Fire & Flood

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

When I open my eyes, the sun blinds me. I jerk my face away from the light and gag on a mouthful of grit. Glancing down, I realize what I’m swallowing is sand.

I push myself up as adrenaline courses through me.

The desert.

We’re in the desert.

I shade my eyes and glance around. Other Contenders are pulling themselves up and rubbing their faces. The memory of leaving the jungle is hazy. I can only recall the syringe.

Panic strikes through me as I search for Madox. I find him close by, jumping in a circle and biting at the sand swirling around his feet. I scoop him into my arms and glance around, looking for Guy. He’s already pulled himself upright and is striding toward me.

As he walks, I notice he’s no longer wearing brown scrubs. And neither am I. We’re now dressed in white shirts, tan cargo pants with a serpent on one of the many pockets, and brown boots that creep toward our shins. Guy’s white shirt hugs every muscle in his chest and arms as he moves. I blush against the desert sun and hope he thinks it’s from the heat. My embarrassment serves to distract me from the knowledge that once again, someone has changed my clothing without my remembering. If that’s not the epitome of creepiness, I don’t know what is. I’m discouraged to see my new threads aren’t a wardrobe improvement. I briefly consider making Madox my Toto and clicking my heels together.

There’s no place like Nordstrom, there’s no place like Nordstrom.

Already, sweat forms along my hairline. It must be a hundred degrees here. Maybe more. The heat isn’t wet like it was in the jungle. Instead, it’s so dry that each breath I take parches my throat. Realization hits me that I left for the race in August, which means it’s probably September by now. September. In the desert.

Great.

Better than August, I guess.

Hills of sand roll across the landscape like waves in an ocean. The sun is enormous, and I imagine if I stretched tall enough, I’d burn my fingertips. With the presence of a never-ending sun and the absence of heavy foliage, it’s like I can see forever. My eyes ache from taking in the vast emptiness. In the jungle, I was always seeing, always exploring something new. But here, my mind is clear. There’s a kind of beauty in the stillness. In the quiet.

Guy and his lion circle around the Contenders and move away. I’m not sure where they’re going until I see a mess of bright orange packs along the ground. The people working the race obviously dropped us here with supplies. Maybe that’s good. Maybe that means this leg will be easier.

After taking three steps toward the bags, I stop. The tanned muscles along Guy’s arms work as he pulls not one but two packs over his back, and then he heads over.

He hands me one of the backpacks and I put Madox down to slip it on.

“Thanks,” I mutter. I’ve accepted that I’ll never figure Guy out — the way he helps and protects me, then leaves when I need him most. I know he’s here to save someone, and that I’m probably confusing him. But I wish he’d open his mouth and say so.

Reaching into the pockets of my cargo pants, I feel the white device and relax slightly. “Do you have your device?” I ask Guy.

He nods and turns toward the desert. “I’m sure it’ll go off soon enough.”

I watch him watching the sand, then I turn and look for Harper. She’s heading in our direction, the blond boy at her heel.

“Hey,” she says. “You guys getting ready?” She seems unsure for some reason, and I wonder if she’s questioning whether we’ll continue to travel together. I know it’s what I’ve been thinking.

I decide to rip the Band-Aid off.

“Ready, now that you’re here. Took your time sauntering your tush over, didn’t you?” I bump her shoulder and smile, all while holding my breath. “Want to lead for a while when we kick off?”

She turns away and peers into the sun, but I don’t miss the relief dripping from her face. “Sure, whatever.”

“Hey-o, I’m Jaxon. With an x, not a cks. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Harper’s told me so much about you.” I look at Harper. She shrugs. Jaxon throws a long, thin arm around her shoulder and she brushes it off. “I’ll be traveling with you guys, but don’t fret, I’m good company. Whoa, rewind. Let’s go with outstanding. Don’t want to shortchange myself.”

“Traveling with us, huh?” I can’t stop smiling at a fuming Harper. It’s obvious she’s found some redeeming quality in the guy, or she wouldn’t have ever agreed to this. Which I’m actually only guessing she has. “Well.” I glance at Guy, then back at Jaxon. “Welcome, I guess.”

A young girl with red cheeks steps out from behind his legs. She looks to be about ten years old and is every bit as round as she is tall. Her brunette hair is pulled back into a ponytail and small wisps of hair curl around her face. The overall effect is beyond endearing.

The girl straightens. “I’m Olivia. I’d like to come, too. If it’s all right.”

Jaxon musses Olivia’s hair and more wisps spring out from her ponytail. “’Course it’s all right. I can’t go anywhere without my sidekick.” The girl grins up at him.

“You’re more than welcome to join us.” No one contests what I’ve said, so I assume the matter is settled. We’ll have two new Contenders to add to our group.

“Are we being replaced already?” a soft voice asks from behind me. I freeze, but a slow smile crawls across my face. As I spin around, my heart leaps.

Caroline and Dink are trekking through the sand toward us.

“Knew you couldn’t stay away,” Harper says.

I throw my arms around the woman I hardly know, almost giddy with relief. “You came,” I say. “You changed your mind.” I try hard not to do my happy dance, to keep my arms at my sides and my feet on the ground, but my body wins out. I jump in a circle, pump my arms, and shake my butt. I’m so obnoxious.

“What the hell are you doing?” Guy asks.

“My happy dance,” I respond, as if it’s obvious.

He shakes his head, but I can tell he’s pleased we’re all together. But we aren’t, really. Our group falls quiet and it’s like we’ve suddenly remembered who we’re missing. One brother is gone forever. But the other …

Our heads turn as we seek him out. At first, we don’t see him, but then Dink raises his arm and points.

“I’ll talk to him,” Guy says. No one fights him for the job. He walks away and approaches Ransom. We watch without speaking as Ransom shakes his head. His mouth never moves. Guy returns and when we look at him for confirmation, he shakes his head once. We don’t ask for details, but I can’t help feeling like I should try. I swallow my apprehension and move toward Ransom.

Guy grabs my arm. “Let him be, Tella,” he says. “He’s not ready for anyone’s companionship.”

I hear Guy speaking, but I can only study Ransom’s slim body. He looks like he’s lost a lot of weight, and his Pandora watches him carefully, as if he knows something is off with his Contender. So young, I think. But then I remember that he’s only two or three years younger than I am.

“I’ll give him space today,” I say, mostly to myself. “But I won’t stop trying to reach out.” I know by saying this, I’m letting go of the fantasy that our old group will travel together. And I suppose I’m praying now for another chance to see him at the next base camp. Maybe after some time alone to mourn his brother, he’ll be more willing to let us in.

“What’s inside the packs?” Caroline asks. “I haven’t looked yet.”

Instead of answering, I look more closely at Dink. His face appears flushed, and I wonder if he’s okay. “Dink, are you feeling all right?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Caroline says, pulling him against her. “I think the serum they gave us just affected him more than most.” She looks down at him. “He’s so small.”

“And inconsequential, which is exactly why he shouldn’t be here,” a new voice says. His words grate my nerves, and before I even turn my head, I know it’s Titus. His blond hair is slicked back, and he’s wearing a painted-on smile. “Tella,” he says, cocking his head up.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“To make you a proposition.” He looks at the pack of guys behind him, then back at me. “I’ve chosen the best Contenders to travel with. And I assure you, one of us will win this race.” Titus glances at the fox at my feet. “I’d like to offer you a position with us … with the Triggers. And with it, a chance to win.”

“Pass,” I say.

“Reconsider,” he growls, stepping toward me.

Guy shoves him backward. “She said pass. Now get the hell out of her face.”

Titus looks alarmed, like he never expected Guy to challenge him in front of his followers. But once again, he fakes a smile and opens his arms, as if everything is one big joke. “Have it your way. Die in the desert, assholes.”

When he swivels on his heels to move away, I gasp. I notice for the first time that he’s holding the end of a rope in his left hand. Attached to the opposite end is G-6, Levi’s ram. I go to snatch it from Titus, but he jerks his arm away like he has eyes in the back of his head.

“See you noticed I went Dumpster diving,” he says over his shoulder. “He’s not the most impressive Pandora, but then again, I’m not done collecting yet.”

At this, Guy attempts to grab Titus, but AK-7 barrels forward and growls. In response, M-4 leaps in front of Guy and swipes his paw just shy of the bear’s face.

Titus roars with laughter and leads the clan of guys — the Triggers — and their Pandoras away. I catch Ransom staring Titus down and wonder if he has a plan to get his brother’s Pandora back. If he does, I certainly wouldn’t mind being included.

I glance at Guy. “He’s after Madox. That’s what Titus was saying, right?”

Guy rubs his jawline, considering. “Yeah, but I think he’ll be looking to pick up any Pandora he can along the way.”

“We’ve got to take that jerkoff down.”

We all turn and look at Jaxon.

“What?” he says. “That guy’s a grade-A douche.”

The corner of Harper’s mouth hitches up, and Guy offers his hand to Jaxon. “Welcome to our group.”

Jaxon laughs and pumps Guy’s hand. Then he says, “The Triggers. How friggin’ pompous is it to give yourselves a name?” He sighs. “What’s ours?”

“No,” Harper says. “We’re not naming our group.”

“I know. The Bombs.” Jaxon makes a falling motion with his fist, then explodes it against the palm of his other hand.

“Dumb,” Harper says.

Jaxon thinks. “The Machines?”

“Nope,” I tell him.

“The Brimstone Bosses!”

“Guys,” Caroline says softly. “The light is blinking.”

My shoulders tighten, and I dig into my pant pocket, searching for the device. When I find it, I fit it into my ear. My eyes never leave Guy’s face. He puts his own device into place and holds my gaze. After three weeks in the jungle, his hair still springs toward the sky in dark spikes. It’s like it’s determined to hold its style regardless of what happens. As opposed to my own hair, which curls closely against my scalp in chaotic patterns. For a fleeting moment, before the woman speaks, I pray that the orange pack I’m wearing holds Chanel makeup. And a brush. And a mirror.

Clicking.

Static.

“Welcome to the second leg of the Brimstone Bleed. As you’re probably aware, this portion of the race will take place across the desert. Just as before, you will need to find the flags in order to locate base camp. And once again, you will be allocated two weeks for completion.”

The sun beats down on the sand dunes, and I can see the air vibrating. It’s almost like I’m underwater. There are sporadic bushes and sparse trees sprouting from the sand, and I wonder how it’s possible they grow in this heat. How anything can survive it. How I will survive it.

“One hundred and twenty-two people entered the race,” the woman says proudly. “And seventy-eight Contenders remain.”

I’m surprised so many Contenders have dropped off. I didn’t see that many in the leave line at base camp, which means some Contenders are still in the jungle. Or worse, they’re like Levi. Gone.

“That means your odds of winning this leg of the race are that much better. And this round, we have a very special prize.” The woman pauses, and I imagine how strangling her might feel. “The winner will receive a small dose of the Cure. Enough to ensure your loved one lives for a minimum of five years.”

All around me, people gasp. As for myself, I’m too shocked to move. My insides roil with conflicting emotions. One is hope, that I can win Cody a guarantee of five healthy years. Another is anger, that the people working this race can do this to us. Surely, if they wanted to, they could create enough of this cure for everyone. The last emotion is the hardest to face — doubt. Doubt that any of this is real. That there’s really a cure that can save Cody. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Still, I have to try. I have to fight for the chance to help him. Besides, Guy did say the Pharmies existed. And I trust him.

Right?

I notice Jaxon waving down two animals, which I assume are Pandoras. The closest one, a cheetah, sprints over to Jaxon and rubs against his leg. Behind the cat, taking slow, heavy steps, is what looks like a baby elephant. The creature moves toward Olivia and wraps its long gray trunk around her waist. The girl scratches beneath the elephant’s chin and stares forward.

Beyond the Pandoras, my eyes connect with Titus’s. He raises a thick arm and points in my direction. Ice courses through my veins at the sight.

The woman’s voice continues.

“The best of luck to you, Contenders,” she says. “Now run!”

I can almost imagine her arm punching the air. In the same moment as the woman tells us to run, the ground shudders. Seventy-eight Contenders and their Pandoras rush forward. Guy grabs my arm and holds me in place. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I take his lead and do the same to Harper. One by one, we pull ourselves together to avoid being trampled.

We don’t run. We don’t panic.

We just watch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Contenders race in all different directions, and Pandoras fly, crawl, and slither behind them.

There are so many different creatures that the sight is astounding. It wasn’t as startling at base camp, seeing them all lounging along the ground, cleaning themselves, and snoozing in the wet heat. But this, watching them plow through the sand, grunting from the strain, their bodies rigid — it’s spectacular.

After the sound dies down, and the Contenders and animals become a blur in the distance, Guy speaks. “We need a plan.”

“Right-o,” Jaxon says.

Guy looks at him for a long minute before continuing. “Last time, there was a pattern to the flags. I think we can assume as much here, too. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a game of skill.” He pulls his pack off and drops it into the sand with a thud. “We also need to dump these. They’re too bright, and they’ll alert our presence to other Contenders.” Guy crouches on the ground and unzips the pack. As he works to pull the contents out, I wonder how he got this way. How an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old could prepare himself for conditions this extreme.

Guy separates the things in his pack into piles. On one side are what looks like a rolled-up tent, a sleeping bag, and a thick length of rope. On the other are a large switchblade and a canteen, which I imagine is full of water. The chrome side of the circular bottle gleams in the sunlight, and I wonder if the race peeps didn’t answer my prayer for a mirror after all.

“Hey, this canteen could be used as a signal to each other,” Olivia says, turning hers so it flashes. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”

As I stare at my own bottle, my tongue swells. I’ve been conscious for ten minutes in this blasted desert, and already I could drink my body weight in water. Or Lake Michigan. I think I could drink that, too. Or maybe the water from that jungle cave, complete with slimy leeches.

“Are you sure we should leave everything? What if we need it later?” Caroline asks. “Surely, they wouldn’t give it to us if we didn’t need it.”

“No.” Guy wipes his brow. “We leave it.”

“Could we carry the stuff in our arms?” Jaxon glances at his cheetah. “Or could our Pandoras carry it?”

“We’ll be too tired to carry anything,” he answers. “So will they.”

Normally, we follow Guy blindly. But right now the group seems to hesitate. Maybe it’s the heat or the fact that the desert looks so barren. I imagine these people are wondering how they’ll replace the things they need if they leave them behind. In the jungle, there was stuff to use. If you could find the right stuff. But here, it’s a blank sheet of paper.

I understand Guy wants to remain invisible to the other Contenders, but I’m not sure why it’s so important. Is he afraid they’ll follow us to the flags? Maybe he’s concerned others will want to join our group. If so, what’s the harm in that? I’m beginning to wonder if this is a good idea. Until I remember Titus. The way he said he’d be collecting Pandoras. And the way he looked at me right before the desert race began.

I remove my pack, pull out the canteen and knife, and toss the bag away.

Harper’s eyes widen slightly, but she quickly follows suit. As soon as she acts, so does Jaxon. Olivia goes next, followed by Caroline and Dink.

“Okay.” Guy points to the sky with his canteen, and the lion at his side glances upward. “We can use the sun as a compass. It rises in the east and sets in the west. I suggest we head east.”

“But that was the pattern last time,” Harper argues. “Won’t they change it?”

“That’s what they’ll expect us to think,” Caroline reasons. We all look at her, but she doesn’t notice because she’s messing with Dink’s hair. When she looks up, surprise crosses her face. “What?”

Guy grins.

My heart bursts.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, Caroline,” he says. “I believe we should start east, then try going north from there.”

“Right on,” Jaxon says with a nod. “When do we get to drink the water?”

I wait for Guy to scold him, to patronize his need for hydration so early on. At the least, I expect Guy to ignore him completely. Instead, he screws the cap off the canteen and tips it up. We watch as his throat works up and down. He must have drained half the water as the rest of us licked our lips. Pulling it away, he sighs with pleasure. “Now. Drink it now.”

“Won’t we need it later?” Olivia asks, one hand pressed against her elephant.

“It’s more important to prevent dehydration.” Guy loops the canteen’s strap across his chest. “So drink as much as you need to feel content. Not satisfied, just content.”

I want to ask about three hundred questions on exactly what content entails. But when Harper raises the canteen and starts drinking, human nature wins out. I open my canteen and nearly die with euphoria as the cool water rushes down my throat. For a moment, I imagine pouring it over my head and then stealing everyone else’s for the same luxury. But I don’t. I just drink until I’m content.

Then decide I loathe the word.

After pouring a little in my hand, I bend down to let Madox drink some. He pulls away like he detests the stuff, and the rest of the Contenders watch me like I’ve lost my mind. I drink the water in my palm, and wonder why my Pandora wouldn’t take it. Does he not need it, or is he sacrificing himself in order for me to have more?

When we’re each done drinking, we strap the canteens over our shoulders like Guy does. We all want to be like Guy. Go, Team Guy.

“Everyone ready?” he asks.

Harper steps forward. “Tella said I could lead.”

My jaw struggles to fall open, but I somehow manage to keep it closed. Since when did what I say become law? I try to maintain a face that says: Yes, that is what I said. Let it be known to all who travel this desert dune. Hear, ye. I mentally stab a staff into the ground and realize Guy is staring at me.

“All right, that’s cool,” he says, still watching me like maybe I’m the serial killer now.

Harper tells RX-13 to take to the sky, and the eagle opens her wings in flight. The sun is already skydiving toward the earth, so we head in the opposite direction — which I guess is east. Walking is like a nightmare all its own. When I first saw the sand, I thought it was beautiful. Like maybe it’d be fun to just roll around in and make sand angels. Now I know the truth, that sand is actually the love child of proud parents Marie Antoinette and Joseph Stalin.

I march behind Harper and am surprised by the bitter wind. I wonder if it’s always this way, or just a today thing. Regardless, it’s wildly annoying. Every few seconds, I wipe sandy sweat from my face, to have it replaced moments later.

I eye Harper’s canteen. Could I drink her water before she takes me down? I wonder.

I’m not proud of this thought.

In the jungle, it felt as if the rain was never ending. I grew to hate it with a wild passion. And now … now I ache for it.

We walk for what feels like years and stop only when the sun vanishes over the dunes. Our clothes are soaked through with sweat and cling to our bodies like a second skin. Harper stops walking, and we all follow suit. I crumple to my knees, and Caroline drops down beside me. Guy was right. There’s no way I could’ve carried anything besides the knife and canteen.

I glance at him to see what Man o’ the Wild is doing now. Just rubbing a random leaf along his arm and inspecting the results. Right. Nothing too strange.

“What are you doing?” My throat aches asking the question. I decide then that if Guy says we shouldn’t drink the rest of our water tonight, I will kill him in his sleep, lion or no lion.

He continues rubbing the leaf along his arm and watching his skin like a maniac. A hot maniac, mind you. But a maniac nonetheless. “We can’t sleep on the sand.”

Caroline looks at the sand, and I can almost see the fear fill her eyes. She folds and unfolds her hands. “Why not? What’s wrong with the sand?”

Guy stops rubbing and glances around. “It’s going to get cold. And the sand will rob our bodies of warmth,” he says. “We have to find something to sleep on.”

The promise of colder weather is almost as wonderful as what’s left in my canteen. And now that he’s mentioned it, I realize it’s not nearly as hot. In fact, it almost feels a little cool already. My white shirt and khaki cargo pants, still soaked with sweat, nearly make me shiver. In a weird way, because it feels so good compared to the heat, the sensation is almost erotic.

Guy gathers branches from the small bushes spread across the desert and asks M-4 to light them. He does, and Jaxon and Olivia provide the appropriate amount of verbal awe at the lion’s skill. Then we all huddle close to the flame, though what I’d like to do is douse the fire and relax in the dropping temperature.

“Take off your clothes,” Guy says quietly.

Five heads whip in his direction. Well, four. Harper’s already peeling her clothes off and drying them by the fire. Jaxon watches her, eyes as big as Saturn.

I quickly understand Guy’s reasoning. The clothes have to dry out so we don’t freeze in our own sweat. That’s it. Chillax, Tella, I lecture myself. It’s not like Guy was talking just to me.

“Seriously?” Caroline asks.

