Hunted (13 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Rainfield

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Hunted
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Cheryl Rainfield

killing, or slavery, or abuse. Now step aside, Daniel. Let
me get Alex out before he suffocates.”
Daniel’s eyes narrow. Hot jealousy rushes through him.
“You think it’s that easy? You think you can just save
your boy and walk away?”

“I think we should be on the same side.”
Daniel smiles thinly.
“That’s up to you.”

“Caitlyn—you still there?”
Alex’s voice is louder, reverberating inside my head, making it hard to think.

Another flash. Breath rasping in throat, dirty sock stuffed in mouth, head dizzy, sweating.

“How sweet. You’ve let a Normal into your secret. Now
he holds your life in his hands.”
I ignore Daniel.
“Still here, Alex. Try to breathe
slowly.”

Daniel pushes up off the locker and turns to face me, his eyes hard as iron, his teeth bared in a half smile. “Get out of here, Cait, before something happens to you.”
“Before I make it happen.”

He’s not bluffing.

I take a step forward, then another. Will his own technique work on him?

I reach for Daniel’s thoughts.
“I don’t want to hurt
them,”
I send, trying to match his thought patterns, to make them vibrate with rage and pain the way his own mind-voice does. Trying to weave the thought into his own.
“I’m
going to walk away.”

I’m doing something I never thought I’d do. But I can’t let Alex die.

Daniel half turns away, then swings back to face me.

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A door snaps open in the hall, and Mr. Arnold frowns at us. “What are you doing out here? Get to your classes.” I take a shuddering breath. “I can’t, sir. Someone’s in trouble.”

Mr. Arnold frowns deeper, then steps out into the hall and closes the door behind him. Faces appear at the small window in the door, pressing up against the glass like captive fish staring out of their tank.

“Later,” Daniel mouths at me, then saunters away.

“Where do you think you’re going, young man?”

“To class,” Daniel says, not bothering to stop.

Mr. Arnold points his finger at Daniel, then lets it drop.

He turns to me, the lines deepening around his thin mouth.

“Now then, Miss Ellis, what’s all this about? I hope you’re not playing some kind of prank.”

“No, sir.” I’ve slowly been inching my way down the hall, pulled toward the dizzy, suffocating feeling, toward Alex’s voice. I’m close to where Daniel was standing. The dizziness is so strong it’s hard to stand, but it’s not right, not yet. I take another step, then another, light bouncing off the floors, harsh and bright. “There’s someone stuffed inside one of these lockers.”

I don’t know why it helps me to reach out with my hand when what I hear and sense are in my head, but it does.

“If you’re trying to be funny . . .” Two more steps, another locker, Alex’s voice filling me now, pressing at me from all sides, the dizzy, suffocating feeling a constant. My hand shakes as I press it against the 167

Cheryl Rainfield

cold yellow metal. “Right here. Please, can’t you help him?”

I tug on the lock, but I know it won’t open before I try.

I pound on the metal door, feel it shudder. “Can you hear me?”

Another classroom door opens, and a cross-looking woman sticks her head out. “What’s going on?”

“This girl seems to think that someone’s stuffed inside one of our lockers,” Mr. Arnold says, like he’s humoring me.

There’s a muffled thump, then a banging sound. We all jump.

“What was that?” Mr. Arnold tugs on his nose.

“I told you, someone’s trapped in there,” I say, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice. “It sounds like he’s having trouble breathing. Can you get him out?” Mr. Arnold turns toward his classroom, and the student faces vanish from the window. “I’ll call the janitor.” 168

CHAPTER 16

The janitor rams the blades of his metal cutter into the lock and pushes down hard, grunting.

The lock clatters to the floor.

Mr. Arnold yanks open the locker—and Alex drops out, hitting the floor hard, a sock stuffed in his mouth, his hands tied behind his back. He rolls over on his side. His eyes flutter, lashes like tiny dark wings.

“Alex!” I cry.

