I’m hurt, Ezra. It all hurts.
I’ll fix you. I swear, I’ll make you well again.
I’m alive because of you,he thinks, and I don’t know what that means, and I don’t have time to ask because he’s screaming again.
Then silence.
The silence is worse than the screams, because at least he’s with me when he’s screaming.
“Is anyone meeting us there?” Henry asks our father, who is staring straight ahead, whipping the car through the winding roads that lead into the valley.
“I’m not planning on it.”
“Henry, how many does Franklin have with him?”
“Maybe half a dozen. Plus the humans.”
“Humans are weak,” I spit.
“They’re compelled,” he reminds me.
“I’ll break their fucking necks. Especially that fucker from the house.”
“You can’t rush in there, Ezra.” My father pulls off the side of the road once we cross the city limits sign. “You need to assume they know we’re coming. That they want us to come.”
“They’ve probably scented us already,” Henry interjects.
“Henry is right,” Diah mumbles from beside me.
I give him a sidelong glance. I’d almost forgotten he was there for how quiet and sullen he’s been the entire drive. If someone had done to Declan what they’d just done to Liz, I would have been climbing the walls with rage. Jedidiah isn’t though. He’s eerily calm and centered.
“We walk from here.” My father turns the car off, but leaves the keys in the ignition.
“Are you alright?” I ask my brother, bumping our shoulders together once we’re both out of the car. He blinks at me, his eyes glazed over with a calculated coolness that leaves me feeling unsettled and frightened.
The trunk pops open and we both look inside; a sleek black case sits in the center of the otherwise empty space. There’re two shiny twist combination locks on it and I slide the wheels around until they all read on three, then the case clicks open. There’s four guns inside, preloaded with silver bullets.
“Ridiculous,” Diah mumbles, snatching one of the guns and shoving it into the waistband of his pants.
“Are you alright?” I ask again.
“Silver bullets, like this is some movie.”
“Jedidiah.” I grab his shoulders and give him a shake. “Are you alright?”
“I will be.”
“You sound like you’re trying to get yourself killed.”
One of his eyebrows twitches, lifting at the corner, and he doesn’t say a word to contest my statement. Before I can press him again, Henry shoulders me out of the way and reaches into the trunk, passing one of the guns to me and another to our father.
I grab the collar of his shirt and yank him close to me so I don’t need to yell. “I know she’s gone, but Elijah is still here. He’s safe at home, and he’s waiting for you to come back to him. So please, get it together right now.”
Diah turns his back to me. “Which way?”
“About two miles in.” Henry points toward a clearing of trees about twenty yards past where we parked.
“I hate hiking,” I grumble.
