my sides. I needed to do something with them. I settled on chewing my pinky nail.
“To the graveyard?” he asked.
“Right,” I said. “Yes. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER
14
A NERVOUS energy sparked between us as we walked outside and entered the woods. This night had changed things; the usual butterflies I felt in his presence had tripled in size. My skin felt like it glowed when he looked at me, like I was the only girl in the whole world, and when he took my hand and his thumb ran up the side of my wrist I thought of one thing alone: I could not lose him. Not now. Not ever.
I wanted him to say something, anything, but he seemed to be waiting for me to do the same.
The sky was still dark, and the soft ground was blanketed with a wispy, gray mist. As the woods grew denser, I took the lead, having known the way to the cemetery. I started talking about Rebecca’s rehab with Dr. DeWitt, searching for something to fill the silence, and when he didn’t make a sound I glanced back to make sure he was still following.
His brows were drawn, his expression serious, and something small and silver flashed between his thumb and first finger.
I stopped. He nearly bumped into me, pulling up at the last minute. Chase Jennings was many things, but never distracted.
“Whatcha got there?” I asked. I knew what it was. His mother’s ring. He kept it in his pocket. It was all he had left from the time before, and he carried it for luck, the same way I still wore the Saint Michael pendant on the chain around my neck.
I would have been lying if I said I didn’t sometimes wonder what it would look like on my hand.
Slowly, his gaze traveled from his hand to my eyes, and my breath caught.
He swallowed.
A hundred thoughts crossed paths in my head, but before I could make any sense of them, someone approached from the shed. The dry leaves crackled beneath his boots.
“Who’s there?” Billy’s voice came through the trees.
Chase stuffed his hand back into his pocket. He had a panicked look on his face, like the time my mom caught him sneaking out my window after midnight, and I couldn’t help but giggle. When he returned a shy grin, my heart tripped in my chest.
“It’s me, Billy,” I called. “It’s Ember.” It took a moment to tear my gaze away from Chase’s.
We went to meet him. The woods thinned, revealing the neat rows of wooden crosses and the shed to our left. There was something wrong about that building, something creepy. I shivered. It reminded me of where they brought the girls who acted out at reform school.
Billy’s steps had quickened when he recognized my voice, but when he came closer I could see he held a rifle against his chest like a shield.
“You guys aren’t supposed to be out here,” he said.
“What are you doing out here?” asked Chase, looking around.
He hesitated. “Keeping watch.”
“Over what?” Chase asked.
Billy moved the gun over his shoulder, adjusting the strap across his chest. “Did you follow me or something?”
I took another step forward and Billy retreated into the shadows. It wasn’t too late to see his eyes were red and swollen.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, fear tightening my chest. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer right away. “You don’t have to keep worrying about me.” But his voice wasn’t as abrasive as it had been in the past.
“You’re my friend,” I said.
He picked at the weapon strap, keeping his eyes downcast.
“I gotta get out of here,” he said. “If I could get on the mainframe, I could find out who Reinhardt’s got in Charlotte.”
Of course Billy would think Wallace was one of Chancellor Reinhardt’s prisoners. He still thought his adopted father had survived the fire in Knoxville.
Another set of footsteps came from the shed, and this time DeWitt emerged through the trees. He didn’t come toward us though; he made for the center of the cemetery, where he was joined by four other people coming from the road. A pear-shaped woman I recognized as Ms. Rita. A man with red hair—Van Pelt—and Panda, from the kitchen. Patch was there as well, a little behind the others, but ramrod straight. The entire council was here.
Will was wrong; Jesse was nowhere in sight. It hadn’t made sense that he and DeWitt would be together anyway.
Billy lowered his head and hurried back to guard the door. I watched him go, wishing there was something I could do to help him.
Silently, Chase and I went to hear what the council had decided.
Dawn was coming, and though I rubbed my arms the chill would not leave my skin. I couldn’t help but feel like something bad had happened, or was going to happen, but that couldn’t be. No one was morbid enough to tell you bad news when you were standing among the dead.
When we reached them, I saw that DeWitt carried something under his arm. A stack of folded clothing—the navy jacket I’d recognize anywhere, and a long blue skirt made up the top and bottom. My eyes lowered to the two guns tucked in the front of his waistband.
“The printing plant in Greeneville is a minimum security facility, with just a skeleton staff after hours. Because of that we’re only sending a small team.” DeWitt passed Chase the clothing. “You’re sure your contacts there will recognize you?”
“Yes,” we both said. The thought of seeing Marco and Polo, the two soldiers who’d helped refugees make it to the safe house, lightened my mood. The last time I’d seen them, they’d let us steal an FBR cruiser so we could go back to Louisville.
“You’ll have the staff reformat the Statutes to what the council has discussed, then deliver them to several key posts. Let them know that despite the fall of the safe house, Three still stands. Deliver the Statutes. And tell them we will be seeking vengeance for good lives lost.” He paused as if he needed to catch his breath. “The carriers should be able to spread the word from there. Let them know our timetable. We need as many bodies on board before Charlotte as we can get.”