Her objections fizzle in front of my eyes, like she’s running through the same slideshow I am. The kitchen table, with only Margot, Paige, and my mom around it. School supplies for one instead of three.
“Fine,” she grumbles. “I’ll be your damn lookout.”
—
The plan, albeit simple and probably not entirely thought out, relies on Margot as our eyes. We snagged Jasper’s camouflage walkie-talkies, leaving one with Margot, the other with Nora and me. If we draw any attention, Margot gives us the cue to get the hell out.
Meanwhile, Nora and I find a weak spot in the fence to slip through. If we’re lucky, the old chain link is feeble enough to be pried apart. If we’re luckier, we’ll find exactly what we’re looking for.
And if we do find them?a voice murmurs in the back of my head.
If we find them, I don’t know how to save them. If there’s anything left to be saved. I feel like I’ve been blindfolded, navigating with only the slivers of light peeking through the top of the fabric.
The three of us halt before the clearing that leads to the fence—only Nora has been out here before, having explored plenty as a kid. Around us, the crickets chirp incessantly.
“You sure you’re up for this?” I ask Margot, who eyes the trees warily.
“Nice vote of confidence, Jo,” Margot says. I scoff.
There is a chance I’ll walk in and never walk out. That I’ve effectively signed death warrants for Nora and Margot by bringing them here. That we’re stepping into a house of horrors with no clue what is waiting, no way to stop it, and no way out.
Nora sidles up beside me, looping her arm through mine. She gives me a reassuring smile.
“We can do this,” she says, looking between me and Margot. “And maybe we’re wrong. Maybe there’s nothing here.”
Thatmaybeisn’t reassuring, but it hangs between us all.
—
Walking away from Margot goes against all reason. Every instinct urges me back, like my body senses the danger and wills me to protect my sister.
But I don’t turn back. I pick my way through the black woods, holding onto the hem of Nora’s shirt. This close to the fence, we aren’t risking the flashlights in case there is something inside, so we’re risking broken ankles instead.
Through the gaps in the trees, I can see patches of fence, mostly blocked by the massive, towering trees. A few are so tall, their thick branches dangle across the fence.
With enough moonlight to see by, Nora pulls her backpack off and unzips it. I’m not sure what I was expecting her to pull out, but a giant set of bolt cutters is definitely not it.
“Do I even want to know where you got those?” I ask.
Nora flashes me a wicked grin. “A girl is allowed a few secrets.”
With that, we approach the fence, sticking close to the trees. When we reach the fence, we have to squeeze through hanging branches thick with leaves.
Nora bends down, and I don’t bother asking if she actually knows how to use the tool in her hands. It’s clear she does as sheslices through the links with ease. Once she’s satisfied, she shoves the bolt cutters back into her bag and waves me over. Together, we pry the pieces of fence to the side. The torn metal pricks painfully at my fingers, but if Nora isn’t stopping, I’m not either. When we have a hole big enough to squeeze through, we wipe our rust-covered fingers on our pants.
“You better be right about what’s in here, Jo,” Nora says, and ducks through the hole in the fence.
Thirty-Four
Nora may have been ourvaliant leader as we trekked through the woods, but I take the lead once we’re through the fence. Fear leaves a metallic taste on my tongue, though that could also be from how hard I’ve been biting the inside of my cheek.
For all my bravado in getting us here, being inside the fence douses it all. And for all the love we have for the people we’re looking for, love might not be enough to save them. It might damn us, like I always figured it would.
Caring is dangerous. Caring gets you here, to a creepy abandoned building in the dark.
There’s little to see once we pass through the chain-link fence. We’re on the back side of the building, and it stretches on farther than I can see in the dark. From here, all that’s visible is a large door and a row of square, rusted generators. Long turned off from the looks of them.
I make for the door, Nora on my heels. Despite the fear billowing off her like heat from a radiator, she’s holding it together.
