One Was Lost(27)

My cheeks go hot, and I swipe them with my hands, feel those bark grooves again. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

He shrugs. “We’re wasted. I fell asleep with Jude watching my back.”

“Scary thought,” I say.

“Yeah,” he says with a laugh.

Out here, in the misty trees and cool predawn air, it’s easy to admit how much I like looking at him, at his hard face and sleepy eyes. Mom used to tell Dad it’s not a sin to look. Maybe she’s right on that one, but she did a hell of a lot more than look.

I pull my fingers through my shorter hair and remind myself that this is not the same. Lucas is not Charlie. I’m not breaking any vows looking at him, and I’m not falling head over heels or getting stupid. This isn’t going to hurt anyone.

But then he smiles, and I’m not so sure.





Chapter 11


Lucas walks me to the camp but then leaves me, claiming a need for a tree. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to find the food that brought the bears closer, but I don’t argue. I spot Emily first, just outside of our tent. She doesn’t ask where I’ve been, and I can tell by the rings under her eyes she didn’t have the most restful night.

“Did you hear the bear last night?” I guess.

“Yes. I’m glad you’re all right.”

“The bears spotted Lucas and me, so we backed out of camp. We thought we’d be less likely to piss them off.”

She nods and pushes her hair behind her ears. “I heard you guys leave. Thanks for zipping the tent closed for me.”

“That was Lucas.” I pause. Let it sink in before I go on. “Did you hear Mr. Walker?”

She nods slowly, lips thin. “I was excited at first. I thought he was coming to check on us. I almost opened the tent, but then I heard the bears again, so I stayed quiet.”

“I almost thought I’d imagined hearing him,” I say. “I heard him say ‘hello,’ but then the bears walked close to his tent. That’s when Lucas and I ran. The cub was getting close to us too.”

She shakes her head, lips downturned. “No.”

“No?”

“I heard all that, but I heard him after you left. He came outside.”

Something slithers in my belly. “Wait a minute. He came outside of his tent? Are you sure?”

“I heard his tent unzip. It was loud. As loud as ours was when you left. I thought I heard footsteps, so I figured it was him, but then the bears were sniffing all around.” She flushes, like she’s embarrassed to continue. “It freaked me out, so I didn’t leave. But his tent is zipped back up now, so he must have gone back to sleep.”

“Or maybe you just imagined it. Maybe it was the bears making noise.”

Her eyes lock onto mine. “I know what I heard.”

I can barely muster a nod before I’m back up on my feet and heading out of our tent. If Mr. Walker was awake enough to walk, he was awake enough to help. He’ll know what to do, how to get us out of here. I’m fizzy with hope as I make my way across our camp.

Jude opens his tent and sticks his head out. His eyes are squinty, and his hair is mashed on one side. “What’s going on?”

“There were bears in camp last night,” I say.

He startles and looks around, then scrubs a hand over his face. “I didn’t even hear them.”

I don’t answer. I just stop in front of Mr. Walker’s tent, listening to the quiet.

Jude is stretching, and birds are waking up in the trees. They chitter softly in the murky canopy. I clench my fists and swallow my fear.

“Mr. Walker?” I call out. No answer. I say his name again, louder.

By now, Jude is with me, brow arched. “Did you hit your head last night? Mr. Walker is in a coma, remember?”

My mouth thins to a hard line when I look at him. “He woke up last night. We heard him moving around and talking.”

“We? You mean Lucas and you?” He quirks his lips in a way that insinuates loads of filthy things.

My eyes narrow. “Everyone here but you, actually.”

His expression shifts at once, gaze drifting to Mr. Walker’s tent. He calls his name next, and I stare at the Deceptive on his arm. Well, I know one of his secrets. As cool and collected as he acts, Jude isn’t any different from the rest of us. He’s scared, and he wants the teacher back in charge. He wants someone else making the decisions.

I lean in and start tugging the zipper up to open the tent. It’s still dark inside, and the smell wafting out nearly knocks me over. Vomit. Jude backs away cursing, but I try to push that odor into a teeny-tiny corner of my mind. I have to wake Mr. Walker up. If he was awake last night, he can be awake again.

He’s in the corner, slumped over sideways, but he was conscious at some point. Long enough to pull on a black long-sleeved shirt and to be sick all over his sleeping bag. My eyes drift to another mostly empty bottle of water I know I didn’t leave inside this tent. It’s not one of the new water bottles. It’s like the old ones.

He was awake long enough to get drugged again too.

“The son of a bitch came back,” Jude says. “He was here again, wasn’t he? He did something to him.”

I cover my nose with my sleeve and ignore Jude, calling Mr. Walker’s name. I move close enough to nudge him. Nothing. His breathing seems fine, but when I prod at his neck, it’s hard to find his pulse. I’m not a doctor, and it’s dark in here, but I don’t think his color is good.