The Host (The Host #1)(172)

Or something they felt was urgent. Necessary.

Had Doc and Jeb been taking advantage of my absence?

Jeb had only agreed to stop slaughtering people and souls while I was under the same roof. Was this their compromise?

“You okay?” Jared asked.

My throat was too thick to answer. I shook my head. Tears streamed down my cheeks and fell from my chin to my lap.

“Maybe I’d better drive.”

I shook my head again. I could see well enough.

He didn’t argue with me.

I was still crying silently when we got to the little mountain that hid our vast cave system. It was actually just a hill—an insignificant outcropping of volcanic rock, like so many others, sparsely decorated with spindly creosote and flat-bladed prickly pears. The thousands of tiny vents were invisible, lost in the jumble of loose purple rocks. Somewhere, smoke would be rising, black on black.

I got out of the van and leaned against the door, wiping my eyes. Jared came to stand beside me. He hesitated, then put a hand on my shoulder.

“Sorry. I didn’t know they were planning this. I had no idea. They shouldn’t have…”

But he only thought that because they’d somehow gotten caught.

The moving truck rumbled to a stop behind us. Two doors slammed shut, and then feet were running toward us.

“What happened?” Kyle demanded, there first.

Ian was right behind him. He took one look at my expression, at the tears still running down my cheeks, at Jared’s hand on my shoulder, and then rushed forward and threw his arms around me. He pulled me into his chest. I didn’t know why this made me cry harder. I clung to him while my tears leaked onto his shirt.

“It’s okay. You did great. It’s over.”

“Seeker’s not the problem, Ian,” Jared said, voice strained, his hand still touching me, though he had to lean forward to preserve that point of contact.

“Huh?”

“They were watching the road for a reason. Sounds like Doc’s been… working in our absence.”

I shuddered, and for a moment, it seemed like I could taste silver blood in the back of my throat.

“Why, those —!” Ian’s fury robbed him of speech. He couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Nice,” Kyle said in a disgusted tone. “Idiots. We’re gone for a few weeks, and they’ve got the Seekers on patrol. They could have just asked us to —”

“Shut up, Kyle,” Jared said harshly. “That’s neither here nor there at the moment. We’ve got to get this all unloaded fast. Who knows how many are watching for us? Let’s grab a load and then get some more hands.”

I shook Ian off so that I could help. The tears did not stop running. Ian stayed close to my side, taking the heavy flat of canned soup I picked up and replacing it with a big but light box of pasta.

We started down the steep pathway in, Jared leading. The utter blackness did not bother me. I still didn’t know this path well, but it wasn’t difficult. Straight down, then straight up.

We were halfway there when a familiar voice called out from a distance. It echoed down the tunnel, fracturing.

“They’re back… ack… back!” Jamie was shouting.

I tried to dry my tears on my shoulder, but I couldn’t get them all.

A blue light approached, bouncing as the carrier ran. Then Jamie bounded into view.

His face threw me.

I was trying to compose myself to greet him, assuming he would be joyful and not wanting to upset him. But Jamie was already upset. His face was white and tense, his eyes rimmed in red. His dirty cheeks had rivulets through the dust there, tracks made by tears.

“Jamie?” Jared and I said together, dropping our boxes to the floor.

Jamie ran straight for me and threw his arms around my waist.

“Oh, Wanda! Oh, Jared!” he sobbed. “Wes is dead! He’s dead! The Seeker killed him!”

CHAPTER 49

Interrogated

I killed Wes.

My hands, scratched and bruised and painted with purple dust in the course of the frantic unloading, might as well have been painted red with his blood.

Wes was dead, and it was as much my fault as if I’d pulled the trigger myself.

All of us but five were gathered in the kitchen now that the truck was unloaded, eating some of the perishables we’d picked up on the final shopping trip—cheese and fresh bread with milk—and listening to Jeb and Doc as they explained everything to Jared, Ian, and Kyle.

I sat a little space away from the others, my head in my hands, too numb with grief and guilt to ask questions the way they did. Jamie sat with me. He patted my back now and then.

Wes was already buried in the dark grotto beside Walter. He had died four days ago, the night that Jared and Ian and I had sat watching the family in the park. I would never see my friend again, never hear his voice…

Tears splashed on the stone beneath me, and Jamie’s pats increased in tempo.

Andy and Paige were not here.

They’d driven the truck and the van back to their hiding places. They would take the jeep from there to its usual rough garage, and then they’d have to walk the rest of the way home. They would be back before sunrise.

Lily was not here.

“She’s not… doing so well,” Jamie had murmured when he’d caught me scanning the room for her. I didn’t want to know any more. I could imagine well enough.