The Host (The Host #1)(114)

“Wanda?” Doc asked.

I just shook my head, not able to answer.

“I think you’ve been here too long,” he said. I felt his hand, light and warm, on my shoulder. “You should take a break.”

I shook my head again, still keening softly.

“You’re worn out,” he said. “Go clean up, stretch your legs. Eat something.”

I glared up at him. “Will Walter be here when I get back?” I mumbled through my tears.

His eyes tightened anxiously. “Do you want that?”

“I’d like a chance to say goodbye. He’s my friend.”

He patted my arm. “I know, Wanda, I know. Me, too. I’m in no hurry. You get some air and then come back. Walter will be sleeping for a while.”

I read his worn face, and I believed the sincerity there.

I nodded and carefully put Walter’s head back on the pillow. Maybe if I got away from this place for a little bit, I’d find a way to handle this. I wasn’t sure how—I had no experience with real goodbyes.

Because I was in love with him, no matter that it was unwilling, I had to look at Jared before I left. Mel wanted this, too, but wished that she could somehow exclude me from the process.

He was staring at me. I had a feeling his eyes had been on me for a long time. His face was carefully composed, but there was surprise and suspicion in there again. It made me tired. What would be the point of acting out a charade now, even if I were that talented a liar? Walter would never stand up for me again. I couldn’t sucker him anymore.

I met Jared’s gaze for one long second, then turned to hurry down the pitch-black corridor that was brighter than his expression.

CHAPTER 32

Ambushed

The caves were quiet; the sun had not yet risen. In the big plaza, the mirrors were a pale gray with the coming dawn.

My few clothes were still in Jamie and Jared’s room. I snuck in, glad that I knew where Jared was.

Jamie was sound asleep, curled into a tight ball in the top corner of the mattress. He didn’t usually sleep so compactly, but he had good reason to at the moment. Ian was sprawled across the rest of the space, his feet and hands hanging off the edges, one appendage to each of the four sides.

For some reason, this was hysterical to me. I had to put my fist in my mouth to choke back the laughter as I quickly snatched up my old dirt-dyed T-shirt and shorts. I hurried into the hall, still stifling the giggles.

You’re slaphappy, Melanie told me. You need some sleep.

I’ll sleep later. When… I couldn’t finish the thought. It sobered me instantaneously, and everything was quiet again.

I was still rushing as I headed for the bathing room. I trusted Doc, but… Maybe he would change his mind. Maybe Jared would argue against what I wanted. I couldn’t be all day.

I thought I heard something behind me when I reached the octopus-like juncture where all the sleeping halls met. I looked back, but I couldn’t see anyone in the dim cave. People were beginning to stir. Soon it would be time for breakfast and another day of work. If they’d finished with the stalks, the ground in the east fields would need to be turned. Maybe I would have time to help… later…

I followed the familiar path to the underground rivers, my mind in a million other places. I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything in particular. Every time I tried to focus on a subject—Walter, Jared, breakfast, chores, baths—some other thought would pull my head away in seconds. Melanie was right; I needed to sleep. She was just as muddled. Her thoughts all spun around Jared, but she could make nothing coherent of them, either.

I’d gotten used to the bathing room. The utter blackness of it didn’t bother me anymore. So many places were black here. Half my daylight hours were lived in darkness. And I’d been here too many times. There was never anything lurking under the water’s surface, waiting to pull me under.

I knew I didn’t have time to soak, though. Others would be up soon, and some people liked to start their day clean. I got to work, washing myself first, then moving on to my clothes. I scrubbed at my shirt fiercely, wishing I could scrub out my memory of the past two nights.

My hands were stinging when I was done, the dry cracks on my knuckles burning worst of all. I rinsed them in the water, but it made no noticeable difference. I sighed and climbed out to get dressed.

I’d left my dry clothes on the loose rocks in the back corner. I kicked a stone by accident, hard enough to hurt my bare foot, and it clattered loudly across the room, bouncing off the wall and landing with a plunk and a gurgle in the pool. The sound made me jump, though it wasn’t all that loud next to the roar of the hot river in the outer room.

I was just shoving my feet into my scruffy tennis shoes when my turn was up.

“Knock, knock,” a familiar voice called from the dark entry.

“Good morning, Ian,” I said. “I’m just done. Did you sleep well?”

“Ian’s still sleeping,” Ian’s voice answered. “I’m sure that won’t last forever, though, so we’d best get on with this.”

Splinters of ice pinned my joints in place. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

I’d noticed it before, and then forgotten it in the long weeks of Kyle’s absence: not only did Ian and his brother look very much alike, but—when Kyle spoke at a normal volume, which so rarely happened—they also had exactly the same voice.