“Kylie has decided to go tribal and will be leaving immediately.”
A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd.
“She will only take these four with her,” he shouted over the noise. “There will be no more requests to leave granted until our numbers are full. Is that understood?”
Silence.
“Is that understood?”
Chubs jumped beside me at the noises and shouts confirming that, yes, it was.
Clancy turned sharply on his heel without another word, heading back in the direction of the office. As soon as he reached the white building, the kids around us seemed to exhale the collective breath they had been holding, turning to each other with confused whispers.
“That was weird.”
“Why didn’t he give them bags, like he usually does?”
“He’s worried if our numbers get down too low, there won’t be enough people here to protect the camp.”
My eyes floated up toward the office until they fixed on Zu waving me over.
No gloves, I thought, watching her hand fall back to her side. Hopefully never again.
“Do you really have to leave now?” I asked when I reached where she and Liam were standing. The clusters of kids swarmed Kylie and the others, wishing them good luck and offering up blankets and bags of food.
Zu put on a brave smile, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Please be safe,” I told her.
The next note was for me and me alone. When all this is over, will you come find me? There’s something I want to tell you, but I don’t know how to say it yet.
My eyes traced every inch of her face. It was so different from the girl I had met only a few weeks ago. If she had changed this much in so little time, how could I even be sure I’d recognize her years down the line, after the dust of all this hell finally settled?
“Of course,” I whispered. “And I’ll miss you every day until then.”
Just before they stepped off the trail and into the untamed forest, Zu turned and gave us one last wave. Beside her, Hina did the same. Then, they were gone.
“She’ll be okay,” I said. “They’ll take care of her. She should be with her family. Her real one.”
“She should be with us.” Liam shook his head, his breath catching in his throat.
“Then maybe we should follow her.”
Liam and I turned back. Chubs was trailing behind us, his eyes hidden as the drooping sunlight caught his glasses.
“You know we can’t,” Liam said. “Not yet.”
“Why not?” Chubs advanced toward us, his voice losing all semblance of calm it held before. Feeling the curious eyes on us, I drew them both off the main path.
“Why not?” Chubs repeated. “Clearly we aren’t going to get the help we need to track down our parents or Jack’s. It’d be better for us to just go now, before anyone misses us. We could still catch up with her.”
“And do what?” Liam asked. He ran a frustrated hand through his already mussed up hair. “Wander around until we just so happen to stumble on them? Hope that we don’t get our asses caught and thrown back into camp? Chubs, it’s safe here. This is the place we’re supposed to be—we can do so much good from here.”
I saw, maybe even before Liam did, that this was the wrong thing to say. Warning alarms went off in my mind at the sight of Chubs’s nostrils flaring and his lips twisting with anger. I knew that whatever was about to leave Chubs’s mouth would not only be sharp, but cruel.
“I get it—I get it, Lee, okay?” Chubs shook his head. “You want to be the big hero again. You want everyone to adore you and believe in you and follow you.”
Liam tensed. “That’s not—” he began, angrily.
“Well, what about the kids who followed you before?” He slapped around the pocket of his trousers before pulling out a familiar folded piece of paper. Chubs’s grip on the letter nearly crushed it. “What about Jack, and Brian, and Andy, and all of them? They all followed you, too, but it’s easy to forget about them when they’re not around, isn’t it?”
“Chubs!” I said, stepping between them when Liam advanced, his right fist swinging up.
I’d never seen him look so perfectly furious before. A wave of crimson washing up from Liam’s throat to his face.
“Can’t you just admit you’re doing this to make yourself feel better, not to actually help anyone else?” Chubs demanded.
“You think…” Liam almost couldn’t get the words out. “You think they’re not in my head every goddamn second of every goddamn day? You think I could ever forget something like that?” Instead of hitting his friend, Liam hit himself, banging his fist against his forehead until I finally caught his arm. “Jesus Christ, Charles!” he said, his voice breaking.
“I just…” Chubs stalked past us, only to stop and turn back again. “I never believed you, you know,” he said, his voice shaking, “when you talked about us getting out of camp and getting home safely. That’s why I agreed to write my letter. I knew most of us wouldn’t make it, with you in charge.”
I stepped forward the same moment Liam did, holding my hands out in front of me to keep him from doing something I knew he would regret. I heard Chubs storm away behind me, heading back in the direction of our cabin. Liam tried to take another step forward, but I pressed back against his chest. Liam was breathing hard, his fists balled up at his sides.
“Let him go,” I said. “He just needs to blow off steam. Maybe you should think about doing the same.”
Liam looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he let out a frustrated grunt, spun on his heel, and started toward the nearby trees, in the exact opposite direction Chubs had taken. I leaned back against the trunk of the nearest tree and shut my eyes. My chest was too tight to do anything other than take in shallow, short breaths as I waited.
It was nearly dark by the time he emerged, rubbing his face. The skin on both hands was torn and bleeding from smashing them into something solid. His face was drawn in the twilight, as if the flush of anger had been ripped out of him and he’d been left with nothing more than gray sadness. I held out an arm to him as he came near, wrapping it around the solid warmth of his waist. His arm settled down over my shoulders and he pulled me close, pressing his face against my hair. I took in a deep breath of his comforting smell—wood smoke, grass, and leather.