Guy doesn’t answer; he just tugs his shirt off and turns his back to remove his pants. That’s when I see his scars. They’re pink and raised and hug his rib cage. Partially covering them is a tattoo of a large bird facing forward, its wings stretched open.

“You have a tattoo.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I cringe. The scars seem too personal, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking about the ink. Now he knows I’ve been watching him undress. And everyone else does, too. Great, I’m the official creeper in the group.

Guy glances over his shoulder at me. Then he looks off in the distance and kind of nods to himself.

Since I’m already a creeper, I decide to go full-fledged and dig deeper. “It’s a bird, right?”

He pulls his cargo pants off, and before I turn my head, I notice he’s wearing black boxer briefs with a red waistband. Even though I’m light-headed with thirst, right now I can think of nothing else besides the way he’s built: the hard muscles across his back, the bronzed glow of his skin. When he turns around, I can’t help but peek from the corner of my eye. The flames throw shadows across his broad chest and tight stomach. My own stomach fills with butterflies. I decide as long as his clothes are off, I won’t kill him in his sleep … regardless of what he says.

“Tella?” He speaks my name as if in a question, but all I can do is watch his full, pink lips move around my name. The way his tongue quickly touches the top of his mouth when he says it. He sits down next to his lion. “You need to take your clothes off.”

And I die. Right there in the sand.

I glance around and notice even Caroline is removing her shirt. She’s avoiding anyone’s gaze, and I don’t blame her. Slowly, I stand up. My fingers find the hem of my shirt and I start to pull it skyward. I can’t help looking up, and when I do, I find Guy watching me.

I stop cold.

His eyes travel to the band of skin I’ve exposed above my hips, then they move up to my face. I take a deep breath, hold his eyes — heart pounding inside my chest — and gently lift the shirt over my head.

Guy sucks on his bottom lip and it’s nearly my undoing.

He’s only watching me, I realize. Not Harper and her perfect body, or Caroline and her beautiful complexion and dark hair. Only me. Confidence builds in my belly. I have not a spot of makeup on my face. My thick, chestnut curls are gone. And my skin is bright red from the desert sun.

But he thinks I’m beautiful.

I pull in a ragged breath and undo the button on my pants. Moving my hips, I allow them to slide down the length of my legs and drop into the sand. I step out of them, wearing nothing but my mismatched bra and underwear, and my brown combat boots. The flame feels delicious against my skin. Even better is the way his eyes take in every part of my body.

My hands rub along my hips, and my lungs cease to work.

Guy stands up.

He moves so very slowly toward me.

When he’s only inches away, he raises his hands and wraps them around my face.

He’s going to kiss me. Oh God, he’s going to kiss me in front of everyone.

Guy’s eyes dart over my face, and the look on his own is filled with confusion, like he’s not sure how this is happening. He presses his lips together. He closes his eyes. And he pulls me against him.

I fold into his warm chest as he cloaks his arms around me, pulls me tight. His hand strokes the back of my neck, and he lays a small kiss on the crown of my head. I know I lust for Guy. That my body yearns for his touch. But I’ve always attributed it at least partially to circumstances.

Now I’m afraid it isn’t so simple. That this thing —

May not be mere lust after all.

“So …” Harper says slowly. “Are you guys, like, doing it?”

“Seriously.” Jaxon laughs. “Awk-ward.”

I glance away from Guy and realize they’re all staring. Of course they are. There’s nowhere else to look. A blush brightens my face, but Guy tips my chin up to look at him. He’s a full foot taller than I am, and I feel incredibly small in his arms. I wait for him to say something, anything. But he only pulls me back against him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Guy guides me to the ground and we sit side by side.

“You didn’t really answer my question,” Harper says, flashing a grin.

“Jeez.” I cover my face.

“No,” Guy says. I can still feel his eyes on me. “We’re not … doing it.”

Her voice changes, humor mixing with concern. “How will it work for you two? In the end?”

“Harper,” Caroline scolds. “We may be traveling together, but we’re still allowed our privacy. Let them figure it out.”

I can’t believe this is happening. That this thing between Guy and me is public knowledge. Surely, they’ve seen the way we paired off at base camp. But maybe they thought it was a strategy thing. I guess I always figured the same. Even now Guy doesn’t say what’s on his mind. He’s only hugged me. And kissed me the once.

Uncovering my face, I meet Guy’s stare. He’s close enough so that I can feel the warmth rolling off his body. I wish he were closer. I wish his hands were still on me, his arms still wrapped around my waist. But I’m slowly growing accustomed to his sudden bursts of affection. He reaches over and runs his fingers along my feather. He narrows his eyes as he inspects it, then lets it drop against my shoulder.

“Where’d you get that thing?” Harper says, obviously still watching us. “I never asked.”

I grasp it in my palm. “I’m not sure. My mother gave it to me before I left. Said it was her mother’s.”

“Maybe her mom competed in the Brimstone Bleed.”

Even though the desert night is quickly becoming too cold for comfort, my skin flushes with heat. I’ve secretly wondered the same thing. If my mom knew what she was doing when she gave me the feather. If she knew details about the race but told me nothing.

Except that I have her eyes.

Whatever that means.

Guy mentioned that our families may have known, but if they’d told us, there would have been consequences. I wonder about those consequences. I want to ask him, but I’m afraid he won’t say anything in front of the others, so I decide to wait until we’re alone.

“We need to find something to cover the ground,” Guy says. I realize he kind of interrupted Harper and wonder if he did it on purpose.

“What’s the plan, Stan?” Jaxon asks.

“I think we need to use these bushes.” Guy glances at the arm he was rubbing the leaf against, and seems satisfied. “They’re all over the place. Why don’t you, Dink, and I go collect them and the girls can ensure the fire stays lit.”

“Oh yeah. That’s all we’re good for,” Harper says. “Why don’t we watch the sand while we’re at it? Make sure it doesn’t blow away.”

Guy turns and looks at her, exasperated. “You want to come? You’re more than welcome.”

She looks past him and into the dark mouth of the desert and hesitates. “I’ll watch the sand.”

“Thought so.” He stands and offers Dink a hand.

“Why does Dink have to go?” Caroline asks, reaching out to the boy as Guy pulls him up.

Guy doesn’t answer for a long moment, and I can’t see what look he’s giving her. “You know,” he says, finally.

I glance at Harper, my face scrunched with confusion. She shrugs.

After they leave, I ask Caroline, “What did Guy mean? When he said, you know?”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head like she doesn’t know, but I can tell she’s lying. I add Dink to my list of things to ask Guy about tonight.

Nearly an hour later, the boys come back with armfuls of small branches and leaves. They spread them out for us. It isn’t enough to stretch out on, so we all curl up in balls. It feels like I’m sleeping on bones and needles. Overall, a pleasant experience.

“This is terrible,” Jaxon says. “I want one of those number beds old people sleep on.”

“I want my pillow-top mattress,” Caroline adds.

Olivia, who has hardly said anything today, shifts on her twig pallet. “I want a water bed. And then I want to suck every droplet out of that bastard.”

Harper and I look at each other, our eyes wide. Then we burst out laughing.

Guy sits up and opens his canteen. He takes a long pull of water and then lies back down. When he realizes we’re staring at him, he says, “It’s not like you need my permission.”

We all move at once, bolting upward and reaching for our canteens. I tip my bottle back and close my eyes against the goose bumps rolling across my skin. It’s like heaven in my mouth. Once again, I attempt to give Madox, who’s sleeping nearby, some water. He turns his head away.

I decide to treat the water I’d reserved for him as an unexpected gift and rub it over my face. The sensation is amazing, and I feel like maybe I could walk through the desert for another two hours if need be. No sooner do I think this than I feel myself lying back and my eyes closing. Harper is rattling off the keep-watch shifts, but I can barely make out what she’s saying. It’s like the words are coming from behind a wall.

I have to wake up when it’s Guy’s turn, I tell myself. I need to ask him what else he knows about the race. And about Dink. And if he’s being generous with the convo, maybe about that sexalicious tattoo on his back.

Someone takes my hand in theirs, and though I want so badly to open my eyes and find out who it is, I tumble into sleep.

The next morning, I wake to Madox licking my face. I have to admit, with my skin feeling like crispified meat loaf, it isn’t the worst sensation in the world. Without opening my eyes, I turn my cheek and allow him access to the other side. My mind is still hazy with sleep, so I don’t think to check if someone is watching — until now.

My eyes snap open.

I find Olivia looking at me with sheer disgust dripping from her face.

I push Madox away gently and pull myself up. She’s the only one awake. I’m thankful for that, at least.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I say.

“That makes it sound so much worse,” she responds, shaking her head. Her elephant is sleeping next to her, its legs folded beneath it. It sounds like it’s snoring.

I glance down at Madox, whose body is writhing with excitement. He’s thrilled that I’m awake, and I love him so much for that, it nearly hurts. Looking back at Olivia, I try again.

“I was half asleep,” I say. “I would never make him —”

Olivia smiles, and I realize she’s messing with me. “Sorry, I got bored keeping watch all alone. Humiliating you is the most fun I’ve had all morning.”

I breathe out and kind of half laugh. “I thought you were serious.”

“Nope.”

I survey our campsite and spot Jaxon spread out on his twig bed. His left hand twitches. “I would’ve thought Harper would assign you two to keep watch together.”

“She did.”

“Oh.” I fight the urge to smile, but lose the battle. The corner of my mouth tugs upward and Olivia matches the gesture.

“You’re all right, Tella.” Olivia stands up and walks over to Jaxon. As she nears him, I think about what a grown-up thing that is to say. You’re all right. The chubby girl squats down and gets close to Jaxon’s ear. She fills her lungs, opens her mouth, and yells, “Heeeeeey, Jaxon.”

He doesn’t move.

Olivia looks at me. “I think he’s dead.”

“I assure you, I’m not,” Jaxon mumbles.

The girl smiles and slaps him on the back. “Up and at ’em.”

Jaxon lies still, but the rest of the Contenders begin dusting themselves off and putting their clothes back on. When Guy glances at me, I silently kick myself for sleeping through my shift. I know Harper must have assigned us to keep watch together, and I know he didn’t wake me — as usual. I had so many questions to ask. Questions that’ll have to wait another day.

When Guy takes a pull on his canteen, we all do the same. There’s hardly any water left in my chrome bottle, and I assume from the concerned looks on the other Contenders’ faces that I’m not alone in this predicament.

“We should keep heading east,” Guy says. His voice is rough from sleep, and I have a strange urge to lay a kiss on his throat. “Harper, you want to continue leading?”

Harper avoids his gaze and instead stares at her Pandora, who’s flapping the dust from her wings. She couldn’t send a clearer sign; she’s too tired from yesterday to lead today.

“No, I want to lead,” I say. “It’s my turn.” As soon as I speak the words, I regret them. My skin is raw and blistering, and my legs are sore from trudging through the sand. I’d actually rather pour the remaining water from my canteen into the wind than lead this group. But I don’t want Harper to be embarrassed.

Harper shrugs. “Fine. Whatever.”

Before we head out, RX-13 and Jaxon’s Pandora, Z-54, hunt for food. They return with bitter green fruit and we force it down. Guy says it’s good they found this, that the fruit is mostly water and will help quench our thirst. I seriously doubt that.

Just as it did yesterday, the sun beats down with a vengeance. It’s like it has a personal vendetta against human beings and wants nothing more than to fry our asses like bacon. Which I could totally go for about now. And pancakes. Powdered sugar, blueberries, syrup — the works. Ugh. My skin feels like it’s on fire, and every breath I take burns my throat. The Pandoras hike alongside us, and I can tell that even though they were designed for this race, they’re struggling in these conditions.

Z-54, the sleek-bodied cheetah, strides along in front of me. The design of his body allows him an ease of movement the rest of us don’t have. Every so often, it’s like the animal catches himself and slows to match our pace. And each time he turns his head, I see his mouth hanging open, panting in the sweltering sun. I follow his paw marks in the sand, leading our group across the desert dunes, thankful for the guide.

After three hours of hiking, I hear something drop behind me. Turning around, I notice Dink slumped into the sand. All of our faces are coated in sweat and grit. But his looks different, almost swollen. “He needs water,” Caroline says, flustered. She pulls the canteen from across his shoulders and opens it. Holding the bottle to his lips, she tips it upward. He doesn’t react, and I soon learn why.

There’s nothing left inside.

“Oh my God. I knew this would happen.” Caroline looks at me — brow furrowed — as if I have the answers. “How are we supposed to survive out here?”

Olivia drops down and covers her face, like she’s been fighting the urge all morning. I glance at Guy, who looks every bit as concerned as Caroline does. I give him a look that says, What are we going to do?

He bites the inside of his cheek, thinking. “We need to find a body of water.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jaxon says, kneeling to rub Olivia’s back. “But that doesn’t exist in the desert.”

“Actually, in many deserts, it does.” Guy massages the back of his neck. “Some deserts have streams running through them, and others lie adjacent to oceans or snow-capped mountains.”

“But an ocean won’t help us,” Harper says.

“No.” Guy looks at me. “But a stream or snow will.”

I can’t fathom being anywhere near snow. It doesn’t seem possible. Jaxon stands and squints up at the sky. “Maybe we should travel at night,” he says. “It wouldn’t be as hot.”

It seems like a brilliant plan, but Guy shakes his head. “That’s what’s easiest, so it’s what other Contenders will do. We need to travel during the day if we want to circumvent … conflict. Also, too many predators come out at night. We won’t be able to avoid them if we can’t see.”

Jaxon’s face drops with defeat. “Then what are we going to do? We’ll die in this heat, or we’ll die from predators. How do these pricks expect us to live?”

“Guys,” Caroline says, her voice cracking. “We have to give Dink our water or he’s not going to —” She stops and weeps into her hands. Her back convulses, but when she pulls her palms away, they’re dry. We can’t even cry anymore, we’re so dehydrated.

Olivia flops onto her back and squeezes her eyes shut. “I finished my water, too,” she says in almost a whisper. “And I don’t think I can survive this day without more.”

Olivia’s Pandora — which she told me this morning is named EV-0 — startles like it heard and understood her. In a flash, the elephant stomps away from Olivia and rears its head back. The Pandora raises its trunk into the air and then drives it into the sand. Madox barks and jumps in circles as the elephant blows through its trunk and sand showers the air. The Pandora blows again and again, and more and more sand sprays up, creating a cloud of yellow.

“What’s it doing?” Harper yells, waving her arms in front of her face.

“I — I don’t know.” Olivia stands. She goes to move toward EV-0, but Jaxon grabs the back of her shirt and pulls her against him. Harper watches the way Jaxon shields Olivia with a strange look on her face. One I can’t quite read with the airborne sand blurring my vision.

The elephant stops blowing through its trunk, and when the cloud settles along the ground, I see that a small pit has been created in the earth. Other than that, nothing spectacular has happened. Olivia breaks away from Jaxon and throws her arms around her Pandora, which still has its trunk buried in the sand.

Bending down on its front legs, the elephant blows one last time into the earth — and the shallow pit fills with water.

“Get the heck outta here,” Jaxon says.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The water gurgles from beneath the pit, and soon there’s a miniature pond of clear water reflecting the burning sun. Caroline doesn’t hesitate. She drags Dink to the side of the water and splashes it across his face and over the sweat-soaked curls on his head. His eyes stay closed, but a low groan escapes his throat. Keeping an arm around his shoulders, Caroline fills the boy’s canteen and brings it to his lips. He drinks greedily.

After that, it’s a mad dash to the water.

Guy and I fill our canteens as Olivia drinks straight from the pool of water. I’d find it a bit gross that she’s drinking straight from the source we’re filling our bottles, but she’s beat out on the grossness scale by the lion, eagle, cheetah, and fox tongues lapping up the liquid.

So Madox was thirsty, I realize. And he was reserving what water I had for me.

I know my Pandora’s been programmed to help me win, but I can’t help feeling like he did it for more than just that reason. My heart aches watching him drink with insatiable thirst, and I pledge to force him to share my water going forward. ’Course, I guess that won’t be an issue since this baby elephant can apparently find water from inside the earth via its magical trunk.

Caroline and Jaxon fill their canteens last, and we all lounge in the sun, drinking water until our bellies are full. Olivia scratches her Pandora behind its ear; it has withdrawn its trunk from the ground and is drinking the water itself now.

“So …” Jaxon says. “Did that elephant just spit up water and we all drank it?”

“Don’t think about it,” Harper says.

Immediately, Jaxon nods. Of course, I can see him thinking, staring at her. What an idiot I am to have thought that. You are so wise and beautiful and perfect. Harper doesn’t seem to realize he’s studying her. That he seems awfully close to eating her face to see if it tastes like happiness. Knowing Harper, it probably does.

Before we leave the pit, we each take a turn washing the stank off our bodies — something we’re all thankful for. And then, with thin limbs and protruding guts, we continue walking through the desert. Olivia leads, with the elephant by her side. Guy suggested the idea to have her at the front, and ever since, the portly, frizzy-haired girl has trekked at the top of our group with her chin tilted toward the sky. I have to admit, I’m quickly becoming a devout Olivia fan. And her elephant? Any Pandora that can produce water in this hellhole is A-OK by me.

Madox circles my ankles and looks up at me so intently that he trips over his own feet. He seems to be saying, It wasn’t that cool, Mom. I can do anything it can do. I want badly to pick him up, but even though I’ve had my fill of water, I’m exhausted after walking so far today.

When the sun begins to set, we do exactly as we did the night before. Caroline fusses over Dink. Jaxon ogles Harper. The boys gather desert carnage for our beds. Guy watches me undress. I imagine our wedding.

We gather around the fire M-4 lights and talk for a few minutes. Everyone is fatigued and it isn’t long before I hear Jaxon snoring.

“Guess Jaxon can take the late shift,” Harper says, rolling her eyes. She assigns our shifts, and Caroline, Guy, and Olivia speak over her, echoing her words.

“We know our shifts,” Caroline says, grinning. She fingers Dink’s curls as he closes his eyes. It’s obvious he’s not quite asleep, but he seems to be fading fast. Though he drank as much water as we did, he still seems … off. Usually, he’d be the last to lie down, and only after he’d drawn pictures in the dirt or sand for a half hour or so.

I lie down, keeping my eyes on Guy. He’s stretched out on his back, his hands folded beneath his head. I realize I’ve hardly ever seen him sleep. There was this morning, and also when I followed him in the jungle and he slept in the trees. Maybe he doesn’t need sleep like the rest of us do. Maybe he really is a machine. I’d like to cut him. Just a little bit. Just to see if he bleeds. Then I’d like to kiss the spot and take the hurt away.

What is wrong with me?

Guy turns his head and looks in my direction. Just as I suspected, he isn’t asleep. Instead, he’s studying my face, like he couldn’t fathom succumbing to slumber before I do. I smile at him. It isn’t something I do much anymore, but right now, feeling his undivided attention — I give in to temptation.

He doesn’t smile back, and an unreadable expression shadows his face. I can’t quite interpret what it says, but I know it’s mixed with worry. For some reason, it makes me furious. I don’t need his concern. I can take care of myself, and I think I’ve proven that.

Turning away from him, I shut my eyes. I think of my brother and realize with stinging guilt that it’s the first time I’ve thought of him since arriving in the desert. I’ve been too occupied with the man who’s here now. And for the first time, I wonder — if that’s exactly what Guy wants.

I wake to someone rubbing my upper arm. When my eyelids lift open, the first thing I notice is the dark stubble along Guy’s jaw. He shaved at base camp, but it’s already grown back, casting a shadow on his wind-worn face.

His steady blue eyes watch me as I pull myself up.

“You woke me,” I say quietly. “I can’t believe it.”

He shrugs one shoulder and turns toward the fire. It’s roaring and crackling in the cold desert night, and I imagine he must have had M-4 relight it moments before. Scooting close to him, I feel the heat rolling off the flames.

“I’m glad,” I finish.

“You didn’t seem as tired tonight.” Guy rubs his hands together, then places them on his knees. He seems nervous, but I don’t think it’s because he has something to say. It’s more like he seems embarrassed to have woken me up. Like he’s afraid I’ll realize he wanted company.

That he was actually lonely.