“You all right, son?” Mr. Arnold kneels down and yanks the sock out of Alex’s mouth. “Who did this to you?” Alex gasps for air. “Didn’t see . . .” His eyes find mine.
“Caitlyn, thank you . . . and god,
I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

I feel him in my mind, sweet and warm, our connection deeper than ever. It’s going to be all right. He won’t turn me in. Will he?

Alex’s eyes flicker, roll back in their sockets, and his head falls back, his skin bleaching lighter.

169

Cheryl Rainfield

“Alex!” I reach for him, but his thoughts are wrapped in cotton, pillow thick.

“He’s fainted.” Mr. Arnold pulls out a cell phone from his vest pocket, flipping it open. “Is the nurse in today?” he barks. “Good, send her up immediately. We have a situa-tion.” Students are pushing out the classroom door like soda from a can, eager and horrified.

Mr. Arnold turns back to me, his shoulders rigid. “And you—get yourself down to the principal’s office!”

“What for? I didn’t do anything.”

The class stands behind me, their thoughts rushing at me like hail.
. . . How did she…? . . . gotta text this . . .

Mr. Arnold glares over his glasses at them. “Get back to class.
Now.
Lisa, you’re in charge.” He waits until they straggle away. “How did you know Alex was in there?” he asks me grimly.

I raise my head. “I heard him.”

“You heard him—with a sock stuffed in his mouth?

Come on, you’ll have to do better than that.”
. . . She must
have seen who did this . . .

“I heard him, too,” Rachel says.

Mr. Arnold harrumphs.

“Alex is unconscious,” I say. “Shouldn’t we be doing something—sir?”

Mr. Arnold stiffens. “The nurse will examine him. And you will take this matter up with the principal—both of you.

Now get going.”

I start down the hall, my legs heavy like I’m pushing through sludge, Rachel walking silently beside me. I want 170

HUNTED

to stay with Alex, make sure he’s all right—but that would draw too much attention. What is it about Alex that makes me lose my caution? That makes me forget how to protect myself?

I push open the door and start down the stairs.

Rachel hasn’t said a word, though fear shivers through her. I look at her pale face. “Thank you.”

“Why would anyone do that to him? Alex is harmless.

Everyone likes him.”

I bite down on my lip so hard I taste salty blood. It sounds too narcissistic to say that it happened because of me, so I don’t say anything.

But maybe no one’s safe around me—not so long as Daniel’s here.

e

Mr. Temple looks at me unblinkingly, his eyes stony.

His office chair is at least five inches higher than the visitor’s chair I’m sitting in, making him look more imposing, which I’m sure is exactly what he wants.

I force myself to relax. There’s something about Mr.

Temple that isn’t right. I can’t read anything off him, anything at all—but he’s not a Para. I’d know if he was, especially one strong enough to block me, the way Daniel has.

I don’t know how he’s doing it. I don’t know what it means.

“Can you describe what you heard, Ms. Ellis?” I clear my throat. “A thump, and a muffled, strangled noise.” Close enough to the truth to sound right.

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Cheryl Rainfield

Mr. Temple leans back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head. His scab-colored tie leans off to one side.

“Mr. Arnold said you knew there was a boy jammed in the locker. Not just a student, but a boy in particular. Care to explain how you knew that?”

He knows.

“I just assumed it was a boy. It’s the kind of thing boys do to boys. The things girls do to each other are different.” Mr. Temple nods, as if he’s considering what I said.

“And how did you know that Alex was having trouble breathing?” He leans forward. “There’s no way you could have known he had a sock stuffed in his mouth.” He jabs his finger at me. “Not unless you saw it happen—in person, or in your mind.”

Cold sweat rolls down my sides. “Mr. Temple, are you accusing me of being a Para?” I put all the disgust I can into my voice. “If you are, let’s get the ParaTrooper in here.

