Uninvited (Uninvited, #1)(80)

Caught off balance, I fall onto my side. Hard. My shoulder throbs. Wincing, I roll onto my back, wondering if I might have dislocated it. I don’t make it to my feet. I don’t have time to examine my shoulder. I don’t have time for anything.

Someone grabs my ankles and drags me off the trail and deeper into the woods. I open my mouth to scream, but another body is suddenly there. He slides his arms beneath my armpits, slamming one hand over my mouth. I’m mute. I bite down on salty fingers and am rewarded with a sharp cuff to the ear.

My vision blurs, graying for a moment. Dizziness swamps me. The world jerks and heaves as I’m carried. I blink, fighting past the light-headedness.

We squeeze through thick brush. Branches and leaves scratch at my arms. Suddenly, I’m unceremoniously dropped to the ground. I take the brunt of the fall on my hip and I cry out, certain a bruise will form there within an hour.

Swallowing my wince, I look up. Jackson stands over me, and I know true fear. Two boys I don’t know hover behind him—I’ve seen them, of course, but don’t remember their names. I’ve never spoken to them. Jackson probably appealed to their interests . . . torture, sadism. I don’t have to have done anything personally to them to make them want to hurt me. They’re carriers. There doesn’t have to be a reason for them to inflict pain on others.

Everything in me tenses, ready and alert for the first chance to break away.

I eye the three of them, trying to assess them. Jackson is fast. I’ve seen him sprint. I doubt I can get away from him, especially after already running for nearly an hour now. He’ll be on me in a flash. The lanky one beside Jackson doesn’t look necessarily intimidating. The third one is thickset, reminds me of Tully. He’s one of the few I outrun in the mornings.

Still, there are three of them. And one of me.

“That was easy enough,” the stocky one pants, his face glistening with sweat. Yeah. I could definitely outrun him.

“Not so tough now, huh?” Jackson rests his hands on his narrow hips and leans closer. “Where’s your boyfriend? He hardly ever lets you out of his sight.” Jackson smiles slowly. “It’s just us now.”

I swallow. My gaze flicks to each of them. I feel like prey crouching beneath them. Any moment, they’ll pounce and devour me. Simply because they can. It’s what predators do. Hunt and destroy.

“You think you’ll get away with this?” I ask.

“Who’s gonna find out it was us?” Jackson smiles. “And if they do, so what? The weak don’t make it in here.”

“Yeah.” The lanky one nods in agreement. “Like Tully. He’s out of here.”

“What are you talking about? He was here yesterday—”

“They came for him last night thanks to you and your boyfriend.” Jackson looks annoyed about this for a moment, but then he smiles again. “After we’re done with you, they’ll ship you out, too. Assuming there’s anything left of you.”

My stomach sinks. He’s right. If they don’t kill me right now, I’m gone from here.

Gone from Sean.

This realization hits me hard. I don’t want to lose Sean. To never see him again . . . It’s worse than the fear of ending up in a detention camp. It’s almost as bad as I felt when I pulled that trigger on the carrier. I shiver and Jackson’s smile deepens. I hate that he sees this weakness in me. That he’s getting to me. That I’m terrified.

I scan the crowd of trees, the thick brown-and-green tangle of brush, the outline of mountains rising in the distance. The foliage will only muffle my screams.

We move simultaneously. Jackson starts for me as I bolt. I take off. Laughter rings in my ears as he catches me and lifts me off my feet, his arms steel bands around me, trapping my arms.

He hugs me tightly, crushing me, squeezing my ribs and pushing the air from my lungs. A strangled cry escapes me.

“That’s right,” he goads. I feel his face nod alongside of mine, his hair brushing my cheek. “Scream.”

And that’s when I know it excites him. He gets off on my fear. My pain.

I arch my neck, straining from him. My gaze sweeps the sky. Leaves sway above. The two other guys call out encouragement.

I lower my head and bring it back up. I don’t make contact with his nose, but I hit him, knock him somewhere around the eye. He howls and his arms loosen around me. I drop, stagger to my feet, my hands briefly scraping the ground.

I don’t wait. I don’t look back. My feet pound the leaf-draped ground. I dodge limbs, bushes, trees. I run wildly, zigzagging. I’ve lost sense of my location, but I’m convinced I’ll hit the joggers’ trail or one of the buildings soon. The instructors aren’t going to let them brutalize me right out in the open. I just have to make it out of the woods.

The things they could do to me if they catch me race through my panicked thoughts. I run, keep moving, thrashing through the woods. Instinct drives me.

“Davy,” one of them calls nearby in a singsong voice.

I stop, drop low to the ground and freeze, every muscle in me locking tight. I listen, heart hammering a loud tempo in my ears. Crouched, I inch back, away from the sound of the voice. I don’t think to watch behind me.

One of the guys, the stocky one, shouts gleefully as his hands come down on my shoulders. “I got her! I got her! Jackson! Over here!”