The Rains (Untitled #1)(91)

Eve nodded. “What about Dr. Chatterjee? Is he okay with this?”

“Patrick talked to him. He said he can keep Ben under control until we get back.”

She pushed herself up and reached for me. I leaned into her, and we hugged, her arms extra tight around my neck.

“What if you don’t come back?” she whispered, her lips right at my ear.

I kissed her on the cheek and pulled away. Across the gym I could see Patrick and Alex waiting for me.

For some reason it struck me that it was Halloween, a time for ghosts and ghouls, sugar buzzes and scares. I thought about how much fun tonight should have been for an eight-year-old girl. And what it was instead.

I said, “Take care of JoJo.”





ENTRY 42

It was worse than we thought.

Two nights later, after a grueling journey, Alex, Patrick, and I found ourselves perched in the tree-studded hills above the cannery, gazing down at the compound with shock.

The factory had been repaired using the construction materials stacked around the area. The walls had been built out thicker and a security fence erected. The Hosts progressed with their grisly work on the assembly line, feeding bound children through the hatch in the factory wall to the Queen beyond.

But that wasn’t what was alarming.

What was alarming was the number of Drones patrolling the perimeter. After my raid to free Alex, they must’ve been called in from all over the area.

Or from somewhere else.

With the hunting rifle from the cabin snug in my hands, I crouch-walked backward, vanishing through a screen of foliage. On either side of me, Patrick and Alex eased back as well, melting into the underbrush.

We reconvened in a low clearing by an abandoned backhoe undercutter.

Thump. Squelch.

I’d hoped to take a shooting position at the tree line below, a football field’s distance from the Queen. But there was no way we could penetrate the new perimeter to get me that close. Not without a much bigger plan. We were outnumbered, overpowered, and outgunned. Alex ducked her head into her hands, made fists in her hair, and gave a low growl of frustration.

“With the new fences and the patrols, I’m not even gonna get close,” I said. “We’re looking at a four-hundred-yard shot now.”

“You got a bolt-action Ruger M77 Hawkeye in your hands,” Patrick said. “I’ve seen you hit smaller from farther.”

“Not with Drones patrolling around trying to kill me,” I said.

“We’ll create the diversion once you get off the shot,” he said. “Draw them after us like we talked about. You just get in as near as you can, take her out, and hunker down somewhere to hide out until it’s safe to move.”

We’d gone over the plan a dozen or so times in the past forty-eight hours. From a position much farther away, Patrick and Alex would make a lot of noise in the wake of the gunshot, broadcasting their position immediately while I tried to hide. The Drones would have much more ground to make up to get to them. At a certain point, Patrick and Alex would split, confusing the Drones even more.

Leaning the rifle against my leg, I slipped the nylon loops off my wrists and handed Alex my baling hooks. It felt like letting go of a part of myself.

Just me and the rifle now.

Patrick turned around so Alex could unzip the pack he was wearing and slide my hooks in. My own backpack held only food, water, my journal, and ammo. With all the crawling I had in front of me, it had to cling tight to my back, so I couldn’t take anything bulky.

Patrick pivoted to face us again. “We’ll reconvene at the cabin tomorrow.” He cleared his throat, and I could see in his face that he didn’t think there would be a tomorrow, any more than I did.

We shifted, avoiding eye contact. Before seeing the compound, we’d figured we were probably on a suicide mission. Seeing the number of Drones around the place had removed any doubt. Patrick had his shotgun, Alex the revolver, and of course I had the rifle. We’d never made the vow out loud—we never had to—but we all knew we’d never allow ourselves to be taken alive.

“Sure,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

Thump. Squelch.

Every delay cost another life. The pressure felt like something tangible, smashing in from all sides.

Patrick leaned back, his knees cracking, and hiked the pack higher on his shoulders. Alex stepped beside him.

Here’s where we parted ways. Them in one direction. Me another.

Like always.

Knowing that this was probably the last time we’d see each other, I swallowed back any bitterness. I hugged my brother. There was nothing more to say.

Then Alex reached for me.

Patrick started upslope, giving us a moment of privacy. She put her hands on my face and looked deep into my eyes. My thoughts tumbled, catching me in a white-water swirl. There was so much I wanted to tell her but nothing I could say.

She leaned forward and gave me a kiss at the corner of my lips.

“Good luck, Little Rain,” she said.

“Bye, Blanton.”

Her eyes watered, but she turned quickly away.

I watched as they vanished into the foliage, Alex hurrying to catch up to my brother, her hand swinging to find his. Their part of the mission—making themselves the target of the Drones’ wrath instead of me—was just as scary as mine, but I couldn’t help feel a sliver of envy that they’d be together right up until the end.