I know he’s not going to initiate a conversation, so I decide to ask him the questions I’ve been harboring. I start with the easy stuff. “Guy?”

He looks at me.

“What did you mean when you told Caroline, ‘you know,’ after you said Dink should go with you guys?”

Guy stares into my eyes for a long time, searching. Then he says, “I just meant that he’s got to start doing things for himself. Caroline is stronger than she appears, but no one’s survival is guaranteed out here. If something were to happen to her —”

“There’d be no one to baby Dink anymore,” I finish.

Guy nods.

I’m not sure I believe what he’s telling me is the truth, but I have no reason to think he’s lying. Running my hand over Madox’s sleeping body, I ask my next question. It’s not the one I’m most curious about, but I’m going for easier banter before I pull out the big guns. “When did you get that tattoo?”

He swallows and glances toward his lion. “A few months before I left.”

This surprises me. I thought maybe it’d been something he did right after he received his invitation. As a let’s-get-ready-to-rumble symbol. But then, I guess it’d be all scabbed over like the miniature one my BFF from Boston, Hannah, got on her ankle. Of her own name.

“It’s a bird, right?” It’s the second time I’ve asked this, but I feel like maybe he’ll answer now that we’re sort of alone.

Guy runs a hand over his fresh stubble, and I’m suddenly envious of that hand. “Yes, it’s a bird.”

“Any particular kind?”

Guy looks right into my eyes, and my heart stops. I imagine I’m dead, and this is what heaven feels like. The way he’s staring at me makes me think I’m missing something important. “It’s a hawk,” he says slowly, so quietly I almost don’t hear him.

“Oh” is all I can think to say.

He looks at me for another full minute, then glances back at the fire. Guy is a mystery. From the way he speaks to the scars and disfigurements across his body. And I’m ready to get answers. Real ones. I swallow the lump in my throat. Last question. “You know more about the race than what you’ve already told me.” I squeeze Madox’s short tail in my palm. “I want you to tell me the rest. Everything.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he says.

Anger boils inside my chest. He’s harboring information that could help the rest of us. We’ve all agreed to aid one another until the end, yet he’s not doing that. Not really. What upsets me most is that I know I’d tell him. “You act like you’re a part of this group. But as long as you’re withholding information, you’re not.” I lie back and roll onto my side. “I can’t trust you if you won’t trust me.”

He stares straight ahead, but even from here, I can see his face soften. “The only things I know …” He pulls in a breath. “The only things I know are what my parents told me.” Guy glances at me. There’s fire burning in his eyes. “I won’t tell you anything that could bring you harm.”

I sit up, hands on my knees. And I wait. I know to wait.

“It started with a man named Gabriel Santiago. The Pharmies worked for him.” Guy fills his lungs like he’s preparing to fill in the holes in the info. “Some of the Pharmies were scientists who worked in genetic engineering. Others worked in medicine. But they were all creators of sorts. And Santiago, he had the kind of money that could make things happen.

“He was a gambling man. He loved watching his money grow without his lifting a finger. Santiago believed he was born lucky and maybe that he was born smarter. Smart enough to know it’s easier and more exhilarating to earn money from being right. So he sought ways to gamble: cards, hounds, horses. He loved discovering grander and riskier bets. Because Santiago believed he couldn’t lose. And if he was losing, he had a crew of guys who’d ensure it didn’t last long. Gabriel Santiago wasn’t the kind of boss you disappointed.” Guy rubs the back of his neck like he’s thinking. Or maybe like he’s trying to decide how best to tell the story.

“Santiago had a young daughter named Morgan. She was … she was his everything. He’d lost his wife years before, and Morgan was all the family he had left. He gave that little girl everything. Anything she asked for, and anything else she didn’t. Some said he was a cold man, others called him a criminal, but for her, he melted.”

Guy narrows his eyes at the sand between his knees.

“One day, one of Santiago’s guys told him that this firm, Intellitrol, was looking for financial backing. Said these guys were playing with genetic engineering and making huge discoveries in medicine and that there was a fortune to be made. That they just needed direction and cash … and someone willing to take a chance. To Santiago, it sounded like a different kind of gamble, and he couldn’t help being intrigued. So he agreed to meet with them, and before you know it, Gabriel Santiago had these guys working on all kinds of crap. And in general, things seemed to be going smoothly.

“But one day, when Morgan’s birthday was rolling around, Santiago jokingly asked one of the scientists at Intellitrol to make a puppy for his daughter that can fly like a sparrow. At first, they were all laughing, but then the Pharmies started thinking about it. Why couldn’t they make something from two different animals? Or from different elements that existed in the world? This was when genetic engineering was first being discovered, right, so there was a lot of excitement at Intellitrol about it. And they had Santiago’s resources to play with…. So they did.”

Guy’s eyes meet mine, and my stomach clenches.

“When Santiago saw the animal they created for his daughter, and when he witnessed how much Morgan loved it, he saw a business opportunity that dwarfed anything else he’d done before. So he told these guys to start making more of these animals … fast.”

I glance at Guy’s lion and think about the fire it created hours earlier.

Guy hesitates again, and I get the sudden sensation this isn’t going somewhere good. “But soon, Santiago started pushing the Pharmies to take more and more risks with these creatures. And as the animals started increasing in numbers — kept in cages below a warehouse Santiago bought — the scientists started worrying. See, none of this research had been approved by Intellitrol. Or anyone. And the public tends to rebel when something unnatural — something ungodly — is created. Plus, these scientists weren’t exactly supposed to be taking orders from Santiago, their investor, when it was a public company and whatnot.” Guy bites the fleshy part of his thumb, like he’s debating telling me more. When he looks at me, I know he’s decided to continue.

“So the scientists decided they’d approach Santiago and tell him they didn’t want to make these animals any longer. Well, the guy went apeshit. Threatened to go public with their research and tell Intellitrol, the FBI, the CIA, whoever what they’ve been working on. In truth, Santiago never would have reported them, not with his past. But the scientists didn’t know this, so they came up with a plan: burn the building down and call it an accident. The other Pharmies, for one reason or another, agreed it was the best way out. So they started the fire. But they didn’t realize …”

Guy wipes a hand across his brow. He flinches.

I put my hand lightly on his thigh and hold my breath.

“Santiago’s daughter, Morgan, she was in the building. She was … she was down near the animals’ cages, probably playing with them and crap when the Pharmies started it.” Guy swallows and says in a rush, “She died.”

“Guy —” I start. But he shakes his head and I can tell the conversation is over. I want to push for more. I want so badly to know how this story ends with us here. With me and Guy and Harper and the rest of the Contenders fighting to save the lives of the people we care about. But I know it won’t get me anywhere. So I make a promise to ask him later. Maybe then he’ll share the rest of his secrets.

As my mind wraps around the horrific story he told, I lie back down. This time, I don’t turn away from him. After a few moments, he reaches out and lays his enormous hand against my cheek, cupping my face. I press against it and close my eyes, thinking of Morgan, of how she burned to death.

Maybe Guy is filled with lies. Or maybe he has an ulterior motive in telling me what he has. But just for tonight, I decide to throw caution to the wind. And trust him completely.

Even if he does break my heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The next morning, we are rejuvenated. Already, we’ve learned how to sleep in the cold, on twigs and leaves. We’ve adjusted to the desert quicker than we did the jungle, though the desert is crueler. Still, it shows surviving the wild is a learned skill. That we can apply tricks from one ecosystem to another.

Caroline says she’ll lead, and Guy quickly agrees, though the rest of us are worse at veiling our surprise. The daughter who came to save her mother has shocked me more than once. Guy was right when he said she’s stronger than she appears. I’ll have to keep an eye on her. Although last night I lost myself in Guy, in the story he told me, today I remember my brother — that I’m here to save him.

That Guy is temporary.

And Cody is my family. My blood.

This morning, I’m near the back. It allows me to move slower, knowing I won’t hold anyone up besides Olivia, who’s behind me. It also allows me to think about what I’ve learned. That Santiago had a daughter and that scientists accidentally killed her. Did Santiago find out what the Pharmies did? Or did he die an old man still thinking it was an accident? Regardless, I need to find out the rest. About how all this leads to the Brimstone Bleed. I know now how the Pandoras were first created, but why a race today when this happened sixty years ago? And when am I going to tell the others about the things I’ve learned?

I look at Guy. A few more days, I decide. Just a few more questions answered before I risk the others jumping on him. It isn’t fair that I’m keeping this from them, but I tell myself it’s because I want to get the full story first. That it’ll help them more if I do.

I glance around and notice Madox is trudging along near the lion this morning. M-4 wants no part of the baby fox, but my Pandora is insistent. Overhead, RX-13 screeches and glides through the sky, wings spread open, riding the wind.

I pull my canteen off and take a long drink. The water feels incredible washing down my throat, and I pray today won’t be as hard, knowing I can drink when I need to — which is about every ten minutes.

Behind me, I hear Olivia’s stomach growl. You and me both, sister. For the last three mornings, we’ve eaten a steady diet of bitter green fruit. I’m about ready to stir-fry Madox just to get a little meat up in this joint. Madox looks up at me and whimpers, like he can read my mind. I hold my hands up in claws and act like I’m a monster. He trots ahead of the lion.

God, I’m such a jerk.

I stop when I don’t hear Olivia or her elephant trudging behind me. Turning around, I notice she’s about ten feet away, bending over at the waist. She’s going to be sick, I realize.

“Jaxon,” I say, because it seems right to tell him. “I think Olivia needs you.”

Everyone stops, and Jaxon moves toward Olivia. That’s when I see the girl reach a hand out toward the ground. She isn’t sick, I gather suddenly. She sees something in the sand.

“Olivia,” Jaxon barks, his voice cold as steel. “What are you doing?”

Guy races past me so quickly, a breeze blows across my skin. But it’s too late.

The sand beneath Olivia’s hand shimmies and a thick brown snake thunders into sight, pink tongue tasting the air. Above its eyes are two perfect horns. The sight sends a shiver down my body, but I don’t move. No one does. Not even the Pandoras. Olivia has frozen solid, her hand still outstretched toward the snake.

“Olivia,” Guy says beneath his breath. “Do not move.”

A hissing, crackling sound emanates from the snake in a crisp warning, and the girl begins to cry silently. Her arm shakes, and tears drip down her cheeks, drying before they reach her jawline.

“I want you to listen to me.” Guy is a statue of muscle and bronze in the scorching sun. I want to believe he can help her. He has to. “I’m going to tell you exactly what to do.”

“Don’t let that thing touch her, Guy,” Jaxon snarls. “Don’t you dare fuck up on this.”

“Olivia, open your eyes.” Guy’s voice is smooth as milk, but each word feels like a gamble. Like something that may startle the snake and put Olivia at risk. “That’s good,” he says. “Now, I want you to take a very small breath. Very small. And at the same time, I want you to step backward. Pull your right foot back first, then bring your left back to meet it.”

My head is pounding. My heart is thumping. I’m afraid I might scream from pure anxiety.

Olivia pulls in a small breath and steps back with her right foot.

Should she have moved so fast? Why is she moving so fast?!

The girl brings her left foot back to meet her right, and I can see her body relax just a bit. The snake watches her carefully, tongue flicking, body arching.

“That’s good,” Guys says. “Now, when I tell you to, I want you to do the same thing again. Another small breath, another step back. The rest of you, stay still. Don’t approach Olivia. That means you, Jaxon.”

Jaxon doesn’t respond, but I recognize the fear twisting the features of his face.

Olivia sucks in a short breath and steps her right foot back. Flawless.

She brings her left foot back to meet it —

And stumbles.

Her hands splay out and she falls forward. Jaxon runs toward her, and Olivia’s Pandora makes the most terrible sound through its trunk. But nothing helps.

The snake strikes.

Caroline screams, or maybe it’s Harper. My heart is pounding so loud in my ears, I can’t tell where it came from.

The next thing I know, Jaxon is carrying Olivia away and the elephant is stepping on the snake’s head. Guy withdraws his pocketknife and swiftly cuts a clean slice behind the snake’s head. When the elephant pulls its foot back, Guy kicks the head away from us and rushes toward Olivia.

“Give her to me,” Guy tells Jaxon.

“Screw you,” he says.

“Give her to me!” I’ve never heard Guy so much as raise his voice. So the sound of his shouting sends waves of hysteria rolling over me. This is serious. Oh my God, this is serious. I can’t lose someone else. Olivia can’t die.

Jaxon’s eyes are wide with uncertainty, but he hands a sobbing Olivia over. Guy drops to the ground and holds her against his chest. He looks her over before announcing, “It struck her on the hand. On her pinkie.” He sighs with despair and adds quietly, “A horned viper.” Guy searches the desert, and his eyes land on her elephant. “Olivia,” he barks. “Tell your Pandora to help you.”

Olivia stops crying for a moment, sniffs, and looks at the elephant. “EV-0,” she says, her voice shaking so much, my heart clenches. “Please help me.”

The elephant takes two steps in her direction and stops.

“EV-0, help me,” she repeats.

Her Pandora’s head drops ever so slightly.

Olivia looks at each of us and then back at her elephant. “Help me, you worthless animal! Help me! Help me, damn you! Help —”

She stops screaming and sobs into Guy’s chest. Jaxon points at Guy, tears streaming down his face. “Do something,” he says. “You do something or I’ll kill you myself.”

Guy didn’t put the snake there. He didn’t make Olivia stumble. But we depend on him. And now that something terrible has happened, we expect him to make it better.

“Take off your shirt,” Guy says, staring directly at Jaxon.

Jaxon rips his shirt off like it’s made of acid. He drops it in front of Guy.

“I need yours, too, Dink.” Caroline helps Dink — who appears even paler than he has the last two days — remove his shirt. She tosses it to Guy. He lays Olivia flat on her back in the sand, and she curls into a ball, sweating and crying without end. He takes Dink’s shirt and twists it into a long rope. “Open your mouth, Olivia.”

“What are you doing?” Jaxon says, pacing.

Guy ignores him, and Olivia opens her mouth. “Bite down on this,” he tells her.

She does, and my stomach turns as I realize what he’s planning.

Guy wipes his switchblade along his pants to remove the snake’s blood. He looks up at Jaxon, then at Harper. “The two of you need to hold her down.”

Olivia squeezes her eyes shut and moans into the shirt. I know she’s thinking the same thing I am, that this isn’t going somewhere good. Looking at her now, I briefly wonder if Santiago’s own daughter, Morgan, was much younger than Olivia.

Harper grabs Olivia’s arms, and Jaxon holds her legs.

“Tell me what you’re going to do, asshole,” Jaxon spits.

Again, Guy doesn’t answer. And I still don’t move. But when he grabs Olivia’s hand, and lays the blade at the base of her finger, I turn and vomit into the sand. I’m still emptying the water in my stomach as Olivia’s muffled screams reach my ears. When I finally stand up, I’m shaking so hard, I almost collapse. I know what’s happening behind me, but I can’t look. I can’t.

Eventually, Olivia’s screams stop. Someone else is crying, but I know it’s not her. At some point, I’m going to have to help. We’re here for one another … until the end. And I’ve done nothing but nurse my own fear while Olivia lives a nightmare. I pull in deep breaths of dry desert air and turn around.

The world spins as soon as my eyes land on Olivia. Her body has crumpled in on itself. She looks lifeless, but I can see her chest moving, so I know she’s not gone. She must have just lost consciousness. Harper is rocking herself and staring at her own boots, and Jaxon is crying into his hands. Guy kneels over Olivia, his hands covered in blood. His eyes are glassed over, like he’s having trouble grasping what he did. But he shouldn’t. It isn’t hard to understand when the truth is lying in the sand —

As Olivia’s severed pinkie.

Though Guy seems helpless, I notice he’s wrapped Jaxon’s shirt around the girl’s hand and is pressing down. I don’t know if he’ll be able to stop the blood. It’s a finger, not a skinned knee. A friggin’ finger. I remember when Hannah and I used to play those would-you-rather games.

Would you rather kiss Curtis O’Brian with tongue, or get a hickey from Mr. Davidson?

Would you rather go three days without makeup, or get kidney punched by that girl who only wears lip liner?

Would you rather discuss sex with your mom, or cut off your own pinkie?

In any situation in which losing your pinkie was an alternative, the finger always got the ax. But that was in theory. Not in real life. Not in an Olivia’s-finger-is-lying-in-the-sand-and-turning-blue kind of way. In this case, I’d choose the other option. No matter what.

Guy speaks and it startles me in the way a shotgun firing might.

“We need to rest here for the remainder of the day,” he says. “If she’s okay when she wakes up, we’ll travel through the night.” No one responds. I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing. That we don’t want to make her travel at all, but that we also need to find base camp or we’re all dead.

The cheetah moves toward the finger and sniffs. My heart beats in overtime praying he has some skill that can help. I know Pandoras usually help only their own Contenders, but maybe because Jaxon is so upset, Z-54 will do something anyway. Harper raises her head to watch, and even Caroline stops rocking Dink to see what the creature will do. We all hold our breaths.

The Pandora continues to sniff it for a few seconds, then lifts his head … and bats at the finger like it’s a toy.

“Oh my God,” Jaxon says. He jumps toward his cheetah. The Pandora snatches the finger between his jaws and trots away from the group. Now M-4 runs after the cheetah. They fight over the finger in a way that’s almost playful. This is a game for them, I realize. They love us, are built to help us survive, but they also have instincts. And right now they smell blood.

The lion steals the finger away and pops it into the air. From behind the lion, the cheetah leaps up and bites down on it.

“Jesus,” Guy says. “Someone get that thing away from them.”

I try not to think about what’s happening, and instead race toward the two cats. Right as I reach them, the cheetah closes his mouth over the finger. And swallows.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I fight the urge to get sick again. Seeing a cheetah eat a child’s finger is not something I ever thought I’d need to be equipped to handle.

We find a small tree, which offers almost no shade, and carry Olivia beneath it. And then we wait. At first, we watch the girl, but she never stirs. Then we watch the cheetah to see if it gets sick from the venom, but it doesn’t.

When the sun finally sets, and Olivia still hasn’t woken up, Guy says we need to bring her around. Jaxon agrees and shakes the girl gently until she stirs. “Heeeeey, Olivia,” he says, though nowhere near the way she did to him this morning. “Heeeeey, Olivia.” The girl’s eyelids flutter for a moment, then she raises them completely.

The first thing she does is puke.

I bite my lip watching her, hoping this is a good sign. Guy doesn’t seem too concerned, which I take as promising.

“Give her water,” Guy tells Jaxon.

Jaxon retrieves his canteen and tips it so that Olivia can drink. She takes a few pulls and then pushes it away.

“Olivia,” I say. Jaxon, Guy, and the girl all look at me. “Is there anything we can do? Anything?”

Her eyes fall to the sand. “Is it gone?”

Guy hesitates, then says, “Yeah, I had to remove it so the poison wouldn’t get in your system. We probably got the majority out.”

“My body hurts and my head feels funny,” she says.

“That’s the venom.” Guy glances at her hand, still wrapped in Jaxon’s blood-soaked shirt. “It should wear off over the next several hours.”

Olivia closes her eyes and swallows. “Where is it?” she asks. “My … my finger.”

Everyone looks at Jaxon.

“Don’t look at me. It’s not like I made him do it.” Jaxon’s already sunburned face reddens deeper. Though he acts upset with what’s happened to Olivia, he also seems relieved that she’s okay now. “Stop looking at me. All of you.”

“Jaxon,” Olivia says. “Where is my finger?”

Harper snorts, and now we look at her. “Oh my God,” she says. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to …” She shakes her head, covers her mouth, and waves her hand as if to ask us to stop staring.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Olivia sits up and holds her injured hand in her lap. “I just got bit by a snake with horns, got my finger cut off with a switchblade, and I’m in so much pain, I feel like I could die.”

“Does your hand hurt?” Guy asks.

“Actually, no,” Olivia admits. “It’s throbbing, but it’s numb.”

“Probably the venom, but maybe it’s because of blood loss.” Guy narrows his eyes, thinking. “Maybe it’ll stay numb until we can —”

“Where is my finger?” Olivia screams.

Caroline bolts to her feet. “The cheetah ate it.”