I’ve got nothing to hide. If not, I’d like to go back to class.” I can’t believe I just said that. I run my tongue over my dry lips. But if he’s as Para-hating as people say he is, then he’s probably already accused two Normals in his quest to rid his school of Paras. Maybe he doesn’t want to risk the huge fine and mark on his record that comes from accusing three “innocent” Normals.

I stare at Mr. Temple. His face is expressionless, but his Adam’s apple is bobbing up and down. I think I must be right.

Mr. Temple clears his throat. “Sure you don’t want to tell me who did this?”

“How could I know? I didn’t see it happen.” 172

HUNTED

Mr. Temple leans back so far it looks like he’s going to tip right over. I wish he would. “All right, then.” I get a flash of sadness and rage, tinged with a metallic scent.

Daniel’s been here. He’s talked with the principal, influenced him somehow.

Mr. Temple presses his hands against his desk and stands, his chair squeaking. “We’re done here. But Caitlyn—I’m watching you.”

I swallow noisily. “You’re
watching
me?”

“I know you have a . . . talent, and I’m going to get proof.”

My heart feels like it’s going to pound right out through my rib cage. I can’t let Mr. Temple turn me in. I stare at him, focusing all my energy.
“Forget.”
He blinks and scratches his head, like he can’t remember what he was saying.

My god. What did I do?

We stare at each other.

Mr. Temple rubs his forehead. “What was I—? Never mind. You can tell Rachel Levy to come in now.” I sprint out of his office.

173

CHAPTER 17

Rachel’s sitting needle-straight in one of the plastic chairs lined up against the wall, her thin fingers picking at the skin on her elbow, her foot jerking up and down. I walk over, try to look calm. “He’ll see you now.”

“I’ll just stick to the story—we heard him banging,
right?”
Rachel thinks at me as she stands.

“Yes. Thanks.”

There’s a ParaWatch pamphlet pinned to the bulletin board behind her. I look past it, as if it means nothing.

The secretary watches us over her glasses, her thin lips pressed tightly together.
. . . teenagers these days . . . what
I have to put up with . . . no appreciation . . .

Rachel touches my arm. “Don’t worry; it’ll be all right.”

I’m cold and shaky, but I manage to smile. Then she’s in the office with Mr. Temple, the door shutting behind her.

The secretary’s still watching me.

I smile prettily at her. “Thank you for your help.” She gawks at me like I just told her what color bra I’m wearing. I suppress a smile, but it’s gone just as fast.

174

HUNTED

I clench my backpack as I stride down the empty hall.

I don’t want it to happen all over again. The running. The accusations. The beatings and murders. But the fear and hatred—and the accusations—are gaining strength. There might just be another riot, another Cleansing. God, I hope I’m wrong.

I close my eyes. I can already see Mom sucking the worry up inside her so strong that it devours her from the inside, making the lines in her face deeper, her smile more brittle. I don’t know if she can survive another series of riots and Para-murders.

Anger pricks like hot needles at my scalp. “You blow me away,” a voice says.

I snap my eyes open. Daniel’s standing there, sneering.

“What?”

“You just go running to protect your little Normal friends, though they’d never protect you.” My throat closes inward.

Daniel steps closer. “You’re a Normal-lover, Cait.” He says the word like it’s a stinking pile of feces. “You want to be accepted by them, be like them. But you’ll never be one of them. And they’ll hate you for it.” I clear my throat, a sandpapery stutter. “They’re not all bad.” And we’re not all good.

Daniel laughs harshly. “It only takes one Normal hating us to make things worse.”

I step around him, as if I can’t feel his anger.
“Don’t do
this, Daniel. Don’t turn people against each other more
than they already are.”

175

Cheryl Rainfield

“Too late. We’re already there.”

“No, we’re not. We can help Normals accept us; we
just have to go about it the right way.”

“When are you going to wake up, Caitlyn? The world’s
full of hate.”
He shakes his head.
“You’re not stupid. I don’t
understand why you’re opposing me.”
Because I’m human? Because I care? I push the thoughts down hard.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you...see you in class,”
he sends ominously. Daniel closes his mind to me and walks off without looking back.

