They’re speaking so low I have to read their lips to understand. It’s a good thing I’ve been proficient at that since kindergarten, eavesdropping on adults’ hushed conversations.
“There’s something wrong with him…”
“He’s notnormal… “
“We should put him in an institution…”
“Bob, I can’t do this anymore. I’m leaving.”
Those last words belonged to my mom, a refrain she frequently repeated before she ended up abandoning me in first grade.
Her other favorite words were, “I’m not going anywhere.Believe me.”
Empty words.
But my promise is far from empty as I silently direct it at Piper.
I’m going to protect you, Piper. I’m going to protect you.
The object of my promise is strictly oblivious, though, as she keeps her eyes glued to the far wall.
“Don’t move, soldiers,” says Campbell in a loud voice. “Cass, get everything ready. I’ll be back in a little while.”
She nods and they both head out, Campbell, through the door we’ve just entered. I spring up, my brain throbbing as I try to think up a plan to get Piper out of here. How the hell can I do that without anyone noticing?
Cass left by the door she’d walked through with Piper. Whichmeans, hopefully, that it leads to an exit. In any case, it feels like a better solution than trying to head back the way we came, with the likelihood we’ll cross paths with Tragen.
I jump forward, gluing my ear to the door, listening to Cass’s footsteps growing dimmer.
Meanwhile, the other soldiers are staring at me stupidly, following Campbell’s orders unthinkingly while only registering slight surprise that I’m not.
Apart from Finn Austen, who looks ready to commit bloody murder.
When Cass’s footsteps die down, I look around for Piper, preparing to grab her by the elbow and push her right out of Devil Tower, providing there’s an exit somewhere around. And if Cass tries to stand in the way, I’ll just—kill her.
I’ve never killed anyone before, and I never thought I would start with a girl who wasn’t Piper, but I’ll do just about anything to keep them from injecting her with whatever they’re planning to inject her with.
But the idiot object of my obsession is already on the other side of the room… rifling through a stack of papers Al Campbell must have left on his desk.
What the hell?
Before I can reach her, she’s pocketed a paper, and then she looks at me, grinning.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her grin at me since the first day of freshman year, moments before I dunked her head in the toilet.
But the next moment, her smile dies down as her eyes take me in. I guess she wasn’t grinning at me. She was grinning at the thought of the paper she’s slipped into her pocket.
I don’t care about that paper. I don’t care about her smile. All I care about is getting her out of here.
I grab her elbow and she gasps in surprise, the sound quickly turning into a whimper of pain as I squeeze her harder thanI probably need to. But before I can do much more, the door opens onto Cass again, holding a syringe.
She eyes us both in surprise.
In the moment it takes for my gaze to fall onto a potential weapon—a volumetric flask—and for my mind to form a plan, Piper manages to wriggle out of my hold.
“I’m feeling pretty tired, actually,” she lies to Cass. “I think I’ll go home.”
Cass stands in front of the door, her stance making it very clear that no one is leaving. But Piper, as usual, is oblivious.