Olivia’s eyes get so big, I’m afraid they’ll burst. “The cheetah. Ate. My finger.” The girl looks at each of us. “That’s what you’re telling me? That Jaxon’s Pandora ate the pinkie from my right hand? My writing hand?”

“To be fair, he won it from M-4.” Harper looks like she’s about to explode from laughter. I’m not sure whether I feel like laughing, too, or punching her in the ear. “They battled for it.”

Olivia’s gaze turns wild, and she stares off into space for a minute. Then a small smile crawls over her lips. “That is, like, the best way for my finger to go.” She looks at Jaxon. “Ever.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Soon, we start walking. Olivia seems to be doing better, but the pain in her hand is now full force. Jaxon sets her atop the elephant and stays close by to ensure she doesn’t slide off as we travel. Every few minutes, the girl whimpers in agony. The sound gives me a nervous tic, and I find myself anticipating it, my hands balled at my sides.

As the last of the day disappears behind the sand dunes, I think about what Guy said. That we shouldn’t walk at night because of predators. A chill rushes down my spine — not only because of the plummeting temperature, but from thinking about what might be lurking nearby, invisible in the night. The smell of Olivia’s blood wafting around us can’t be good.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Caroline asks. Her voice startles me. It feels too close and too far away at once. It’s been night for all of ten seconds, and already I can hardly see anything.

“We have to find base camp.” It’s Guy’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. And I know exactly what he’s implying: that if we don’t find base camp, Olivia may not make it. The poison is mostly gone from her body by now, but she’s clearly still losing blood.

I stop when I hear a scuttling sound nearby. “Did you guys hear that?”

“Oh God,” Caroline moans.

Everyone stops walking, and the sound continues. It doesn’t grow louder, but it doesn’t go away, either. I hear Guy sigh and know he’s contemplating what to do. Something brushes my ankle. I’m seconds from screaming bloody murder until I realize it’s Madox. Crouching down, I run a hand over his sand-filled coat.

“Everyone needs to ask their Pandoras for help,” Guy declares.

Immediately, there’s a chorus of voices as Contenders call out demands. I speak directly to Madox, who ignores me as usual. I still can’t figure out why other Pandoras seem to understand their Contenders and Madox doesn’t. Maybe he just wasn’t built with that skill. Thinking he’s incapable of doing something the others can pains my heart. Not because I want him to be the best for me, though there is that. It’s more that I can’t help but think of him as anything less than perfect.

Before I can reflect more on Madox’s inability to comprehend English, a flash snaps over the area. I shade my eyes for a moment, and when I pull my hand away, I can see everyone in our group and all our Pandoras clearly. When I spot Z-54, my mouth tugs into a smile. Jaxon’s cheetah stands a few feet away, his eyes shooting out twin beams of red light. I survey the area and don’t see anything. Whatever the sound originated from is now gone.

“Wicked cool,” Jaxon breathes, approaching and then petting his Pandora. He looks up at us. “Do you see this? Do you freaking see this? I never knew.”

“Perfect,” Guy says, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “I just wish we had another set to light our rear as we travel.” Guy looks in my direction. Understanding floods over me.

“Madox doesn’t understand me,” I say quietly. “Or I’d tell him to.”

I wish he could understand me, I think to myself. I wish I could just ask him to listen to Guy and mimic the cheetah, and it’d happen.

Madox chases the beams of red light for a moment, like it’s a game. Then his eyes flick on. They scan the cheetah, and seconds later, my baby fox morphs into a large spotted cat.

“Holy crap.” Jaxon points at Madox, but looks at me. “No way.”

I pull a Guy and shrug like it ain’t no thang. “He does it all the time.”

“He rips off other Pandoras?” Jaxon says. He inspects Madox closer. “He’s like a fugazi.”

“A what?” Harper says.

Jaxon tosses the curly blond hair from his eyes. “A fake.”

“He’s not a fake,” I say. “He’s brilliant.”

“Fugazi,” Olivia croaks from the elephant.

Jaxon nods toward Olivia as if that settles it.

“Does anyone know anything else their Pandoras can do?” Harper says. “If so, spill now. These revelations are taking up way too much time.” Everyone stays quiet, and Harper waves a hand ahead of us. “Let’s roll, then, shall we?”

As Madox heads toward the back, his red-flamed eyes pass over Caroline and Dink. In that small moment, I notice just how terrible the boy really looks. His skin is ashen and coated with sweat, even in the cool air. And his chin touches his chest as if it’s too much to hold up his own head.

I move toward him. “Dink, are you okay?”

“He’s fine,” Caroline snaps, pulling him to her.

“Yeah, he’s clearly not,” I say.

“Tella.” Guy speaks my name in a way that says to drop it, but I’m not about to.

“What?” I tell him. “Why can’t I ask what’s wrong?”

Harper takes two steps toward Dink and then freezes. “Oh God. He’s really sick. Caroline, why didn’t you say something?”

“Everyone needs to leave him alone,” Caroline says in a whisper.

“You mean, leave you alone, right?” Harper cocks a hand on her hip, like she’s ready to go twelve rounds. “You seriously need to —”

“Just shut up!” Caroline screams so loudly, her words seem to echo for miles. Bathed in red light, her shaking body looks almost explosive.

Harper steps backward and holds her hands up. “Okay, sorry. Jeez. Freak out much?”

“Let’s keep moving,” Guy says, interrupting the weirdfest.

Madox, dressed as a cheetah, strides behind us as the real Z-54 takes the front. We move through the desert like this, ignoring what just happened, four beams of red light paving our way. For the first couple of hours, I can’t stop thinking about Dink. Then I start thinking about Cody and the prize. And how if I can make it to base camp first somehow, then I can make my brother healthy again. If only for a few years.

I’m not sure if it’s the lights or the sound of our steps shuffling through the sand, but I never see any predators. Not that I want to make night traveling a habit. Then again, we’ve been walking for an eternity and I don’t feel like a puddle of sweaty filth. So that’s something, I guess.

When we finally stop, Guy and Jaxon gather a few twigs — only enough for a small fire — and M-4 lights them. Then we squat around the flames and warm ourselves. Walking heated our bodies fairly well, but now that we’ve stopped, the perspiration lacing my skin causes me to shake.

Jaxon, Olivia, and Caroline drift off to sleep, even though there’s little time before the sun rises. Even Guy closes his eyes. Maybe he’s asleep, though I like to imagine he’s not. It makes me feel better about the strange way Dink is staring at me.

“Can I do something to make you feel better?” I ask the boy.

He doesn’t answer, just wraps his arms around his legs and sticks his head between his knees. I glance at Harper to see how she’s handling this. From the looks of it, she’s not. She glances everywhere but at Dink, and I realize it’s the most nervous I’ve seen her. I don’t think she knows what’s going on with him, but it certainly makes her uncomfortable.

“Harper,” I whisper. “What do you think we should do?”

Her head snaps in my direction. “How should I know?” she says. “He’s just a kid. Why is he even out here?” She shoots up and walks away into the darkness.

“Harper,” I yell-whisper. “Harper!”

But it doesn’t matter. She keeps moving. I think about waking up Guy and ordering him to do something. But it’s obvious she wants to be alone, so I inch closer to him and keep my eyes trained on the boy. My chest aches as I watch him. I want to do something to help. We’ve been so focused on Olivia ever since the snake, but now I’m wondering if Dink didn’t need our attention just as much. The only thing I know for sure is that we have to get to base camp soon. For both their sakes.

I must have drifted off, because when I open my eyes, I see Harper smiling over me.

“Wake up, woman,” she says. “I found a flag.”

“Really?” My voice sounds like a truck driving over gravel. Nice.

“Yeah, hop to.” Harper moves away and rouses everyone else. I wonder if her waking me up first is her attempt at an apology. I decide to think it is, and accept it as an early-morning gift.

“You found a flag?” I hear Jaxon saying over and over. The pride in his voice is evident, as if Harper’s success is partly his own doing. He lifts her up and spins her in a circle.

She shoves an elbow into his chest. “Let me down or I’ll aim lower.”

He sets her on her feet. “You’re sexy when you threaten me.”

“You disgust me,” she retorts. But I don’t miss the blush that brightens her cheeks. Harper looks at me and Guy, and attempts to hide her reaction to Jaxon’s words. “It’s this way.”

Guy glances at me, and I notice his skin has become even bronzer in the desert. It’s like his body is made to withstand any situation, while the rest of us wither like dried cranberries.

I hate him.

The corner of his mouth quirks upward.

Or love him.

Jaxon checks on Olivia, who mumbles that she’s still in pain, thank you very much. And keep your idiot Pandora away from my other fingers. He seems pleased that the girl is well enough to be difficult and nods to Harper that the two are ready to travel. Caroline puts an arm around Dink and signals that they’ll follow.

Harper straps her canteen across her chest. “Great. Let’s get going. We can have RX-13 catch us some breakfast after I show you where the flag is.”

Oh, the anticipation.

It takes about a fifteen-minute walk before we get to the blue flag, which lies lifeless against the tall rod. My fear that we’d trudge through a windy desert every day was obviously unfounded. I bet RX-13 hates days like this, when she has to beat her wings often in order to fly. Then again, maybe that’s the fun part. Who knows.

“Why didn’t you take it down, champion?” Jaxon asks Harper.

Harper shrugs.

“If I were you, I’d strap that baby around my head like Rambo.” Jaxon looks at Guy. “Have you ever seen Rambo? It’s an old throwback action movie where —” He pauses, and his face brightens. “Hey, that’s it. Let’s be the Rambos. Yeah, we’re totally the Rambos.”

“That’s the worst one yet,” Harper says, her eyes trained on the flag.

Jaxon looks at me. “You like it, right?”

“Actually, I kind of do.” And it’s the truth. I could totally sport a flag around my head and Rambo out if someone threatens us. “Maybe we should vote on —” I stop when I notice Guy bending down a few feet away. “What’s going on?” I ask. “What do you see?”

“Footprints,” he answers.

Caroline moves closer, leaving a red-faced Dink behind. Harper is nearest Dink, though I don’t expect her to offer support. Watching her shy away from the boy, I wonder again who she’s here for. She and Dink are the only ones of the old group who haven’t volunteered the information. I move next to the kid and wrap my arm around his shoulders. He leans against me and makes a low, guttural noise. Something dies inside me when I hear it.

“Maybe the prints are from Harper,” Caroline offers.

“No, there are different sizes.” Guy sweeps the sand with his fingers and looks over his shoulder at Jaxon. “Did you come here last night? Did you follow Harper?”

Jaxon holds his hands out. “What am I, some sort of stalker?”

“You’re totally stalking her,” Olivia mumbles from atop the elephant. We’ve had to move slower since EV-0 is carrying the girl, but I’m just thankful we can get her across the desert. Though I wonder how long the elephant will be able to continue with the extra weight, especially if we travel in the heat.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little infatuation.” Jaxon raises a single eyebrow at Harper, and she pretends not to notice.

“If someone else was out here, they would have seen the flag,” Harper says. “And they would’ve taken it.”

Guy’s shoulders drop. He stands up and glances at me, then at Madox. “Maybe they weren’t interested in the flag.”

“Oh snap.” Jaxon tugs the flag off the pole, wraps it around his forehead, and ties the ends behind his head. “The Triggers tried to jack our Pandoras. But never fear, the Rambos are here! Am I right?” A huge grin stretches across his mouth.

Guy shakes his head at Jaxon, then looks back at me. “It may not be him.”

But we both know it is.

“Just in case it is,” Guy continues, “we need to travel through the day.”

“But we’ve hardly slept.” Caroline eyes Dink with worry.

“And they probably haven’t, either.” Guy looks around the desert like he’s already searching for the next flag. “Which means they’ll be stopping soon to rest.”

“It’s the only way we can try and lose them,” Harper says, finishing his thought.

Guy nods to himself. “We agreed to go north after we headed east, but this flag was directly east. So what do we do? Continue east or head north?”

I glance up into the sky and locate the sun. It’s the morning, which means the sun is currently east. Which also means … I look in the northern direction. On the horizon, I see something. Squinting, I can just make out a different sort of landscape. It appears almost darker. “Look,” I say, pointing. “Do you guys see that?”

Everyone stares into the distance.

After a moment, Jaxon looks at me like I’m crazy. “Uh, yeah. It looks like sand.”

Caroline shakes her head. “I don’t see anything, either.”

“That’s because there’s nothing there.” Jaxon takes a drink of water from his canteen. “You people are dehydrated. Seeing visions and shit.”

“No, farther out,” I say. “There’s something there.”

“I see it, too.” Harper steps toward the blurry shape as if that’ll help.

Guy starts walking. “We head north.”

I look at Caroline. She shrugs and takes my place next to Dink. “I guess we’re going north,” she says.

Getting in line behind them, I pray what I’m seeing is something worth pursuing. Otherwise, I could be the reason we perish in this desert. But right now all I’m worried about is getting as far away from those footprints as possible.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

After trudging through the sand for half a day, we find another flag. I gloat. I point fingers in people’s faces. I tell anyone who will listen that I know this desert like the back of my hand.

Harper almost slaps me.

I don’t blame her. I almost slap me.

I’m just so happy what I saw pointed us in a direction that didn’t lead to certain death. Then again, there’s still a ways to go before we reach the thing I discovered, which has more or less turned out to be rock formations.

“So we just keep on heading north, right?” I ask.

Guy nods. “We keep heading north.”

“And why is that?” I twist side to side, a huge grin splitting my face. “Because we found another flag?”

My dark-haired, blue-eyed, bronze-skinned muscle man rolls his peepers so hard, they nearly fall from his head.

“Okay, but we’re going to stop once the sun sets.” Caroline places a palm to Dink’s forehead. “I mean, we have to.”

“Yeah, we’ll stop,” Harper answers for Guy.

After walking for several more hours, we’re still a day or more away from the rocks. It doesn’t seem like base camp would be this close, but it still gives me hope. Maybe we found it really quick this time. It’s only been, what, five days? That means we have nine left. Piece of cake.

Oh my God. Cake.

Once I start thinking about it, I can’t stop. I picture chocolate on chocolate and strawberry with pink frosting. Then I think of the more interesting kinds: carrot cake, pound cake … German chocolate. And cheesecake. Oh, holy mother. Cheese. Cake.

“You okay?” Jaxon asks as we find a place to camp for the night. “You look a little crazy in the face.”

“I’m so hungry,” I say.

Jaxon holds his hands up and steps backward. “Easy, girl.”

“I’ll send RX-13 out,” Harper says.

Though I’m not looking forward to what the eagle finds in this hellhole, right now I’m too starved to care. “Want me to send Madox with her?” I ask, eyeing my waistline. I’m thinking I could’ve used the desert diet last swimsuit season. Maybe I could package it and make millions.

The desert diet: Eat whatever you want, as long as it’s nondescript green fruit or beetles. If you’re hungry, spring for a rabbit. Plain.

“No, the fox will just slow her down. Even if he does change shape.” Harper sends RX-13 off in search of food, while I think over the Madox insult she just tossed out. “God, I’m exhausted,” she says.

I eye her with amazement. I thought she was like Guy, that maybe she wouldn’t know exhaustion if it shaved off her shiny, blond hair. Yawning, I realize I’m also beat. Walking through sand for hours on end has a way of sucking the life — and soul — out of you. For a moment, I imagine winning the Cure for Cody. On one hand, after he’s better, I could be all quiet-hero and never mention how difficult the race was. People will talk behind my back and say, She’s so brave. She never even brings it up, but we know it must have been terrible. That Tella, she’s amazing.

On the other hand, I could go for martyr-who-will-never-let-it-go. I could shove it in Cody’s face every chance I got. I’d be like, Hey, Cody, enjoying that doughnut? You wouldn’t be if I hadn’t saved your ass. And, Hey, Cody, nice wedding you’re having here. You know what you’d be doing today if I hadn’t saved you? Not getting married.

Lying back and driving my hands beneath my head, I smile at the possibilities. I feel Guy lie down beside me. I wonder if he’ll light a fire, now that I can hardly see a thing and the temperature is dropping. Or if he’ll get twigs for our beds — God forbid we sleep on something mildly soft. I decide if he does go twig hunting, I’ll go with. There’s no reason why I can’t help.

I’m still puzzling over what Guy will do, and what his bedroom looks like, when sleep takes me.

When I wake up in the middle of the night, the sheer darkness startles me. I’m so used to waking to find sunlight or a fire. I sit up and glance around. I can’t make anything out, but I can tell there are sleeping bodies nearby. I assume they’re my fellow Contenders and decide I must have missed dinner or that everyone passed out before RX-13 returned. I also determine Guy is human after all — otherwise, I know he would have lit a fire before crashing. I lie back down, scoot closer to where I think he is, and try to fall back asleep.

But before I can, I spot something.

In the distance is a glowing light. Madox is grunt-snoring at my feet, so I know it’s not coming from his eyes. I decide maybe it’s the cheetah but figure I better check it out. Pulling myself up, I debate whether to wake Guy. If this were a movie, this would be the part where I scream at the girl to not go alone. But this isn’t a movie. And if I wake up Guy and it turns out to be nothing, he’ll give me another one of those concerned looks.

Running my fingers over my feather, I decide to take a quick gander and come right back. I listen for a moment to ensure Madox is still asleep — and still snoring — and head toward the light.

As I get closer, I realize from the way the light dances that it’s a fire. Something is blocking my view of the flames, but I can’t determine what it is. In the colorless night and the flickering glow, my mind plays cruel tricks. I slow my stride and stoop closer to the ground, a nervous sensation blooming in my belly.

I should go back.

I should wake Guy. Or Harper. Or anyone.

Though I think these things, I can’t help but take one more step. Then another. My heart throbs inside my chest. My skin tingles with energy. I can see the thing in front of the fire better now. It’s small. And it’s crouched. My face pulls together with confusion.

One more step and I’ll be able to see it.

I take the step.

Understanding hits me as the thing turns in my direction. My entire body tightens and something screams inside my head.

The thing is Dink.

His pink mouth and small hands are covered in dark blood. I stagger backward and shake my head when Dink’s blood-coated lips part into a spine-chilling grin. Something is wrong with him. Something is very wrong with him. And I can’t help but notice how close he is. How he could reach me in a few seconds if he wanted. But that’s a ridiculous thought. Because this is Dink — the boy I decided is only about eight years old.

Dink stands, and I notice the blood doesn’t just paint his hands but stretches toward his elbows. I take another small step back and stop when he holds out his palm. It’s like he’s asking me to come play. Behind him, there’s something lying on the ground.

The blood. That’s where the blood is coming from.

I glance around Dink and train my eyes on the thing he’s been toying with. The boy brings his outstretched hand to his mouth and licks his fingers. Then his smile stretches farther.

Oh God.

He hasn’t been playing with something. He’s been eating it.

I move to the side, my sight fixed on the boy. Then I glance down.

A scream catches in my throat when I see Jaxon’s cheetah lying behind Dink, his stomach ripped open.

Dink makes a loud hissing noise and leaps forward.

He’s on me before I can think.

The boy opens his jaws and reveals his miniature teeth, laced with bits of flesh. He jerks his head toward me and tries to bite my neck. I fight to keep the child away from my face. There’s no way he weighs more than seventy pounds, but his strength is staggering when he knocks me down into the sand, as if his sickness has made him stronger. I cry out as I shove him away. But as hard as I push, he moves only a few inches back. He’s still dangerously close, but the extra space between us gives me the opportunity I need. I use my leg as a slingshot and kick him away. He flies off and lands hard in the sand.

In a heartbeat, he springs onto his hands and feet like a monster and scurries toward me. His jaw hangs open and that same hissing sound emanates from his throat. I crawl backward as fast as I can, but he’s coming too quickly. His brown eyes have taken on an almost red hue, and I know if he gets to me again, that this time, he will actually bite me. No matter what, I have to stop that from happening. I can’t contract whatever he has. I can’t die in this desert. Because if I do —

My brother dies with me.

As Dink races closer, I spring to my feet, look for something to ward him off. Spotting the fire, I decide if I can grab a burning stick, maybe I can use it as a weapon. I dash toward the flames, the sound of Dink at my heels driving me forward. When I get to the blaze, I stop in astonishment. The fire — it’s burning without wood. Without leaves. Without anything.

