The Countdown (The Taking #3)(39)

“She . . . ?” I started, and then realized Willow was in the dark, literally. “Do you mean Natty and the others?”

Willow jumped to her feet and swayed slightly, looking like a drunken toddler. It took her legs a second to adjust as she flexed her wrists and her shoulders. “Natty and Eddie Ray,” she told me with an intensity that made it clear she had no idea what had happened just one floor above her.

I shook my head and said flatly, “Dead. All of ’em.”

“Is that what was happening up there?” She nodded at the ceiling. “I heard something. Did you at least question them first? Find out why she did this? What they wanted?”

“We were too late. They were like that when we got here,” Griffin answered. “What do you know? Did they tell you anything? Maybe you overheard something.”

Willow screwed up her face in concentration. “I didn’t. Nothing useful, at least that I know of. But Natty’s dead too, you’re sure?” Her eyes searched mine. When I nodded, she just shook her head. “Too bad. I would’ve liked a shot at her myself.” She frowned. “After I bailed camp I lost track of everyone, but I wanted to be careful not to draw attention to myself so I laid low . . . didn’t reach out to any other camps in case the No-Suchers were listening to chatter. I hitched rides, listened for word of anything interesting to see if I could pick up your trails, but nothing.” She stretched. “Then I heard about a group staying up at this place in Wyoming—kids, the locals called ’em. Apparently they weren’t too careful . . . stocked up on supplies in town. Made a lot of stupid mistakes. I waited, hoping to catch sight of one of them, and when I did I was shocked to lay eyes on Natty.”

“What did you say to her? Did you ask her about Thom?” Griffin interjected.

“’Course I did,” Willow said, making a face to let her know what a stupid question it was. “And she fed me this cock-and-bull story ’bout how Thom tricked her, and took her hostage as he left Blackwater, but how she’d escaped and found this new group of Returned and was up here, living with them.” She shook her head, raking her hand through her hair. “I f*cked up, Sim. I fell for her bullshit, all of it. When I got here, that bitch drugged me with something.” She rubbed the side of her neck. “Next thing I knew I was down here, and that SOB Eddie Ray was breathing down my neck.”

“What about Kyra?” I asked. “Did they tell you why they took her?”

Willow dropped her hand, her attention captured. “Kyra? What’s she got to do with all this?”

“They were holding her hostage too,” Griffin said.

“Were . . . ?” Willow stated as if this was news to her. “But not now?” Then her expression cleared and her face fell. “Aw, shit. Is she dead too?”

Griffin answered, “Not dead, but missing. We’re hoping to find her before it’s too late.”

“Then what are we still doing down here?” This was an accusation. The old Willow was ready for action.





TYLER


WE HAD IT—A LOCATION.

Jett refused to give us all the details—plausible deniability, he maintained. But if I had to guess he’d somehow hacked into NASA or some other space agency, and had used the reverse star chart to come up with the coordinates of a location here on Earth. Even better, it was in California.

The guy was a freaking miracle worker.

Now we just had to get there.

It was too far, and way too cramped, to make the 1,200-mile trip packed into two vehicles with eight people and a hyperactive dog. Or maybe it just felt that way.

Whatever the case, we stopped by Griffin’s temporary camp and dropped off Nancy and whoever else wanted to get out, which turned out to be Griffin’s two soldiers, who weren’t invested in finding Kyra the way the rest of us were. Ben made the poor guys promise to guard the dog with their lives and to feed her only the best rations. They agreed, but only after their eyes slid to Griffin for authorization.

Nancy howled and both men had to hold her back while our two vehicles rolled out of camp.

“She’s a dog,” Simon told me, the only thing he’d said to me in hours. “She licks her own butt. She’ll forget all about him in two seconds.”

Somehow, I doubted that. But I didn’t want to debate the Nancy-Ben relationship with Simon, either, so I dropped it.

Less than a day and we’d be there. And with any luck at all we’d find something—some shred of information that would lead us to Kyra. Because right now it was killing me not to know where she was. That I couldn’t pinpoint her location the way I had before—that beacon of light I’d sensed, leading me to her.

Simon didn’t seem to notice the part where we had no real plan. He just charged ahead like it would all work out, because Simon was like that—like a bull, never thinking, never planning, just bulldozing his way through life. Willow sat up front in the SUV, seeming no worse for the wear, even after being imprisoned down in that asylum, while Griffin sat in back with me.

I stared at the back of Willow’s head.

Everyone was so quick to accept her story, that of all the places in all the world, she just happened to cross paths with Natty in the middle of Wyoming. That Natty just happened to pull a fast one on her.

I wasn’t saying she was lying, I just wasn’t entirely convinced.