The Treatment (The Program #2)(54)

Just when I think we’ll never get out of the woods alive, there’s a small clearing and then pavement. I’ve never been so happy to see civilization before.

Ahead of us is the back side of a gas station, and Dallas shouts with relief after she sees Cas there, bent over and breathing heavily. As we start toward him, a van pulls around the store, and another comes from the other side. The world seems to drop out from under me, and James and I turn back to run into the woods, but it’s too late. Through the leaves we can see the white of the jackets heading in our direction, and I wrap my arms around myself, choking on a cry.

“I’m so sorry, Sloane.” James breathes out. I shut my eyes against the grief, hearing the crunch of brush under heavy boots as the handlers get closer. Hearing Dallas screaming so loudly she begins to lose her voice. I know we have nowhere left to run.

I look up at James and reach to put my palm on his cheek.

Our world is falling apart, and all our dreams of normalcy were just that: Dreams. “I love you madly,” I whisper.

His tears run down over my hand, and I rub them away before he grabs me and pulls me into a fierce hug. “I’ll come for you,” he says into my ear. “I won’t let them erase you. Wait for me, Sloane.” His voice is choked off by his cries, and I see the movement behind him. Slowly, hoping this is all a nightmare, I step out of his arms and see Dallas, a handler twisting her own arms around her like a straitjacket. The doors of a van are open, and three other handlers are walking in our direction, two emerging from the woods. They seem to all be converging on us at once, like a nightmare I would have thought too awful to be real.

The passenger door of the van opens, and I’m so overwhelmed by the situation that it takes me a minute to realize who climbs out: Arthur Pritchard in a sharp navy suit. I have this sudden and crazy hope that this is all a plan to save us. I take a step toward him, ready to beg for our lives, when Roger walks out from the other side of the van. He actually laughs when he sees me, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. When Dallas sees him, she begins screaming—something manic and animalistic—once again.

I can’t believe Roger’s here. I can’t believe this is happening.

I back into James, and across the lot the doctor slides his hands into the pockets of his suit.

“I am sorry for this, Sloane,” he says sadly. His shiny shoes make a tapping noise on the pavement as he moves closer, keeping an eye on James.

James puts his arm in front of me, slowly backing us up, and then to the side as the handlers encircle us. We could try to fight our way out, but there are so many of them. How would that end? I look back to the woods, wondering if Realm is out there somewhere, if he can see us. If he’ll save us.

“I never meant to betray you, Sloane,” the doctor says. “But I had warned you about running. Ultimately, you put your trust in the wrong people.”

I’m too devastated to fully comprehend his words, and I hold tightly to James as he tries to keep us shielded. Dallas is struggling to free herself from her handler, yelling for Cas, but our friend is just standing alone, watching her helplessly.

“They’ve come for The Treatment, Sloane,” Arthur says.

“I’m so sorry.” Hurt crosses his features, and I can see his intention was never to harm us.

“Then why are you helping them?” I ask.

“I didn’t tell them you had The Treatment, ” he says, “even though I knew you did. They’ve been embedded with you this entire time. I told The Program I could help procure your surrender today.” He swallows hard, glancing back at Roger, who is just starting to focus on what the doctor is saying. “But really, I’m here to make sure you do what’s right.” James stills, and I feel my face go cold. “And what’s that, Arthur?” I ask.

“Don’t let them get their hands on The Treatment.” Arthur has barely gotten the words out before his entire body convulses, his yelp cut off by the vibration of the Taser wires shooting volts of electricity through his body. He drops to the ground, flopping like a fish, and I scream, horrified.

James grabs my arm and we start to run, but one of the handlers catches me around the waist and tears me away, lifting me off the ground as he backs me toward a van. There is so much screaming in all directions, and Arthur’s body looks lifeless, lying on the concrete in a heap. Cas is still standing there as two handlers wrestle James in the other direction, tearing us apart.

Before the handler holding me can set me down to properly restrain me, I kick him hard, sending myself headlong into the ground. My forehead ricochets off the cement, and for a moment I see stars. A warm rush of liquid travels down over my eye and I blink through it, wiping the blood away with my hand.

The handler is about to converge on me again. “Wait,” Cas calls out, surprising me. I’m half-dazed as I look up, seeing him slowly approach with his hands up in surrender.

“Run, Cas,” I say in a weak voice as my head spins. Now’s his chance to save himself.

Watching his approach, the handler steps back, giving me space. James is across the parking lot with a handler on each side of him, gaping in concern and terror. As Cas gets closer, he presses his lips together, looking absolutely miserable. “I’m so sorry, Sloane,” he says.

I wipe the blood out of my eye again and slowly sit up. I hitch in a breath as it hits me, and fresh tears start to stream down my cheeks. “No,” I say, when the crushing reality settles over me. “No, Cas.”