How?

No sooner do I think this than Dink slams into my legs. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground again. He climbs up my back and wraps his hands around my throat. I open my mouth to scream, but he covers my lips. I cry out through his fingers anyway.

Then he starts to push my head toward the fire.

Every muscle in my body tenses as my face nears the flames. I manage to push away from the heat a few inches, but he shoves me back down. The smell of burning hair fills my nostrils. My mind spins when I realize the scent is my own.

Deep in my throat, I scream. The sound is inhuman. I thrust myself away from the ground with every ounce of adrenaline I have. Dink soars from my back. Turning around, I ready myself to fight him. But when I see the boy, he’s lying on his back, staring up at Guy.

Switchblade in hand, Guy crouches on one knee and jabs the other knee into Dink’s chest. The boy kicks and thrashes and flails his arms. But mostly, he makes that strange hissing noise. Guy raises the knife above his head.

“No!” I scream.

But it’s too late.

Guy plunges the blade into Dink’s chest. The boy’s mouth falls open and his eyes widen. He pulls in four sharp breaths, and then his eyelids slide closed. They stop midway, so that I can still see the red brown of his irises. I cover my face and shake my head. This didn’t just happen. It didn’t. It didn’t.

When I uncover my face, tears streaming down my cheeks, I see Guy pulling off Dink’s boots.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I choke. “Leave him alone.”

He doesn’t stop. Just keeps tugging off his right boot and then his left. He rips the boy’s stiff white socks off next and leans in. Glancing over his shoulder, he motions me to come closer.

I shake my head.

“Tella, come here,” he says gently. But I can’t listen to what he’s saying when his hands are covered in Dink’s blood. I know the boy was trying to hurt me, but he was sick. We could have saved him.

Guy stands up and drags the boy toward me by the ankle.

“Stop it,” I say quietly.

But he doesn’t. And when he pulls the child close enough so that I can see what he’s trying to show me — I gasp.

T-33 is stamped on his foot.

Guy drops the boy’s ankle, and his leg falls to the ground with a thud.

Like honey dripping from a bottle, realization trickles through my mind: Caroline saying her and Dink’s Pandoras had perished; Dink pretending to have lost his device; Dink saving Caroline from the river with ease; Dink building a fire without the use of anything flammable.

Dink is a Pandora.

Dink is Caroline’s Pandora.

“No way,” I say, tears blinding my vision.

“There’s nothing we could have done.” Guy says it like I’m feral, like I might bolt into the desert and never return if he speaks too loudly. He reaches toward me, and I curl into myself. I can’t look at him right now. He saved me. But he killed Dink. But he saved — “Tella, there was something wrong with it,” he continues. “The Creators went too far when they made this one.”

“I don’t know how I missed it,” I whisper. I look up into his eyes. “I don’t know how I never —”

I stop talking and a shiver races over my skin.

Titus is standing behind Guy.

“Guy!” I scream.

Titus brings his arm around Guy’s throat before he can react. He snaps his head backward and Guy’s eyes bulge. I race toward him, but someone grabs the back of my shirt and yanks me against his chest.

“Hey, beautiful,” a voice says against my neck. I cringe against the sound and land an elbow in his gut. He releases me, and I turn on the guy. He’s easily a foot taller than me, and is no doubt one of Titus’s friends, but right now I feel like a weapon. Like I could take down an army of Tituses.

I stomp on the guy’s boot and then throw my palm into his nose. A cracking sound splits the air, and the guy crumbles to his knees. I feel another pair of arms clamp down on my shoulders and yet another pair grab my legs. The two guys lift me into the air and I erupt with anger. I kick and scream and bite and tear with my nails. But it’s no use.

No use. Until Harper appears with Jaxon and Caroline — and our pissed-off Pandoras — at her heels.

“Get. The hell. Away from her.” Harper catches up to us and lands a blow on the guy holding my arms. He releases me and turns to wrestle with her instead. I watch her for only a moment, but it’s enough to realize that — though I’ve always thought of Harper as indestructible — I’ve grossly underestimated her.

She isn’t a Contender.

She’s a warrior.

Harper takes down a guy nearly twice her size as I wrestle with another who keeps going for my legs. Over my shoulder, I hear the screeches and cries of our Pandoras engaging the Triggers’ Pandoras. My gut twists as I think of Madox fighting. But right now I have to concentrate on the guy in front of me. The one sneering like I’m his next meal.

When I hear Caroline wail, I realize she’s found Dink’s body. I want so badly to go to her. To tell her everything will be okay. But I can’t risk turning my back right now.

From the corner of my eye, I spot Titus’s grizzly bear limping toward the fire. He opens his jaws and roars. The second time he roars, he also raises his paws, and a driving wind floods from his mouth and paws. I stop, startled, and watch as the fire blazes higher. As more wind pours from the bear’s mouth and claws, sand washes over the flames.

The blaze drowns.

I spot Caroline on the ground, Dink’s broken body lying over her lap.

And then there is only darkness.

A pair of hands encircles my stomach and hauls me away from the battle. I can hear Harper screaming in agony as I’m dragged away from my friends. Away from Guy.

Away from Madox.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

It’s daylight when I come to. My hand flies to my head, and I groan. There’s a hard lump beneath my fingers that hurts when I touch it. For a moment, I can’t remember why. Then I see Titus squatting by his grizzly bear. He’s sharpening his knife against a stone. The steady slink-slink-slink it emits makes my head pound.

He stops and looks over. A slow smile parts his mouth. “You’re awake,” he says, as if we’re old friends instead of a guy and the girl he knocked unconscious. “You’ve been moaning over there for a good hour. Thought you’d never come around.” He points the tip of his knife to his forehead. “Sorry ’bout the blow.”

Glancing around, I notice six other guys sleeping. They’re spread out like skydivers along the sand. All except one, who’s curled into a tight ball. It’s an odd sight, given that he must weigh three hundred pounds.

I pull myself up and wrap my arms around my waist.

“I took your device and your knife,” he says. “And your canteen.” Titus stands up and walks toward me. I pull into myself as he crouches down. “Oh yeah. And your Pandora.”

He points the knife over my shoulder at something.

Spinning around, I spot at least a dozen Pandoras. My eyes scan each of them quickly. “Madox!”

I scramble for my black fox, but Titus grabs on to my legs and drags me toward him. He wrenches me to my feet and presses our foreheads together. “I see you’re going to need some breaking,” he says.

I jerk my head back and locate my Pandora. He has a rope around his neck that is tied to a tree. Many of the smaller Pandoras are secured in the same fashion. The Triggers must have used all their rope from the orange packs in order to imprison these creatures. A few Pandoras aren’t secured, and I wonder why they don’t flee. Among them are Titus’s grizzly, which I assume stays out of loyalty for his Contender. But the stolen Pandoras should have no such loyalties.

Pandoras like Levi’s ram, G-6.

Most of the animals have lash marks across their faces and torsos. Even the bear has a large wound across his midsection that appears infected. Seeing the laceration, I remember the creature had similar injuries when Titus was traveling with us. At the time, I assumed it was from the fight with our Pandoras. But now I’m certain it’s Titus’s doing, that he’s abusing his own Pandora. Though the bear makes me extremely nervous, I can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow.

Madox, thank God, appears to be in perfect condition. Surprisingly, he isn’t fighting against the rope. It’s like he knows not to upset Titus. It seems all the Pandoras think the same thing.

Don’t startle the psycho.

I decide to take this as my own personal motto.

“Isn’t my collection awesome?” Titus presses his nose to my cheek. “And now I’ve added one more to my display.” I think he’s implying Madox, but when he runs his hand over the back of my neck, I realize he actually means me. “Good thing my prized possession comes with the best Pandora on the market.”

Letting me go, he points toward the top of the tree. “See what else I picked up?” I glance up and spot RX-13 among the branches, a rope wrapped around her leg. “That Harper bitch sure doesn’t need it anymore.”

My head wants to snap around to look at him, see if he’s telling the truth, but I try not to move instead. He’s trying to get a rise out of me, but he won’t get it. I know they didn’t kill Harper. They couldn’t have.

Right?

Titus walks to his guys and kicks them each in the ribs until they wake. They don’t even complain. They just pull themselves out of the sand and look to Titus for direction. “These are the Triggers,” he says. “But I told you that already, didn’t I?” He nods to himself. “But did I tell you that we’ve been following you since the desert race started? I told my guys, I said, Stick with me, ’cause I know a girl and her fox who can win this thing for us. And when they do, we’ll all share the Cure.”

“You can’t do that,” I say. “The Cure is to save one life.”

“Who says? A voice from a little contraption?” He scratches his head with the tip of his knife, mussing his slicked-back blond hair. “When I win, I’ll make sure my guys are taken care of.”

Though I know he’s dangerous, I can’t help but wonder if he’s right. Can the Cure be shared? Can the rules be changed? Looking into Titus’s dark brown eyes, I know that even if they can, he isn’t going to help these people.

“Tella, listen. I know you may be pissed now, but you’ll come to realize I’m your best bet of winning part of the Cure. You’ll learn to like me. Hell, you might even learn to love me.”

“If you think that’s true,” I snarl, “then you’re even dumber than I thought.”

Titus nods toward Madox. “Dumb like a fox.”

His guys — the Triggers — laugh like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. Except the huge one, the one who sleeps like a terrified child. He smiles, but never quite laughs. I wonder if I could find sympathy with this guy. If he might help me escape. But I quickly dismiss the idea. Anyone who sides with Titus is someone I can never trust.

“Thirsty?” Titus asks, holding up two canteens. I assume one is mine. For a moment, I consider refusing his offer. I don’t want to take anything from him. But I know if I want to survive this day, this heat, then I have to be smart. I nod. He hands me a bottle and says, “We didn’t know what the hell we were going to do about water. Good thing you guys had a Pandora who could create it, or whatever it is that elephant does.” His narrow nose wrinkles. “Though I’m not sure I enjoyed drinking after you. Pretty disgusting, actually.”

“How will you find water now?” I ask, after I drink from my nearly empty canteen.

Titus smiles. His teeth seem too big for his mouth, but they’re alarmingly straight and bright white and not altogether unpleasant to look at. “I guess we’ll have to find base camp quickly.” He reaches for my canteen, and I shove it in his hand. Behind us, the guys start untying the Pandoras. I hear an animal grunt, and I whip around. One of the guys — who has a severe case of acne — is kicking a stag in the legs.

“Stop it,” I yell, but the guy continues his abuse. Turning to Titus, I say, “Stop him or I’ll kill you. I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, I’m shaking.” Titus mimics being afraid as I imagine stabbing him in the pectoral. He looks at the guy hurting the Pandora and says, “All right, stop beating on that thing already. We have company. Manners, people.”

When Acne Face cuts Madox lose, I run toward him and lift the fox into my arms. Madox presses against me and I whisper in his ear, “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“How touching.” Titus pulls two canteen straps over his head. “Now let’s keep moving. We head toward those rocks. That’s where you guys were going, right?”

I want to mislead him, but another part of me wants only to rejoin my Contenders. To be with Guy again. Knowing Titus will probably head north anyway, I decide to pretend I’m easily breakable and tell him the truth. “Yeah, we thought maybe base camp was beyond those formations.”

“Splendid,” he says. “Let’s skedaddle.”

The guys form a line behind their leader, but Titus insists I walk next to him. As if we are equals. As if we are friends. As if. I squeeze Madox so tight, he yelps and I have to let him down. Several times as we walk, I glance at Levi’s Pandora. The ram has cuts along his muzzle and one of his kneecaps seems to be breaking through the skin. Even worse than the sight of him is the groaning sound the animal makes as he walks. Tears burn my eyes when I realize the creature won’t make it much farther. It makes me hate Titus so much, it’s almost scary. He may not have laid a hand on any creature besides his own, but these guys listen to him, and he obviously allowed this to happen.

As we continue through the worst hours of the day, I question why Titus is chancing traveling while the sun is up. Guy assumed most Contenders would move during the night, but Titus seems determined to get to base camp. Watching him unscrew his canteen and take a pull, I suddenly understand there’s a reason beyond winning the five-year cure: We’re running out of water.

The stolen Pandoras surrounding us look beaten into submission, but I’m still curious as to why they don’t try and escape. It almost seems like once their Contenders were out of sight, they lost track of what their purpose was. Like they’ve turned into zombie animals or something. Watching Madox trudge through the sand, tongue hanging from his mouth as he pants, I pledge to never let that happen to him.

“Enjoying the weather?” Titus asks. Even covered in sweat and filth, he’s not unattractive. His wrestler build, deep-set eyes, and wheat-colored hair make him my best friend Hannah’s exact type. But it doesn’t take X-ray vision to see that his insides brim with wickedness.

“It’s great,” I say evenly. If I can play nice and make it to tonight, then perhaps I can escape while they sleep. Even if they take shifts like we do, I’ll have a better chance of fleeing when it’s one-on-one. “What exactly is your plan when we get to base camp?” I ask, trying to appear social. “You know my friends will make it there. And there’s no way they’ll let you hold on to me.”

“I don’t need a plan. By the time we get to base camp, you’ll have realized you belong with us.”

Fat chance.

“We’ll see.”

Titus flashes me another thousand-watt smile. He thinks I’m open to the idea. I can see it written all over his pompous face. The question that nags me is why he cares if I willingly join them. He already has me and my Pandora in his possession.

I feel a hand squeeze my butt.

“What the hell?” I yell, spinning around. The guys keep straight faces and stare forward. Titus stops, and the tin soldiers stop, too.

“What happened?” Titus asks.

I inspect the guys, searching for something that tells me who it was. Then I look at Titus. His face is pulled together in confusion, and he’s too far away for it to have been him. I want to spill, but I’m afraid it’ll A) cause a commotion I don’t need, and B) screw with Mission Escape in the Dead of Night. For now I’ve got to pretend I’m considering joining his ranks. And part of that is acting like this kind of stuff doesn’t bother me. So I feign passiveness.

“Nothing,” I say, trying to hide the venom in my voice. “The guys were just messing around.” I don’t smile. I don’t laugh. Doing either might send a red flag. Titus may be nuts, but he’s not stupid. I just shrug like it isn’t a big deal and keep walking.

Surprisingly, Titus doesn’t press. But I see the way he eyes his guys before I turn away.

After we’ve hiked for another hour — Titus chatting away like we’re on a first date — Madox begins to whine. Titus holds a hand out and everyone stops. “What’s he doing?” he asks.

I approach my Pandora, but it does nothing to calm his nerves. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

“The wittle fox is all tuckered out,” Acne Face mocks from the back. The guys laugh, but the gesture sounds forced.

Titus waves a hand forward and keeps walking. When I go to follow, Madox barks. Once. Twice. Three times. Every step I take, he becomes more and more upset, circling my ankles, rearing up and placing his front paws on my shins. I feel like I’m watching an old black-and-white Lassie show.

What is it, girl?

Titus stops us again. Nothing looks strange ahead, but Madox certainly doesn’t want me going any farther. Titus looks at Acne Face and says, “Go check things out.”

The Trigger seems proud that Titus asked him out of the other five guys. He nods and jogs past us. He searches the ground, looking for whatever it is that’s caused my fox to panic. Then he turns and faces us. “I don’t see anything,” he calls back.

Titus’s brow furrows. “Keep looking.”

The guy spins around and takes a few more steps. Then he stumbles and falls.

At first, it appears he’s just tripped over a rock or something. But as he flails, I start to realize it isn’t that at all. It almost looks like he’s … sinking. Titus waves an arm at the guys behind him, and they race past us to help Acne Face. The Pandoras stay behind, heads hanging. I take a step to follow the guys, but Titus grabs my arm.

He tips his chin up and asks them, “Well, what is it?”

A guy with enormous shoulders and long legs turns around. “Quicksand.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Titus keeps hold of my arm and creeps toward the quicksand. Madox goes crazy, barking and whining when he notices Titus dragging me behind him. I silently plead with my Pandora to cool it, and miraculously, he does. “Nick,” Titus calls. “You sinking?”

“Yeah,” Acne Face — Nick — answers. “Get me out of here!”

The guys make way as we get closer. Titus slinks to the very edge of the wet sand and stares down. “How did you not see this? It’s clearly darker here.”

Nick shakes his head, eyes bulging with fear. “I — I don’t know. But I gotta get out.” His legs and hips are buried, so all I can see are his chest, arms, and head. The more he squirms, the farther down he sinks. My stomach tightens and I suddenly feel like it’s hard to breathe. Like it’s not Nick down in that sand, but me. This morning, he beat that Pandora like it was nothing, but I can’t watch another person die.

“Help him,” I beg Titus. “Please.”

He glances at me from the corner of his eye, his face pinched with disgust. It’s like he hates that I care.

“We need all the hands we can get if we’re going to win.” I pull myself up like I’m strategizing. I can’t say I’m joining the Triggers — Titus wouldn’t believe it — but I can let him read into my statement and form his own conclusion.

A slow smile splits his mouth. He waves a hand toward the guy with long legs. “Get him out.”

Long Legs reaches his long arm toward Nick. Clearly relieved, Nick takes hold of his hand and pulls. Long Legs wobbles and nearly falls in until another guy grabs the back of his shirt. “You’re going to have to help me,” Long Legs tells the guy behind him. The guy nods and reaches out an arm, too. But even together, the two guys can’t seem to free Nick from the sand. As time wears on, and Nick sinks deeper, a hysterical sensation washes over me.

What if they can’t get him out?

They have to get him out!

“Let’s try the Pandoras,” I tell Titus, worried his patience is wearing thin. I’m afraid of drawing attention to Madox, of involving him in anything that could put him in harm’s way. But I know I can’t let this person die. Not like this. Not when he’s screaming in a way that makes my skin crawl.

Titus glances over his shoulder at the Pandoras and back at Nick, who’s now immersed up to the bottom of his chest. Nick cocks his head like he knows what’s coming. “No,” Titus says. “He let your little friend with the bird kill his Pandora. Why should I risk the rest to save him?”

Even half buried, Nick looks furious. And when I think of Madox behind me, I know why. Losing my Pandora would crush me. I rip my arm away from Titus and lean over to help Nick. Maybe he’s the way he is because of Titus. Maybe there’s still good I can dig out of him. But whether there is or isn’t, I’m going to help him.

Before I can offer Nick my hand, the large guy — the one who sleeps curled in a ball — stops me.

“Let me,” he says. I look in his soft brown eyes and some of my fear dissipates. He’s built like an SUV, and his head is shaved to the scalp. When I glance at the hand covering my arm, I find it’s as wide as a toaster, and that his nails are manicured to perfection, like maybe this Godzilla hit a salon before entering the race.

Stepping back, I allow him to edge closer. He reaches his salami of an arm toward Nick, and Nick grabs hold.

“On three,” Godzilla says.

Nick nods.

“One …”

“You ask me, he deserves being stuck in that sand,” someone pipes in.

“Two …”

“Touching Titus’s girl that way.”

“Three.”

Godzilla starts to pull at the exact moment that Titus barrels forward. I move to stop him, but it’s like standing in front of a cannon. Titus shoves me to the ground and slams into the guy who has great nails. The big guy hardly moves, but it’s enough to cause him to lose his grip of Nick’s hand. Titus jabs his boot out and places it on top of Nick’s scalp. Without a word, he pushes the guy’s head downward.

Nick’s chest plunges under the sloshing sand, then his arms. His shoulders. Nick shouts, and I scurry along the ground toward Titus’s legs, trying to tackle him. To push him into the quicksand. Something. But the big guy grabs me and tugs me to his chest.

“Stop it,” he says quietly. “Stop making a scene.” Then he wraps his enormous hand around my face so that I can’t see.

I don’t have to see, though. Because I can hear. I can hear the way Nick begs. The way he explains his allegiance and that he never meant to touch me. But his pleas must not douse Titus’s anger. Because the next thing I hear is the gurgling sound Nick makes when his leader pushes him the rest of the way under.

And then I hear nothing.

The guy covering my eyes pulls his hand away. Titus stands near the edge of the quicksand, staring at the ground like he can’t believe what he just did. He glances up at the six of us and tries to offer an explanation. “He touched Tella,” he says, focusing his attention on me. “He grabbed you or something.”

