The Retribution of Mara Dyer (Mara Dyer, #3)(72)

The owner of the voice was a twentysomething girl with gauges in her ears, a hoop in her nose, and a bushel of wild, curly hair. She held a book with a leafy green tree on the cover, title obscured, and a cell phone in the other. “Who is Mara Dyer?”

I felt Daniel’s and Jamie’s eyes boring into each side of my face. The stale air seemed to press in on me, slowing my thoughts. “Uh, me?” I said, before Jamie shushed me.

Everyone in the car stared as Curly Girl walked over to me and handed me her phone. “Someone’s texting you.”

“I don’t know you,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

“And I don’t know you. But the person texting me doesn’t seem to care.” She gestured with the phone. “See for yourself.”

I tried to, but realized that my arms were in the iron grips of my brother and Jamie.

“This is bad news,” Daniel said. “Bad news.”

I shook them off and took the phone from the girl.

I HAVE WHAT YOU WANT.

Below that was a picture of Noah. I couldn’t see where he was and didn’t know what he was doing; it was just a close-up of his face. But it was Noah to the life. And there was a newspaper next to him with today’s date.

“Can I have my phone back now?” Curly Girl asked. I ignored her.

“Ask who it is,” Jamie said.

“Like he’s going to answer?” Daniel replied.

“How do you know it’s a he?” Jamie asked.

Daniel rolled his eyes. “It’s a he.”

Who is this, I texted back. A few seconds later, the girl’s phone pinged again.

DOES IT MATTER? OPEN THE DOOR BETWEEN CARS AND GET OUT. LEAVE YOUR BROTHER AND FRIEND BEHIND SO THEY DON’T GET HURT.

“Trap,” Daniel and Jamie said simultaneously.

“Hey,” Curly Girl said, clearly annoyed now. “My phone?”

Jamie looked at her and said, “This isn’t your phone.” Her forehead creased and her eyes glazed over. “You dropped your phone on the tracks.”

“I dropped it?” Her voice wavered as she looked back and forth between Jamie and the phone in my hands.

“Yes. Run along now.” Jamie gestured at her. “Shoo.”

When she walked away, I stood up.

“Oh, come on, Mara,” Jamie said.

Daniel was shaking his head as he spoke. “You’re not going out there.”

“Of course I’m going out there.” More static from the speaker, but no lights and no movement still. Daniel and Jamie were right. Obviously right. And I was in no frame of mind to process the picture other than to seize it as proof that Noah was, in fact, alive. I had to make sure he stayed that way. I had to make sure Daniel and Jamie stayed that way too.

“Sister, I love you, and I would do anything for you, but I really do not want to creep around in the bowels of the New York City transit system for you. Please do not make me.”

“Not only am I not making you,” I said as I reached for the handle of the door between the cars. “I’m not going to let you.”

“You’re not going to stop me,” Daniel said.

Jamie bent over. If he’d had hair, he’d have been pulling it. “Damn it, Mara. We’ve been here before.”

I opened the door and stepped out into the darkness. “True,” I said. “And I was fine before.”

“I suppose that depends on your definition of ‘fine.’?”

“Look,” I said to Daniel and Jamie, “what’s the most terrifying thing you can think of in these tunnels? Rats? Mole people?”

“Evil mastermind hell bent on killing you?” Jamie suggested.

“Wrong. The most terrifying thing in these tunnels is me.” I shut the door on both of them and jumped onto the tracks.

The girl’s cell phone buzzed in my hand.

WALK TOWARD THE END OF THE TRAIN UNTIL YOU PASS IT. GO TO THE THIRD NICHE WITH A DOOR.

The curved walls seemed to stretch into infinity, but I started walking, following a miniature creek between the tracks that was choked with garbage. Air ruffled papers taped to the graffitied, wet-looking walls. My pulse began to race as I neared the end of the train, but not from fear. I believed what I’d told my brother and Jamie. I believed in myself. I would find Noah, and I would punish whoever had taken him from me.

I passed the first niche, and then the second. But before I came to the third, I heard my name shouted behind me.

“Mara?” Daniel’s voice echoed in the tunnel. Panic seized me.

“Wherefore art thou, Mara Dyer?” Jamie’s voice this time.

“That means ‘why’, not ‘where,’?” I heard my brother say. “Just saying.”

“Go back!” I yelled automatically, then cursed myself. Not for giving away my position to my mystery texter but for giving it away to my brother. Marco Polo used to be his favorite game.

Daniel yelled, “No chance! I’m your big brother. It’s my job to protect you.”

And then a shadow peeled itself from the wall, forming the outline of someone I knew, of the person I’d expected ever since I’d seen that first text. Ever since I’d heard the girl on the subway say my name, really.

“Don’t hurt them,” I said to Jude, and I meant it. “Please.”