I shake myself and walk the other way.

A door at the end of the hall grates open, and a tall, thin boy stumbles into the hall, a woman supporting him.

Alex.

My breath flutters in my throat like a trapped butterfly.

Alex’s head snaps up, his gaze meeting mine.
“Caitlyn!”

I feel happy and sick, all at the same time.

“I don’t trust some high school nurse,” the woman is saying. “You’re going to let Dr. Matthews check you over.

And if—and only if—he says you’re okay, are you coming back here.”

Alex nods, but he’s not really listening. All his attention is focused on me.
“Caitlyn, I’m sorry I was such an
ass.”

“You just believed the propaganda. But you came
around pretty fast. I was proud of you.”
Alex snorts.
“Well, thanks. But you’re the amazing
176

HUNTED

one—getting that close to me when I was spewing all that
crap.”

“That’s over now. I know”
—I hesitate—
“I
think
you’re on my side. . . .”

“Of course I am!”
Alex and the woman—it must be his mother—are almost level with me.

“Good. But Alex, I have to know—are you going to
turn me in?”

“God, no! What do you take me for?”

“Believing in Para-rights is one thing. Meeting a real
live Para is another.”

“You can count on me to protect your secret, I promise. I will never betray you.”

Relief floods me like a drug, smoothing all the tension away.

“I’m sorry for every stupid thing I said before. Forgive
me?”

I can feel how much he means it. I want to laugh at the rightness of the moment.
“Yes!”
God, yes. Happiness warms me like the sun.

And then I feel the stiffness in his body, the soreness and bruising, the pain that’s still in his lungs.
“Alex!”

“I’m all right. Really.”
He grimaces.

This close, Alex’s skin looks soft and smooth, marred only by the darkened swelling around his cheekbones and nose.

Alex’s springy black curls lie enticingly against his forehead. I want to reach out and touch his face, but I don’t dare do it, not with his mother here.

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Cheryl Rainfield

I feel him laugh.

My face burns. I can’t believe I projected my thoughts.

I have to get a grip.

Alex’s eyes are so intense, it’s as if I’m the only one that exists for him. I used to feel that way with my dad, and with Daniel, too. Pain tears through my chest.

I wrench my gaze away from Alex’s. I don’t know Daniel anymore. For him to have done this to Alex, just to get to me. . . .

Alex grips my arm.
“You know who did this? Wait, do
you think he wants to hurt you?”
The warmth of his fingers seeps through my sleeve.

I jerk my arm away, my breath shaky. I have to shield my thoughts more.
“I can’t tell you. Don’t try to find out,
Alex. It’s too risky for you.”

“No.
Not
finding out is what’s risky. Let me help.”

“This is the girl who found me, Mom,” Alex says loudly.
. . . the girl I’m falling for . . .

I want to laugh, to shout with the joy of it. Alex really likes me! Even knowing what I am.
Who
I am.

The woman smiles at me, her teeth almost as white as the pearls around her neck. “Thank you for saving my boy.

I’m in your debt.”

“Mo-om.” Alex’s cheeks darken. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“She’s not always like this—I swear.”

“I like her. She loves you a lot, you know.”

“I know.”

His mother clasps my hand before I can back away.

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Her hand is gentle, her ring finger ringless. “You’re welcome at our home anytime.”
. . . thank god she found him

. . . seem to really like each other . . .

I reach up to brush my hair from my face, breaking contact. “Thank you. It was nice meeting you, but I’ve gotta get to class.” I look at Alex. I want to hold him, know he’s okay. “See you later.”

“See ya.”

I walk down the hall, then sneak a peek over my shoulder. Alex and his mom wave.

I laugh and wave back.

It could work out between Alex and me, if we’re careful. If Daniel doesn’t mess everything up.

179

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