He’s waiting for me to agree. But I don’t. I can’t even see him through the tears.

“He would have hurt you.” He points a limp finger at me. “Probably would’ve forced himself on you. You saw how he treated the Pandoras.”

Titus nods to himself and takes a deep breath, his chest expanding. He tilts his head up and gazes at the sky. Then he peers off to his right. “Would you look at that,” he says, flicking his wrist at something in the distance and grinning wide. “A flag!”

After we leave the quicksand, I lose touch with reality. Thoughts of Levi and Dink and Nick swirl in my head like a demonic merry-go-round. Titus leads us to the flag so he can remove it and tie it around his bicep. It’s everything I can do to keep walking. To will my body forward.

Godzilla walks behind me. Every few minutes, he touches my lower back. I’m not sure why because I’m not thinking clearly. I just know it’s the only thing that reminds me of where I am, and that this is real. And that Titus actually killed one of his own.

Madox keeps close by. He glances up at me, and his ears perk when he thinks I’m going to acknowledge him. But I never do. I can’t even feel the ever-present ache in my muscles anymore. It’s like my entire body has gone numb.

When the night falls and Titus finally stops, all I can think of is one person — Guy. Where he is now. What he’s doing.

If he’s coming for me.

He’s here to save his cousin. So I’m not sure where that leaves us, especially now. Still, I have to believe that what I felt between us is not just circumstantial. That even though he’s here for family, he wouldn’t leave me out here with Titus.

I have to believe.

Titus sends his bear to gather food for dinner, and the guys work on building a fire. Turns out Godzilla used to be a Boy Scout and knows how to do such things. It takes him about eighty-seven tries, but he finally gets a small spark to ignite between his blade, a dark rock, and a handful of mossy foliage.

“Fire!” Titus roars, laughing from deep in his gut.

I have no idea what’s so funny, and I have no idea why these idiots follow him so blindly.

“You know, Tella,” Titus says. “I was never a big fan of fire before Brimstone. I was terrified of it, actually. So wild and unpredictable. But I tell you what, I’ve learned to respect it. Now, water? That’s something I’ve loved all my life. My old man said I was born with fins. Said even when I was a kid, I took to the sea like a shark. Hammerhead, that’s what he called me. ’Cause hammerhead is a type of shark, and he said I wasn’t keen on listening.” He knocks on his head with a closed fist. “Hardheaded, I guess.”

I try to pretend I’m listening. That I care. But it’s hard to keep up a facade when all I want to do is wrap my hands around his throat.

Titus unscrews his canteen and drinks for several seconds. The guys around him take the cue to drink as well. My throat burns thinking about water, but I refuse to ask for my own bottle back.

“Here,” he says, handing me his canteen. “Have a drink. We can save yours for tomorrow.”

I snatch it away like a wild animal and drink until it’s gone. Titus doesn’t stop me.

“See, everyone loves water best. You just have to be reminded why.” A smile plays on his lips, and my insides churn. “Let’s hit the hay, shall we?”

It takes everything I have to nod.

Titus moves closer and sits next to me. The guys stay on the other side of the crackling fire, far away from us. I steal a glance at Godzilla — who I’ve learned is named Braun — and the overgrown pink pig at his side. I’d assumed the Pandora was one they stole from another Contender, but I was mistaken. Because Braun keeps an eye on that pig like I do Madox. It’s a funny sight, seeing a guy as large as Braun worried about a pig. Though it feels unnatural, I smile with one side of my mouth — and Braun smiles back.

“What are you smiling about?” Titus asks. I turn my head, and my smile drowns. He’s watching me the way Guy does. With questions lingering on his lips. But unlike Guy, he isn’t afraid to ask them. “Do you like the fire?”

I nod and run my hands over Madox, who’s curled in my lap. Now that he’s near me, I feel better. Though most of that security is canceled out with Titus so close. Looking at my small fox, I wonder why he hasn’t done anything to get me away from Titus. I reason it’s probably because the guy doesn’t intend to harm me, that he only wants me to join them.

“Why do you want me to join your group?” I ask suddenly.

Titus tilts his head back, like he’s surprised I asked. “It’s hardly a group after today,” he says, laughing. “We’re down to seven, counting you.”

My face must show my revulsion, because he coughs into his hand and says, “Bad joke.”

I’m surprised that Titus is aware that what he did was wrong. It’s like he’s two different people: one who’s rational and intelligent, and another who reacts on raw emotion without thinking.

Looking at him now, I wonder if he knows about the Brimstone Bleed the way Guy does. I consider asking him. But, no, I decide. I don’t think he does, and I won’t risk revealing what I do know, which is really just bits and pieces of a story I don’t understand.

I breathe in and the smoke rolling off the fire fills my nose. For a moment, it brings me home to my parents’ house.

“You remember that night after our Pandoras got into a skirmish?”

I’d hardly call it a skirmish, but I decide to play along and nod.

“You didn’t like the way my Pandora ate or something.” He smiles at me like we’ve been married for ten years and he’s recalling our first kiss. “You really went off about it. You got in my face and just went crazy. And as I was watching you get so upset about everything, I said to myself, There’s a girl that’s got fire. With that Pandora of hers, she just might win this thing.” Titus licks his thumb and rubs a blotch of dried quicksand off his boot.

“When I saw your fox fight and change like he does, I thought he might be the best Pandora out there. But I figured you wouldn’t be strong enough to survive the race even with a creature like that. Then I saw you that night, though, rage and fear in your eyes and this little feather in your hair.” He pauses and touches my feather. I try not to cringe. “I knew I had to partner with you. That I had to —” Titus glances at my lips and I realize he’s too close. Way too close. “That I had to be with you.”

He leans in and a million thoughts flood my mind. Things like:

Do I let him kiss me so he believes I’m not a threat?

Do I slap his face and drag my nails across his cheek?

Would his lips feel like Guy’s?

Guy.

“Hey, Titus.” I hear someone say. Titus swears loudly and shoots a death stare at the speaker — Braun. “Just wanted to let you know AK-7 is back with dinner.”

Titus sighs heavily and rolls his wrist. “Well, then, bring that fat bear over here.”

I breathe out and curl into myself with relief.

I almost kissed someone I’d like to kill.

Inside my head, I scream.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I’m still reeling from my near kiss with a murderer when Braun returns. The enormous guy has Titus’s Pandora at his heel. Between the grizzly’s jaws is something that looks like a spotted dog. Titus claps his hands and says we’ll eat like kings, that this doesn’t look half bad. I flinch and look away. No matter how long this race wears on, I’ll never get used to seeing my food whole. When I get home, I may never eat meat again. Vegetarian or bust.

After the guys have cleaned and cooked the animal, they offer Titus and me a generous portion. I take it, close my eyes, and chew as quickly as I can. The meal tastes bland and tough, and has the distinct flavor only burned meat does. When I’m done eating as much as I can force down, I offer a large piece to Madox. My fox looks me over like he’s making sure I’m satisfied, then takes the food from my hand and chows down.

“I can’t believe you do that,” Titus sneers. “Feed that thing.”

“They get hungry, just like us,” I answer, keeping my eyes on Madox.

“But they’re built to survive without it.”

“How do you know?”

“Look at my bear,” he says. “It’s the same size it was weeks ago. It hasn’t lost an ounce. Me, on the other hand, I’m fading in the wind.”

Glancing at Titus’s swollen muscles and large frame, I find it hard to believe he’s lost weight. But his face does appear thinner than it did in the jungle. And my waist and hips have never been this narrow. Inspecting Madox closer, I notice he does seem to be the same size. But when I watch him eating the meat, I know he’s happy.

“They enjoy eating, otherwise your bear wouldn’t have eaten that rabbit in the jungle.”

Titus laughs and points a finger at me. “See, you even know what kind of animal it was. You remember that moment.”

Rolling my eyes, I stand up. I’m not sure if what I’m about to do is just to piss Titus off, but once I’ve decided I’m doing it, I can’t stop. Grabbing a hunk of meat off the cooked dog — and nearly gagging — I move toward the Pandoras and provide them each a piece. Most turn away and refuse to eat it. But that’s fine, because what I’m doing is more of a statement. These creatures help us, and we need to treat them with respect. I give Braun a piece and he passes it to his pig, all while keeping an eye on Titus.

Finally, I get to AK-7. The bear sits on the ground with his paws in the sand. I step closer to him, and my heart pounds. Out of all the Pandoras, he’s the one I’m most afraid of. This is Titus’s animal, and there’s no telling what it’s been trained to do. I bring my hand up and the bear recoils like I’m going to hit him. When I see him pull back, my chest aches. I kneel down in front of the bear and Madox whines behind me.

“Here,” I say, holding the meat out.

“Get away from my Pandora, Tella,” Titus says slowly, evenly. “You can play nice with the other ones, but that there’s mine.”

The bear watches Titus speaking over my shoulder, his eyes shifting back and forth between the two of us. I drop the meat between his legs and back away. The creature glances down at the food, then up at me with something that looks like disbelief. But that can’t be.

Can it?

“Don’t you eat that, AK-7. You hunt for yourself if you’re hungry,” Titus says.

I spin around and square my shoulders. “Let him eat if he wants to. God, Titus. For once, just be a human being and have some compassion.”

Titus’s eyes widen like he’s surprised I just said that. But then his face changes, darkens. He jumps to his feet and races forward. I cower, expecting him to strike me. But he flies past and slaps the piece of meat from the bear’s paw.

“I told you, no,” Titus yells in the Pandora’s face.

All my anger toward him boils over. Before I can think, I shove Titus as hard as I can. He stumbles, trips over the bear’s leg, and hits the ground. From across the fire, I see Braun stand up. The other guys stay put, waiting to see what happens.

“Don’t scream at him,” I yell. “Scream at me if you’re so pissed.” I hit my chest. “Scream at me.”

Titus pulls himself up and kicks his bear’s leg out of the way. The bear scoots backward and lowers his head.

I ready myself for a fight, but Titus only smiles. “See what I mean?” he roars. “That’s the fire I’ve been talking about!” In a heartbeat, he crosses the distance between us and slams his mouth over mine. I place my palms against his chest and push like I did before, back in the jungle. But this time, he doesn’t budge. His tongue slides across my lips, and my scream comes out muffled. Grabbing at my back and waist, he tugs me closer until I feel him press against my pelvis. Because I can’t shove him away, I come up with another plan. I’m going to bite his tongue off. I feel the wet slick of it against my mouth, and this time, I open my lips to grant it access.

Titus groans.

“The device,” someone calls out. “The device is blinking.”

Titus pulls away from me, breathing hard. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, completely unaware of how close he just came to losing his tongue. A smile crawls across his face, and I try with everything I have to pretend it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. To not show my horror.

To not give away that I will flee. Tonight.

The guy strides to our side of the campsite, holding his device up as evidence. When I look away from Titus, I’m surprised to find Braun nearby, shades of fury stretched across his face. His pig is at his side, grunting and raising its nose into the air.

Was he about to help me again? I wonder.

There’s something in Braun’s eyes that tells me he isn’t like the rest. Already, he’s done two things to aid me: He held me as Titus killed Nick, and he interrupted Titus’s kiss. I wonder what else he’s willing to do.

I startle when I see a second pig nearby. It’s identical to Braun’s, but this one’s eyes are emerald green. If Braun wasn’t about to help me, Madox sure as hell was. I almost laugh seeing my fox as a pig. Almost.

Titus digs his device out of his pocket and places it into his ear. The rest of the guys follow suit.

“Give me mine,” I say.

Titus pushes the red button and listens.

“Give me my device,” I repeat, louder.

He holds his hand up and makes a face like I’m annoying. But he has no idea how annoying I’ll become if I don’t get that device. I stop bugging him when I notice the way Titus’s face changes. The way his eyes widen and his mouth goes slack.

“What is it?” I ask. “What’s she saying?”

The other four guys come to join Titus, Braun, and me. They eye the stolen Pandoras. And they eye Madox. A clap of fear strikes through me, and I move to stand in front of my fox/pig.

The guy with long legs and big shoulders pulls out his switchblade and thumbs the knife into place.

“Now hold on,” Titus says. “We’re going to do this real calm like.”

But there’s nothing calm about the way Long Legs creeps toward the Pandoras. And now the guys behind him are pulling out their own knives.

“What’s happening, Titus?” I reach for my knife, which of course isn’t there. “What are they doing?”

“I said, wait,” Titus barks.

The guys still don’t listen. Long Legs lets out this strangled cry and races toward the Pandoras. He moves quickly, so quickly, madness dancing on his face in the fire’s glow. In two calculated movements, he pulls his knife into the air, then drives it into the belly of a Pandora.

The Pandora — a llama — cries in pain and trots in circles, blood painting the sand.

Behind Long Legs, the other guys spring into action. They dart toward the creatures, their knives flashing. But this time, the Pandoras know what’s coming. They bolt into the cold night — wings beating, hooves thumping. I almost whoop with joy when Harper’s eagle flies into the air and vanishes. The guys pursue the Pandoras as Titus screams.

“I told you to tie them up,” he yells. “Every damn night! Tie the Pandoras up before you eat! How hard is that?” Titus paces, hands in his hair. “Now what are we going to do? What are we going to do?”

Moments later, the guys return. They pant and bend over to catch their breaths as I try to figure out why they’re killing the Pandoras. But they’re not trying to hurt all the Pandoras. Just the stolen ones. All that’s left now are our own. Slowly, Long Legs raises his head. His eyes fall on something lying on the ground. My muscles clench when I realize what it is.

I thought all the stolen Pandoras had flown. But I was wrong.

There’s one left.

Levi’s ram.

Instinctually, I race toward it, silently begging Madox to follow. My Pandora stays right by my side as I throw myself in front of G-6.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I snarl. “But you won’t touch this creature.” Braun moves toward me, and I jab a finger in his direction. “I’ll ask my Pandora to change. He can mimic anything your Pandoras can do. And he will kill you. To hurt this ram, you’ll have to hurt me. And then my fox will kill you.” I hold both my hands up in front of me, hoping that what I’m saying is true.

“Tella.” Titus says my name like I’ve lost my mind. “Don’t be unreasonable. There are six of us, and we each have Pandoras. We can get past you. And we can get past it.” He nods toward Madox.

I nearly scream when a ball of gray rolls next to my boot and into the firelight. Everyone stops and looks down. Titus cocks his head. “What the hell is that?” he says.

The ball of gray unravels and spikes shoot out from its fur.

“It’s my Pandora, asshole,” Ransom says, stepping into view. “And the girl’s right. You’re not killing that ram. Over my dead body.”

When I see Ransom so close by, the knife in his hand and the resolve on his face — my heart leaps. My plan was to flee tonight as the guys slept. But now is even better. I step closer to Ransom and we exchange looks. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to know we’re on the same page. That we’re going to get Levi’s ram and get the hell out of here.

“You’re crazy if you think you’re leaving with that Pandora,” Long Legs says.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m not,” Ransom answers.

“For crying out loud, can we stop making empty threats?” Titus grins like this is the most fun he’s had all year. “Get this joker out of here.”

The guys charge us. I think their goal is to hurt Ransom, but they seem much more interested in DN-99, the little raccoon who could. One guy chases the Pandora around the blaze, and in the blink of an eye, DN-99 burrows beneath the sand and is gone. The creature reappears seconds later beneath the guy’s feet. Spikes spring out from the Pandora’s coat and jab into his boots. The guy hollers in pain and falls to the ground. He tugs his boots off and inspects the damage.

Upon seeing this, the other Triggers become more agitated. They watch as the raccoon disappears once again. And then they wait.

DN-99 bursts from the ground beneath another guy’s feet, and down he falls.

“He’s like a land mine,” I tell Ransom.

“That he is.” Ransom smiles in my direction, and I’m so happy, I almost don’t see a third guy storming toward me. Luckily, Madox does.

Stop him! I think, though I have no idea how Madox could do that.

My fox — dressed as a pig — races in front of me and oinks insistently. Surprisingly, the guy stops, knife-wielding arm suspended in the air. He meets the pig’s eyes dead on, and when he does, an empty expression crosses his face. Then he brings the knife down and points the tip beneath his own chin. Even though the guy doesn’t seem to understand what’s happening, his whole body shakes with fear. The knife digs into his neck and a trickle of blood escapes the wound.

Understanding crashes over me. “Madox, stop.”

My Pandora backs away, and I back away with him. When Madox breaks eye contact, the guy shakes his head like he’s confused. It’s like he doesn’t remember that a pig just mind freaked his ass.

Hearing a loud squealing sound, I spin around. The guy without boots is trying to plunge his blade into Madox. But my Pandora is too quick for him. And now he’s got a pissed-off Contender joining the fight.

I leap on the guy’s back and dig my fingers into his eyes. The guy howls with pain. My attack ends early when a pair of hands wraps around my waist and throws me to the ground. The guy who assaulted me hurdles over my body and chases after Madox. Everywhere I look, the same thing is happening. Titus is trying to slaughter Braun’s Pandora, and Braun is trying to fight him off. Two more guys are crawling after Madox — one on his hands and knees with bloodied feet, and another on two legs. A fifth guy is scurrying after the raccoon, and the last person is wrestling with Ransom over G-6.

With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I grab on to a guy’s arm and wrestle him for the knife. There is a moment, as I’m fighting for the blade, when I remember that I own a green, rhinestone-encrusted hoodie that says GIRLS DON’T FIGHT. THEY FLAUNT. I’m wondering if it’s still in my closet when the guy pops me in the side of the head.

The world goes blurry.

When I clear my eyes, I notice Ransom has beaten back his attacker. He has one hand around the rope attached to G-6 and his raccoon by his side. All three look ready to retreat. But there’s a problem.

Me.

Ransom tilts his head and a pained look crosses his face. I know what he’s thinking. He came to rescue his brother’s Pandora. After that, he’s here for his sister. He also knows if he stays, he’s sacrificing his sister. The girl who loves her boyfriend and mood rings and hard-to-find mint cases. And her brothers. One of whom is dead.

“Go,” I say. When Ransom doesn’t budge, I scream so loud, my throat burns. “Go! Get away from me!”

He takes a few steps back, but looks confused.

“God, Ransom. Get the hell away!” I yell with conviction. Like I’ve got a plan that doesn’t involve him. “You’re screwing everything up. Go!”

Something seems to click inside his head. He turns and races into the desert. The guys move to go after him, but I throw myself in their paths. I punch groins and bite into arms and grab ahold of legs and don’t let go. I do anything I can to slow them down. And they, in turn, grace me with heavy blows. But not too heavy, because Titus is watching.

“Stop,” Long Legs says. “That punk is gone. He’s gone.”

“Could’ve predicted that.” Titus brushes off his shirt, unruffled. “That’s what happens when there’s no structure.” He looks at his crew. “Complete idiots.”

“The woman said we have to —” someone begins.

“I know what she said,” Titus interrupts.

Long Legs looks at Madox, his lips curled back. “I’m going to get the shape changer. The rest of you do another one.”

“I don’t think so,” another guys barks. “We’re not going to fight each other while you wrestle with the girl.”

“I should get the shape changer,” someone else says. “I always take the smallest portion of food. I complain the least. I’m owed this.”

My adrenaline slowly reveals itself for what it is — fear. Why did I tell Ransom to go? What was I thinking? Hoping they won’t notice, I take small steps backward. If I can get a head start while they’re quarreling, then maybe I can escape. I take another step, then another. The guys’ voices raise and they move toward one another.

“Maybe I should take out your Pandora,” one says to another. “You’ve always been a pain in my ass.”

“Oh, so you’re a tough guy now?” the guy responds. “Try it and see what happens.”

“Both of you shut up,” a new voice growls.

“Don’t tell me to shut up. You’re the one always running your mouth.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

I steal another few steps. Then two more. Then three.

Finally, after enough verbal threats, someone throws a punch. Before I can think, the guys are rolling over one another in the sand, growling and kicking and throwing blows. I don’t wait. I know I have to bolt.

Right.

Now.

Spinning around, I manage four long strides before I slam into something solid.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Titus whispers. He jabs his knife toward my stomach. The point breaks the skin and keeps me from moving for fear of making it worse. “If you’re smart, you won’t say a word. You’ll just circle around me real slow-like and start walking.”

