* * *

Conversation between the United States chief of staff and Dr. Louis Wainwright:

SWITZER: The camps are finished. The president is ordering them disbanded.

WAINWRIGHT: You can’t do that! Where will we put the carriers? Where will—

SWITZER: It’s not really your concern anymore. Congress is opening a special investigation into your research data behind HTS. And Wainwright . . . you might want to start polishing up your résumé.

TWENTY-THREE

THE COMPOUND IS STILL AND SILENT. EVERYONE sleeps. I don’t think about where I’m running—that there is nowhere to run—just that I have to get away from Caden.

He’s not like me. He’s not a carrier.

Everything inside me shudders. I press a hand to my stomach. It hurts to breathe.

“Davy! Davy!” I turn at the hiss of my name. Junie stands in the doorway of her room to my left, blinking like she’s surprised to see me.

Behind me, Caden bellows my name, and there’s a ring of panic to his voice that tempts me—makes me want to turn and run back into his arms like that’s where I belong. I can see him in my mind, struggling into his clothes, his movements fierce and desperate.

But not as desperate as me.

He’ll be out in the hall after me any second, and that terrifies me. The idea of coming face-to-face with him makes breathing even harder. To see him now, knowing he’s normal, he’s good . . . someone I shouldn’t even be in the same room with. God. I can’t do this. I can’t!

Junie follows my gaze. “You two have a fight?”

I nod. A fight? Yeah. You could call it that.

She steps back into her room. “C’mon. You can hide in here,” she offers with a small jerk of her head, her twin braids loose and unraveling over each shoulder.

I plunge into her room. She shuts the door. We press our ears to it, listening together. Moments later Caden’s feet charge down the hall, loudest the second they come flush with our door; then they grow faint as they recede.

He’s gone.

“Thanks.” I sigh, staring into Junie’s probing gaze so close to mine. She smiles slightly and moves away from the door.

“Want to talk about it?”

I rub the center of my forehead. Do I want to talk about what a fool I was to trust someone again? To let someone inside?

I open my mouth, then close it with a snap, feeling suddenly so very tired. Drained, depleted. What am I supposed to do? Tell her Caden’s secret? That he’s not like us? As betrayed as I feel, I can’t do that. I can’t reveal that about him. Because I still care enough about him to protect him.

“Must have been pretty bad for you to run out on him in the middle of the night.” She moves to the table and unscrews the cap on a water bottle, takes a long swig. “Especially ’cause we’re talking about Caden. I’ve seen him without his shirt.” Her eyes widen meaningfully. “It’s impressive, you know?”

Yeah. I know. “Well, I guess it’s been an all-around crappy day.” I move to the bed, ready to sink onto the bottom bunk and wait for morning.

And then leave. Take what supplies they’ll give me, a map—with a scout or not—and just go.

“Are you so surprised that you’ve had a crappy day?”

I stop and turn, looking at her curiously. Usually Junie is the upbeat one.

“I mean, do you think you’re immune to crappy days or something? You’re a carrier no one wants in a place full of carriers . . . that kind of sets you up for misery.”

I angle my head. “Excuse me?”

She fiddles with the electric lantern sitting on the table, making the room a little brighter. “Well, I guess Caden wants you. Or wanted? Which is it?” She arches a fine eyebrow, waiting, hoping I’ll elaborate more about why I ran out of his room. I compress my lips. At my silence, she laughs harshly, staring straight ahead as she brings the bottle back up to her lips for another drink. “He always had shit taste in women.”

I hold my hands out in the air, shaking my head at this girl I’m suddenly not sure I like anymore. “What are you talking about?”

“First Tabatha. Then you.”

The air rushes from my mouth as understanding sinks in. I take a step back until the back of my skull bumps against the top bunk, feeling sucker punched. “You’re in love with Caden.”

She snorts. “Ding, ding, ding! Give the girl a prize.” Her gaze swings to me. “I’m not the first girl. But I’ll be the last. Once he sees how good I am for him. How suited we are.”

She faces me fully. “I thought Tabatha was the problem. That if she wasn’t around, he’d be more willing to move on. But her body wasn’t even cold before he started looking at you. You wove some kind of spell over him.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’m leaving,” I whisper, my fingers digging into my palms. He’s yours, I start to say, but can’t. Even if he isn’t mine, I don’t want her to have him. Besides, he’s not some toy I can give away because I’m done playing with him. He’s Caden. And he’s better than all of us. Than everyone here. I don’t deserve him, but neither does she.

“You keep saying that.” Her lip curls up over her teeth. “Sorry if I don’t believe it. Tabatha told me she and Caden were finished, too, but that didn’t keep her from throwing herself at him every chance she got.”

I push away from the bunk. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” I cross the room for the door, but pain bursts through my head. I blink up at the ceiling, unsure what happened or how I even ended up on the floor.