Even though I’m a few paces from the fire, there’s enough light to see Titus’s face … and the grizzly bear looming behind him. I nod my head like I understand what he’s telling me. My heart feels like it’s going to explode as I circle around him. I arch my back when I feel the knife slide between my shoulder blades. And then we walk.

Titus forces me to travel quickly, almost at a jog. It isn’t long before I can’t see anything at all. My terror builds until I can hardly stand. Titus doesn’t want me dead. He wants me to join him in this race. Titus doesn’t want me dead. I repeat this over and over in my head, though it does nothing to slow my pulse.

Below me, I can hear Madox whining. He must have changed back into his fox form. I know he wants to do something to help, but he must realize how risky it’d be to try anything while there’s a knife pressed against my back.

Titus talks to me the entire way, though I don’t start listening until now.

“I know you understand what I’m saying,” he coos. “This will only work if we’re alone. Those morons wouldn’t know how to find the Cure if someone sewed it to their foreheads.”

His free hand brushes the back of my neck, and I shudder.

“You’ll see that this is for the best. Just you and me, Tella. Just me and my girl.”

I hear something. It’s a rhythmic sound. The sound of something hitting the ground over and over. Footsteps!

Titus’s knife pulls away from my back. I spin around and my arms flail. Then fire floods my vision. In that moment, I see three things. A lion. A sociopath flat on his back.

And Guy, vengeance burning in his eyes.

The flames vanish and I hear the unmistakable sound of fist meeting muscle and tissue and bone. Titus screams and calls out for his Pandora to help. Another bolt of fire shatters the night and I see Madox biting into Titus’s flesh, releasing built-up fury. I grab my fox around the middle and pull him away. Before the light vanishes for the second time, I also see Titus’s bear swiping his enormous paw at M-4. In the pitch-dark, I hear the bear’s roar.

What I don’t hear is Titus.

“Guy?” I ask, setting Madox down.

Two strong arms pull me into an embrace. He says quickly, “Tella, you have to run. Base camp is on the other side of the rocks. I know it.” He pauses. “Have you killed one yet? A Pandora?”

“Why would I do that?” But as soon as I say it, I know. My teeth snap together.

“It’s a requirement to get into base camp. To continue the race.” Guy sucks in a sharp breath. “We’ll figure out something for you. But for now I need you to go. The Triggers are following Titus. And I have to hold them off.”

“I won’t leave you,” I say, tears breaking my voice.

“Yes, you will. If you stay, I’ll be too busy worrying about you to defend myself. And I’ll get hurt. Do you want that?”

I shake my head.

“Tella, you have to answer aloud. I can’t see you well enough.”

“No,” I say through my tears. “I don’t want you to get hurt. But I don’t want to be away from you again.”

That’s not all I’m thinking, though. I’m also thinking, This is a race. What if Guy is making choices based on saving his cousin, and this is one of those choices? And then I think, Cody. I don’t know what to do. My head is spinning and I don’t know what to do. Stay or go, stay or go?!

And then —

Guy pulls my face close and searches for my lips. When our mouths find each other, my body explodes with pleasure. I don’t ever want him to stop kissing me. I don’t ever want him to let go. But he pulls away. And I soon learn why. I can hear the sounds of approaching footsteps. The same sound I heard when Guy was closing in, but this time, it’s louder. There are more of them — five of them — and two of us.

“Go,” Guy says. “Go now.”

“Promise I’ll see you at base camp.” I grab his hand. “Swear it.”

“You will see me. Now run. Hurry!”

I turn and race into the desert with Madox at my side, my heart breaking with every step. Behind me, I can still hear the sounds of a lion and grizzly in battle.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

When I wake up, my body feels broken. Like maybe I swallowed glass, lit myself on fire, and leapt off a bridge. Though not necessarily in that order. Reaching a hand out, I find Madox and pull him against me. His body wiggles side to side and his ears press against his head.

Pulling myself up, I realize Guy would be disappointed in how I slept — sprawled out in the middle of the sand. No fire. No foliage bedding. But last night, I couldn’t help it. When Guy told me to run — I ran. I ran until I couldn’t feel my legs. Until I was sure my lungs would implode. And then I collapsed.

My eyes burn as I think about Guy. About how he saved me from Titus. And how he took on the rest of the Triggers once I fled. Though I know he’s right, that I may have gotten in the way, I feel disgusted with myself for leaving him, even if it was for Cody. When I think about how he may be back there, hurt, it’s all I can do not to scream.

“Maybe we should go back,” I tell Madox.

Though I know he doesn’t understand me, my fox grunts like I’m crazy. And maybe I am, because I’m seeing a flashing light that can’t be real. Pressing a flat hand against my forehead to shield my eyes, I look closer. There it is again. A quick flash — flash, flash — flash.

When Madox cocks his head in the direction of the light, I know it’s not a mirage. Standing up — and nearly buckling from pain and dehydration — I move in the direction of the sparkle. I try to imagine what I’m seeing and decide it must be a Contender. That perhaps it’s the glint of a knife in the sun. Or even a canteen.

Finding someone with a canteen is more than enough motivation to start hiking, but then I remember something else. Something Olivia said at the start of the desert race:

This canteen could be used as a signal to each other. Wouldn’t that be cool?

Once the seed of hope is planted, it starts to grow. And grow. And grow, until the legs beneath me begin moving faster. Could it be one of the Contenders from my group? Do they remember what Olivia said, like I do? Soon, I’m running toward the glinting light, my boots kicking up clouds of sand. Madox trots beside me, jaw hanging open as he pants.

Please don’t stop, I pray. Keep showing me where you are.

At last, after running for what feels like half an hour, I come upon a tree. It’s one of the largest I’ve seen in the desert. And it actually has leaves that grow green in the blistering sun. Beneath the tree’s bough, I spot someone leaning against the trunk. I slow my pace and creep closer. I’m out in the open and there’s no way I’ll see them — hidden by the shade — before they see me. But I can’t be afraid. So I take a breath, stand tall, and walk toward them.

While I can’t make out what the person looks like, I can pinpoint the moment they turn in my direction and straighten.

“I’ll be damned,” a female voice croaks. “It’s Dorothy and her little dog, too.”

I don’t need to hear more than that. And I don’t need to see the person. I know exactly who this is.

“This girl and her dog are coming to save your rear,” I tell Harper.

“Thank God you’re okay.” She hangs her head and sighs heavily. “I didn’t know what Titus would do to you.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. And Titus didn’t do much,” I tell her as I plop down. “Just psychoed out a few times before Guy got there.” I refrain from telling her about Nick, about the fact that Titus moved from creeper category to killer.

“So Guy made it.” There’s a look of regret in her eyes, and I want to tell her it’s fine. But I don’t. Because the truth is I’m a little curious as to why they didn’t all come. So I just look her in the eye and nod. “And Titus?” she asks. “Is he still —”

“Yeah,” I answer, glancing over my shoulder. “I think that freak’s still out there.”

She leans toward me, a new look on her face. “Do you have any water?”

I shake my head. “Guessing you don’t, either.”

Harper presses her lips together in frustration. I take that as a no.

I look her up and down and decide it’s time to confront the obvious. That she’s not wearing a shirt. Just sitting beneath the tree in her pink bra. “Going streaking later?” I’m joking with her, but all I want to do is squeeze her into a hug and never let go. Titus made it seem like she was dead. But I was sure she wasn’t. Not Harper. Not the girl I saw fight like a gladiator. Finding her here, however impossible it feels, is a stroke of good luck I’m not about to question.

My friend pulls her arm up and I notice a white shirt wrapped around her right forearm. It’s spotted with blood. I gasp, and then reach to inspect her wound. She pulls her arm back against her before I can try and help.

“From when the Triggers attacked us?” I ask.

She nods. “From the night Dink died.”

A lump forms in my throat. One I can’t quite swallow down. “He was a Pandora. The whole time, he was a Pandora.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Guy told us what he did. I don’t blame him. Something was wrong with the boy. The Creators went too far. Trying to make a Pandora that looked and worked like a human? It’s disgusting.”

“Caroline?” I ask.

“After we fought off the Triggers, and she saw him …” Harper shakes her head. “She was inconsolable. I mean, we could tell she knew he was a Pandora. He must have hatched from the egg she chose, for crying out loud. But I think she started to think of him as her son or something. Maybe it’s why she never told us.”

I run a hand over my curls, which have grown longer since the start of the race. “Where is she? Where is everyone?”

“Caroline took off. Wouldn’t let anyone follow her. Then Guy left, saying he was going to find you, that he couldn’t have the rest of us slowing him down.” Harper licks her dry, cracked lips. “Guess he really meant Olivia. But that’s okay. She has Jaxon, who acts like her friggin’ father. That’s why I had to leave. I couldn’t be around that. Not alone.”

I zero in on the fact that Guy wanted to find me on his own. Insisted on it. That makes me feel better about the others’ not coming for me. I mean, I know we’re here for our families and friends back home, but thinking they’d left me with the Triggers hurt. I watch Harper pull into herself. She doesn’t want me to ask what she means about not traveling with Jaxon. So I don’t. Instead, I ready myself to ask why she’s here, under this tree. But she beats me to the punch.

“Tella, do you think …” She pauses. “Do you think you could help me?”

“Of course. I’m not going to leave you. I’d never do that.” Not like I did to Guy is what I think to myself. I go to slide my arm beneath her, but she stops me.

“That’s not what I mean.” Harper scoots away and points at the rock formations, which are now only a few hundred yards away. “My Pandora is up there. I heard her last night, screeching. I know that sound. I know her sound. She’s caught up there somehow and I can’t climb up and get her.” She raises her injured arm as proof. Then she looks at me with such desperation that my stomach churns. “Could you go and get her for me? Please, Tella?”

I listen to Harper as she begs me to rescue her eagle. As she explains that she won’t have a chance to win without her. And that I’m not so stupid for naming my Pandora, because RX-13 is pretty awesome.

Guy said base camp was right on the other side of the rock formations. I have no idea how he knows that, but I trust him. And that means base camp is so close that I could have a chance at arriving first. I can’t know for sure, but I haven’t seen any other Contenders passing us. Not like I did in the jungle.

Five years.

I could give Cody five healthy years.

If I tell Harper no — that I’m here for my brother — I could keep him alive. But then I remember something else Guy told me — that I have to kill a Pandora to continue the race. My stomach sinks just thinking about completing the task.

I quickly decide to help Harper, because I can’t not help her. And because her strength will help when it comes time for me to … destroy … a Pandora. Part of me wants to ask if she’s already killed one. But right now she’s staring at me, waiting for an answer.

Nodding, I wrap my hands around her upper arms. “I’ll go and get your eagle. You walk with me to the formations and then wait while I go up.”

Harper’s face pulls together like she’s going to cry. But, of course, she doesn’t. She just waves me away like, How dare you make me emotional, and drags herself to her feet. I loop my arm around her waist and again she shoves me off. “I’m not crippled,” she says. And then quieter, “Thank you, Tella.”

Though the formations are close, it takes a while to get there. We both have to stop often; Harper because of the pain in her arm, and me because I feel damaged all over. But eventually, at snail’s pace, we arrive.

Harper humphs, and I ask what she’s humphing about.

She pats her hand against the stone. “It’s not so big up close. You’d think as we got nearer, it’d get bigger. But turns out, it’s not that high.”

“Maybe they looked so big from afar because there was nothing else to look at,” I say. She nods like this is true, but I can tell she’s distracted. “It’s okay, Harper. I’ll be up and down in no time.”

Looking up, I imagine I believe what I’m saying. The closest formation can’t be any more than forty feet high — about the equivalent of a four-story building. And I’ve become quite the athlete over the last several weeks. Climbing up should be no problem. But glancing at Madox, I realize I’ll have to leave him behind. I know I won’t be long, but it still makes me nervous to go anywhere without him.

“Will you watch him?” I ask.

Harper wraps her arms around her slender waist. “Of course. Just be careful.”

“Nah, I’m gonna intentionally try to get myself killed.” I grab hold of a rock and bring my boot up onto the first flat surface I find. Behind me, I feel Harper slip something into my back pocket. “Harper?”

“That’s my switchblade,” she says. “I sharpened it while I was sitting there all night. I’ll bet yours is about as dull as a butter knife.”

I don’t tell her the truth. That I lost my knife to Titus. I just reach out again, and pull myself up.

“Tella,” Harper says suddenly, loudly.

“Harper,” I mimic. “I’m scaling a mountainesque object, so can you not scream my name?”

“I hardly screamed it.” Though I can’t see her, I know she’s rolling her eyes. “And anyway, all I was going to say was that while you climb that thing, I’m going to trek around it. Then you can come down the opposite side and we’ll save time.”

“But you don’t know how thick this thing is.” I grunt like Braun’s pig as I find another handhold and ascend higher. “What if we get separated?”

“I can’t just stand here all day.” Harper doesn’t say anything for a minute. When she finally speaks again, she says, “I’m going to do it. See you on the other side.”

At this point, I’m not about to argue. Or explain how I haven’t killed a Pandora. I’m about five feet off the ground. I need to cease talking and start focusing. So I do just that. I look up the side of the formation. I fill my lungs.

And I climb.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

I’ve almost gone into cardiac arrest by the time I near the top of the formation. Heights have never been an issue for me. But I guess that was before I decided to go rock climbing with no training, little sleep, and severe dehydration.

Running my hands over the ledge, I grab hold of a fist-sized stone and flip myself over the side. Then I lie on my back and wheeze like a pack-a-day smoker. I decide I might take up smoking after this thing is over. And any other recreational drug that’ll help me forget the things I’ve seen. On second thought, drugs make you ugly. Scratch that. I pledge to get weekly massages instead.

After catching my breath, I get to my feet and realize the formation isn’t all that wide. It’s maybe five football fields long, but only about thirty feet across. Overhead, the sky is a crisp shade of blue. And from here, the sun seems even bigger, like it’s preparing to swallow me whole. I smell fresh soil and the faint scent of metal. It’s refreshing, considering the only thing I’ve smelled in days is BO. Plenty of it mine. Superhot.

Carefully, I cross the distance to the other side of the formation, and look out across the desert. A tidal wave of excitement rushes through my body. There, on the horizon, is base camp. Torches are lit in a circle and small huts dot the interior. My eyes widen when I notice green grass growing within and around the camp. But that can’t be possible unless …

And then I spot it.

Water.

A thin stream runs between the huts and past the circle of torches. My throat tightens just thinking about having a taste. For the past twenty-four hours, it’s felt like I’ve had cotton balls shoved into my mouth. And now I see so much water.

I’m so close, I realize. Maybe a half-hour walk. Fifteen minutes if I run.

Stepping closer to the ledge, I look again. Just as I suspected, I don’t see anyone walking around the camp. Sure, there could be people inside the huts. But something tells me there aren’t. Glancing down the side of the cliff, I wonder how quickly I could make it down.

I could win this leg.

I’m so close, I can taste it.

My heart sinks when I remember the promise I made Harper. I have to free her Pandora. And I will.

But then I will grab Madox and run.

Spinning around, I scour the formation, searching for RX-13. It doesn’t take long to find her. The rope that was tied around her left leg is tangled in some foliage growing between the stones. When the eagle spots me, she squawks and beats her wings.

“It’s okay, girl,” I say, bending over the Pandora. “I’m going to cut you loose.”

“No, you’re not,” a voice says from behind me. I bolt upright and goose bumps race along my arms. It’s him.

I reach for the blade in my back pocket, then slowly turn around.

Titus stands twenty feet away, his hair matted with blood, face swollen and bruised. “We’re going to need that Pandora.”

I back up so that I’m blocking Harper’s eagle. My mind spins with surprise, but one thing remains clear — I can’t let him hurt RX-13. Though if it comes down to me against him, I’m not sure what I’ll do. He’s hurt, but so am I. And he easily has eighty pounds on me.

“Back away from her.” Titus tips the point of his knife toward himself. “We don’t want to hurt her quite yet. Unless you’re eager to get on with it.”

“What are you talking about?” I snarl. There’s no use pretending anymore. I hate Titus. And it’s high time he realizes that.

“Well, we each have to kill a Pandora that isn’t our own. So I’m going to kill that bird. And you’re going to kill mine.” He points over his shoulder, and I spot his bear on all fours some distance away.

AK-7 jerks his head like this is the first he’s hearing of this plan. Pain and anger fill the animal’s dark eyes, but mostly, the bear looks defeated.

“I’ve gotta tell ya, I’ve had nothing but good luck since that dick sucker punched me last night.” Titus squares his shoulders. “You know I could’ve taken him, right? I mean, if he’d fought fair?” He shakes his head. “Anyway, once my boys — sorry, my ex-boys — distracted Guy, I headed toward these rocks. And when I got here last night, I heard that bird making a racket. So I waited until morning so I could see, and I crawled my ass up here. And there” — he gestures toward RX-13 — “was a Pandora just waitin’ to be killed.”

Titus bites his bottom lip to hide a smile. “But you know what? Things just got better from there. Because right as I was about to slice that yappy bird’s head off, I saw your bitch friend beneath that tree. And then I look out across the desert, and you know who I saw?” He nods his head toward me and mouths the word you. “I couldn’t believe you were coming to find me.”

I toss the knife in my hand and catch it so that the blade faces downward. “I wasn’t coming to find you, Titus. I’d rather leap off the side of this thing than be anywhere near you.”

He tilts his head and shrugs. “That’s always an option.”

Titus strides toward me, his arms outstretched like he’s going to give me a hug. It’s a show of safety, but I don’t miss the knife still gripped in his palm. I take another step back and hear RX-13 shriek behind me. Without thinking, I glance over my shoulder to see what’s happened.

It’s a terrible move.

Titus crosses the distance between us. He grabs me around the middle and shoves his knife against my neck. “Always worried about those damn animals,” he growls, thrusting me against him. He looks me up and down, then meets my eyes. “It’s your Achilles’ heel, sweetheart. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get in our way. We’re partners, see? Now give me your knife.”

Gritting my teeth, I let him steal the blade from my hand. As soon as I release it, he spins me in front of him and presses his own knife against my back. Flashbacks of last night torture me. I can’t believe I’m in the exact same position again, Titus behind me with a weapon to my body. Again.

He shoves me toward AK-7 but keeps an arm around my waist. “Let’s get this over with.” Seeing us coming, the bear lifts his head. The creature’s ears perk, and he starts backing up. But Titus just moves faster and yells out, “Stop moving, AK-7. You stand still.”

Titus pushes me so I’m inches away from the bear. I can feel the grizzly’s breath hot against my face. The Pandora searches my face, then glances at Titus nervously. My head jerks back suddenly and I feel Titus’s hand beneath my neck. He presses his mouth against my cheek and says, “I’m going to help you win, Tella.” Then he slips a knife into my hand and closes my fist around it. “I want you to plunge this into my Pandora’s heart.”

AK-7 jerks backward, and Titus pushes me forward to match his steps. Then he slides the other knife up my back and presses it against the base of my scalp. “Kill my Pandora, or I’ll kill you.”

Ten minutes ago, I had thought I could win. That I could make it to base camp first. But now I realize it wouldn’t have mattered. I hadn’t killed a Pandora. And I’m not sure I can now. Or ever.

Titus guides my hand toward his Pandora, and the bear drops down on his haunches, like he’s already given up. I stifle a sob and look at the great beast before me. If Titus broke an animal this powerful, then how do I stand a chance against him? Feeling him behind me, I know my only chance to escape is to do as he says.

I don’t want to hurt AK-7, but this moment will last only minutes, maybe seconds. And I have to kill a Pandora if I want to continue the race. What if this is the only chance I get? What if saving the grizzly means killing my brother?

I move the knife slowly toward the bear. His eyes widen when he realizes I’m going to do it. But that doesn’t stop me. I move the knife closer — my hand shaking — and the bear groans deep in his throat. That doesn’t stop me, either. But when I spot the open wounds along the animal’s stomach — I freeze. Pus and blood ooze over his muzzle, and I imagine the things Titus has done to this creature. The animal who has protected him. The animal who didn’t ask to be born into this. Finally, I think of Cody, imagine he is here telling me what to do.

I raise the knife in my hand.

The Pandora closes his eyes.

And I drive the blade straight into Titus’s thigh.

The scream that erupts from him rattles me to my core. I feel him drop to the ground, and I don’t hesitate. I spin around and race toward the eagle. It takes longer than expected, but I’m finally able to pull her leg from the rope. The moment RX-13 is free, she spreads her wings and soars into the sky. She releases a wild call and dives down the side of the formation. Running to the ledge, I search for Harper.

She’s there! Oh my God. I can see her!

“Harper,” I scream.

She whips her head in my direction, and when she sees her eagle, she offers her uninjured arm as a perch. The Pandora lands gracefully. I expect her to ask me what’s happening. To say she heard someone scream. But she doesn’t. She just looks at me for a moment, glances at base camp — and starts racing toward it.

“Harper, no!” I yell in a panic. “I need help. Titus is up here.”

She stops dead and whirls around. Though she’s already far away, I can see how her head falls to one side like she’s in pain. Tilting her chin up, she calls out, “It’s my daughter, Tella. My daughter.” And then she’s gone.

My mind reels. Harper has a daughter. I never imagined — knowing her only as a fierce teenage beauty — that it was possible. But of course it is. It explains why she was so weird around Jaxon and Olivia. And around Caroline and Dink. They reminded her of her own child. I hate her for leaving me, but I can’t pretend to understand how she must feel.

Watching her sprint toward base camp, I wonder if she’ll be able to get in. Has she killed a Pandora? Then I remember something Titus said while debating rescuing Nick from the quicksand: He let your little friend with the bird kill his Pandora.

My friend with the bird — Harper.

Harper killed Nick’s Pandora.

And now she’s eligible to win. But where is Madox? I start to search for him, but I hear something behind me that demands my attention. I spin on the balls of my feet and find Titus standing inches away. He’s pressing down on his bleeding thigh with one hand and pointing his blade toward me with the other.

“I’m going to kill you,” he says. And I can tell from the fury contorting his face that he may be right.

That I may die today.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

My first instinct is to move away from the ledge. Falling would be worse than facing Titus. I manage to take a few steps toward the middle before his open palm whips across my face.

The blow makes everything disappear. Sound. Smell. My vision. It’s all gone. All that’s left are the rocks digging into my cheek. And then everything comes back louder. Titus screaming. Titus reeking.

Titus standing over me with two knives in his hands.

I scramble for my blade like I can’t accept that he has them both. Harper would never have been beaten this easily. But she’s gone. And so is Guy. And everyone else along with them. Now it’s just me and him. I have no chance, I realize. I’m not a skilled fighter. I’m not an analytical whiz who can outsmart my opponent. At least not when they’re hovering over me. I’m just a girl who loves purple and Greek food and mani-pedis and singing out of tune. A girl who would give almost anything to be away from here and magically back in Boston, hanging out with her best friend, Hannah. I’m just a girl who thought she could save her brother.

Titus raises his boot into the air — the same one he killed Nick with — and brings it down on my ankle. I scream in agony as my foot twists in an unnatural direction. But my cries don’t stop him. He only swings his boot out and slams it into my ribs.

I have to get away from him!

Turning onto my stomach, I rise up and try to crawl, my damaged ankle dragging behind me. Something crashes into my butt and I sprawl out onto my belly.

Faster, Tella!

Adrenaline kicks in, the desire to survive despite all odds. I spin around and bring myself to my feet. Pain rips through my body and nearly blinds me. I don’t have much time to think before I feel Titus’s fist connect with my jaw.

For some reason, after all the ways he’s hurt me, I still can’t believe he punched me. Punched me. I always wondered what it would feel like. To get socked in the face. And now I know. Something about this makes me laugh.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” Titus pauses. It must intrigue him, hearing someone laugh while they’re down. I smile up at him from my stone grave, knowing my teeth are laced with blood.

“You’re just so pathetic.” I laugh until my sides ache. Until tears fill my eyes.

And then I lunge at his legs and bite into flesh.

Titus howls and brings his elbow down onto the back of my neck. I don’t care about the pain anymore, though. I’m hysterical with adrenaline. Drunk with it. I spring to my feet and hold up my fists.

Titus eyes me. “God, you are amazing, Tella. A girl filled with surprises. If only you’d been smarter about your alliances.” My heart kicks faster as he raises the blade in his right hand. I don’t know where the other one went. I guess it’s in his back pocket. If I can get to it, then perhaps I stand a chance.

Mad with fear, I dive toward him, my hand seeking the second knife.

Then I stop dead.

I glance down.

I found a knife!

It’s right here — buried in my abdomen.

Titus pulls the blade out slowly and I slump to the ground. Amazingly, I don’t feel a thing. I just stare at the wound and back at him with the wonder of a small child. The muscles in my face relax, and my whole body goes numb.

I know I should lie still and not move an inch; it’ll keep the blood in longer. But I also know it’s over for me. And though I’ve never thought about my death before — not really — I know I want to die on my feet.

I struggle to stand and Titus takes a few steps back, like he can’t believe his eyes. Then his face changes, twists with a sinister shadow.

“Your will to survive was cool at first, baby,” he says. “But now it’s getting irritating.” He tosses his bloodied blade to the ground. “As much as I’m starting to hate you, I’m not sure I can kill you myself. But I can let gravity do that for me.”

I stumble backward, but pause as a thought occurs to me. I don’t want to fall to my death. But maybe if he shoves me off the ledge, I can take him along. Give the other Contenders a chance to finish the race without him … out there.

Titus rushes toward me. But before he can cross the distance between us, something blocks his path.

His claws are four inches long.

He weighs over eight hundred pounds.

And he’s moving toward Titus, a terrible growl building in his throat.

“AK-7, stand down,” he says, trying to step around the bear. But the bear cuts him off. “I said, get the fuck out of my way.”

The grizzly bear rises up on his hind legs. His back swells. And he releases a roar that makes my blood run cold.

He’s protecting me, I realize. AK-7 is protecting me.

I can hardly make out Titus behind the beast, but I can see his face — and the moment he understands. He reaches behind his back and withdraws the last knife. The other is still on the ground, too far away for either of us to reach it.

“Come on, then!” Titus screams. “Come at me!”

The bear lands on all fours and races in his direction. And even though Titus is insane, he does something that surprises me still — he runs toward the bear. At the last second, before they collide, Titus lays himself out like he’s diving for home base. He slides beneath the bear’s legs and comes out the other side — directly in front of me. Bolting to his feet, his thigh gushing blood, he grabs me by the neck and drags me toward the ledge.

AK-7 roars again, but stops when Titus jabs his knife under my chin. My feet all but dangle off the side of the formation, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

This is it, I think. My last thought isn’t of my brother. Or my mom or dad. It’s of Guy. The way his face changes when he smiles. The way he never cracks his damn thumbs. I think about his love of newspapers, how he likes the way the pages sound in his hands. And I admit, for the first time, that when he said that, I imagined one day we’d sit at a breakfast table together — me in my leopard-print slippers and Guy crinkling his beloved paper. That we’d be together. Away from the race and the fear of losing those we love.

A breeze blows across my face and I snap my eyes open, expecting to be falling. To be one heartbeat shy of death.

But I’m not falling.

And when I realize what I’m seeing, my whole body shakes with excitement.

It’s RX-13, flying three feet away, her wings beating the hot desert air. But then I realize I’m not quite right. And I laugh aloud again when I notice the burning green eyes.

My little Madox.

I clamp a hand over my wound, suddenly fighting to stay alive. At that exact moment, Titus slams his hand over my mouth.

“Don’t think because Green Eyes came back, you’re going to live,” Titus snarls. “Then again, maybe you will. Let’s see! Why don’t you give him a command? Tell him to save you. And if he does, we’ll all live happily ever after.” Titus roars with laughter and presses his hand down harder. “Go ahead, tell him what you need.”

Titus doesn’t know Madox can’t understand me. That he’s never understood. But then again, that’s not exactly true. More than anyone, my fox has gotten me. He always knew what I needed without my saying a word. With only a thought, it seems.

Something boils deep within me. It splits me in half, mends me back together. A calm slides over my body, and for the first time in days, I think clearly. I look at Madox, and I speak directly to him — using only my mind.

Tear his eyes out.

Madox screeches and dives toward Titus’s face, talons outstretched.

Behind me, my captor screams with pain. The knife beneath my chin drops away and I twist around. Madox is beating his wings and tearing at Titus’s face. It’s like my Pandora had the same idea — to blind him — but was waiting for me to think the order. I wonder quickly how many other times he’s waited for orders I never gave.

After Madox swoops away, I gasp with horror. Titus’s hands cover his eyes, but I can still see the bright red blood dripping down his cheeks like wet fingers. He teeters toward the edge, and without thinking, I reach out to keep him from falling — then stop myself. But can I really let him fall? And if I do, is it me who kills him?

Titus steps closer and closer to the edge, growling in anguish like a monster. I cover my mouth as hot tears sting my eyes. He’s going to fall. He’s going to fall to his death. Not me.

Titus’s foot hits the ledge and his arms pinwheel. He knows he’s going down. I can see it in the way his mouth forms a perfect circle.

But then he stops. Manages to right himself.

And he takes a step toward me, his arms outstretched, eyes bursting with red flesh and blood. Suddenly, I’m not afraid of him falling. I’m afraid of him living.

No sooner than I think this — Titus flies off the side of the ledge.

His body plummets to the earth.

Seconds later, I hear a sickening, wet thud. AK-7 stands where Titus once did, looking down over the ledge. The grizzly shoved him off. And now the creature gazes at me with fear, backing away, afraid I’m going to hurt him for what he did. But all I want to do is throw my arms around his neck.

So I do.

The animal grunts when I fall against him. His muscles tense against my embrace, but then the creature relaxes and nudges his head into my side. Seconds later, I feel a second head nudging my other side. When I turn, I see Madox dressed as a twin bear. He must think this is what I want. I laugh and hug my Pandora, overwhelmed with love for these animals who have saved me.

Pulling away, I press down on my stomach. I can’t inspect the wound again. I’m afraid I’ll faint if I do. I also know I don’t want to look at Titus’s body, but that I must. Stepping toward the side, I glance over. One look is all it takes. He’s facedown on the ground, his head turned to the side. A stream of blood flows from his open mouth and from his leg.

He’s dead.

I step back and — after suffering a wave of dizziness — nearly tumble over the side myself. Touching a sticky hand to my forehead, I realize I have to get to base camp. Titus stabbed me only minutes ago, but already I feel light-headed and weak. He must not have hit a major organ or whatever. Otherwise, I’d already be toast.

Adding to my wooziness are raw nerves. My stomach twists when I think about saving Cody. With my injury, I don’t have much choice but to seek medical attention. But I pray Guy gets to base camp soon. And that he’ll help me find a way to continue the race without having to harm a Pandora. I have to believe it isn’t over. Not when I chose to do what I believe is right.

I look at the Pandoras. My Pandoras.

“Can you climb down?” I ask AK-7.

Can you climb down? I think to KD-8.

Both bears flex their paws and their mammoth nails begin to grow until they’re nearly a foot long. I’m guessing the talons can be used for climbing almost any surface.

“Of course you have Wolverine claws. Of course.” I shake my head and move away from the ledge Titus fell from. When I find a place that seems easy to descend, I nod at the bears. Then I swing my leg over the side.

What goes up … I think.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

When my feet touch the ground, I nearly collapse. It doesn’t take long to right myself, but I’m worried about how I’ll get to base camp. The bears descend behind me and then watch as I peer into the desert.

I believe I was correct. About a half-hour walk. It doesn’t seem like much. Not after everything I’ve been through. But with more blood leaking from my wound and dripping down my leg — the distance seems infinite. My biggest worry is that once I get there, I won’t find a way to continue the race. But I clench my fists and I grit my teeth and I vow to try.

“It is you,” a small voice says.

I spin around — still on guard — and spot a figure leaning against the formation. The person is only about twenty feet away. Close enough so that when I narrow my eyes, I realize who it is.

“Ransom!” I yell, rushing toward him. My steps slow as I close in. DN-99, his raccoon, is sleeping in his lap. Or maybe it’s just closing its eyes, trying to shut out what’s happening. “Oh God.” I note the ram at Ransom’s feet and crouch down beside the animal, one hand covering my stomach. G-6 is gasping for air and lying flat on his side. Looking at Ransom, I grasp what he’s trying to do. The knife is poised over the ram’s heart, but he doesn’t move an inch from there.

Ransom glances up at me with tears in his eyes. “I already killed a Pandora,” he explains. “That’s not why. It’s just he’s … He’s in so much pain.”

I nod and sit down next to him. My head swims from pain and loss of blood, but I can’t leave him. Not like this. Ransom glances over my shoulder and spots AK-7 and Madox, who’s back in fox form. He flinches. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “AK-7 helped me. He won’t hurt us or Madox.”

He shakes his head and lowers the knife. “That blasted fox. I tried to keep him still. When Harper came rushing around the corner earlier, I didn’t know what was happening. She took one look at me and tossed the fox in my direction. Told me to watch him. To not let him go.” He sighs and runs a hand through his red hair. “But that Pandora nearly took me out trying to get loose. He mimicked that eagle and wanted to go up the formation, see about the commotion. It was you up there, huh?”

I nod. Ransom looks only half there, like a part of his mind was lost somewhere in the desert. Seeing him this way, I can’t bear to tell him what happened.

“You’re hurt,” he says.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Harper has a daughter,” he adds.

My eyes widen. “She told you?”

“She told everyone. She screamed it.” Ransom points to where Harper stood, where she yelled out to me. “Think I’m the father?”

I laugh and then cringe with agony. Darkness lurks at my peripheral vision, threatening to pull me under. I drop down onto my butt and hang my head. “No, I don’t think you’re the father,” I tell the boy.

Ransom looks at me with clarity. Like some of the fuzziness in his head has subsided. He glances down at his hands, at the knife he’s holding. Then he slips it into my palm. “You have to do it,” he says in a whisper. “That’s why you’re here.”

I close my hand around the blade, but shake my head. “No, Ransom.” Though I already know I will do it. Not only because of Cody, though I feel a sting of guilt that this may be the opportunity I wanted. But because every breath the beast takes rips out my heart. I want it to end. I want the ram to go with his Contender. To be at peace. And, yes, because I want my brother to survive.

“I’m going home. I need to tell my family about Levi and be with my sister,” Ransom says suddenly. “But I need you to do this first.” He pulls himself up and moves closer to G-6. The raccoon startles and then crawls away. Ransom cradles the ram’s head in his arms and closes his eyes. “Please do it now, Tella. Please. Please don’t wait. Make it fa —”

Ransom’s voice breaks in a sob. Another wave of dizziness washes over me, but I fight the urge to succumb. There’s something I must do first. Getting to my knees, I hold the knife over the ram’s heart — or where I hope it is. Ransom lowers his mouth to the ram’s ear and whispers into it. Tears burn my eyes and I squeeze them shut. I want to make this all slow down. It seems ever since I climbed the formation — ever since I tossed my backpack on the passenger seat of the car, really — everything has moved too quickly. But I can’t draw this out. Not when both Pandora and Contender are in so much pain. I wonder if I will ever forget what I’m about to do.

No, never.

I thrust the blade in and cry out. When I look up, Ransom is staring at G-6. His face is relaxed, but his eyes seem more empty than ever.

My body shakes with disbelief. I’ve never killed anything before. The grief is instant and crushing. It wasn’t my Pandora. But it’s the last piece of Levi I’ll ever know.

“Thank you,” Ransom says. When he looks directly at me, his expression changes from sorrow — to concern. “We need to get you to base camp.”

It’s the last thing I hear before I lose consciousness.

What happens next comes only in fragments. It’s like I’m lying near the ocean; one moment, I see things clearly, the next, I’m smothered by the tide.

I feel a rocking, jerking sensation and realize I’m being carried. The person holding me is about the size of a mattress. He’s talking about his nails.

Beside him, I spot a blur of yellow curls. In focus. Out of focus. It’s like a flower blooming, then fading to black.

The mattress carries me farther.

I sleep in his arms, and when I wake again, there are men hovering over me, tending to my wound. I feel the sting of a needle sewing flesh. When I groan, one of the men stops and speaks to the other. Something pinches on the inside of my arm, and my mind goes blank.

And then, sometime in the night, I hear him.

Him.

He leans over me and whispers in my ear like Ransom did to Levi’s Pandora. His voice sounds like it’s coming from a wind tunnel, and I can barely understand what he’s saying.

“… don’t need to know everything now. Only that I’ll never leave you again,” Guy says. Though I can’t see him, I know he’s thinking. Wondering how much to say. Finally, I hear his voice continue. His words slide over my body like silk. “You asked about my tattoo.” Guy pauses, chooses his words carefully. “Do you know what hawks sometimes eat? Do you know what they hunt?” My heart beats faster, but I can’t open my eyes. Open your eyes!

“They hunt serpents, Tella,” he finishes. “Serpents, like the ones running this race.”

My heart thumps so hard, I’m afraid I’ll die in this moment. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot open my eyes.

Even as Guy tells me his secret.

That he is here for more than just his cousin.

“She’s definitely looking at me,” someone says.

I hear a long sigh. And then, “You’re imagining things. Again.”

I know the voice. I know both of these people. My eyelids flutter and the room spins. Someone’s face comes within inches of mine. I see teeth. So many teeth, I’m afraid it’s a monster. That Titus is back with his ever-present smile.

“Get back, Jaxon. If she is awake, you’re going to scare the crap out of her.”

That’s it. That’s the face — and the owner of the teeth. “Jaxon,” I croak.

“Hot damn, I knew you were awake,” Jaxon cries.

A chair groans and seconds later, Braun leans over the cot I’m lying in. “Hey, Tinker Bell. You passed out. I carried you. Did a number on my nails.” He glances at his fingers and his eyebrows knit together with concern. Then he looks up and smiles. “Thought we might lose you.”

“Where’s Madox?” The first thing I want to know about is Guy, but I can’t bring myself to ask. His name conjures too many questions. So for now I think of my fox.

“Olivia is with him outside,” Jaxon says. “Him and the bear.”

“Is Olivia okay?” I try sitting up, but Braun lays his enormous palm against my shoulder and guides me back down. “And AK-7 isn’t bad.”

“She’s fine,” he replies. “And we know the bear isn’t bad.”

“The bear killed Titus,” I add. What I don’t admit is how I helped. But I doubt they’d blame me for my part.

Jaxon rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, we didn’t know that. We figured something went down, but no one knew what.”

“Is Ransom here? Maybe I should tell him about Titus, too. I haven’t yet.” I reach down and touch the place where Titus stabbed me. Just as I suspected, I feel stitches running along my abdomen.

“Um, you should ask Guy about Ransom. He insisted he be the one to tell you.” Braun rubs a hand over his shaved head.

My muscles clench upon hearing that Guy is here, at base camp. Perhaps right outside the door. But I guess I knew that. I remember … I remember what he said to me.

“Are you sure Titus is dead?” Braun continues.

I think back to how far Titus fell, almost four stories. I think about the tilt of his head and the blood streaming from his mouth and leg. “I’m sure.”

Braun’s shoulders fall with relief and he nods. “I didn’t want to let those things happen to you. I didn’t want to —” Something catches in his throat. He looks down and presses his lips together, breathing in through his nose.

I can’t stand the thought of Braun feeling guilty. Not after he carried me here. But mostly, I don’t want to hold on to anger or resentment. This race is hard enough on its own.

“It’s fine.” I take his hand and give it a squeeze. Jaxon takes my other hand and we have a total bonding moment. I could stay here for hours, just relaxing and chatting with these two. But there are others I need to ask about.

“Where is Caroline?” I swallow hard. “And Harper?”

Jaxon and Braun exchange looks. “You should talk to Guy about them, too,” Jaxon answers.

I want to demand answers, but decide since Guy is the only person left to ask about, I’ll do as they say. “Then can you send him in?”

They glance at each other and nod like they have to agree on this together. I wonder how long I was out for these two to have become such close conspirators. “Yeah, okay,” Jaxon says. “We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

They leave quietly, and I glance around for the first time. I assume I’m in one of the huts I spotted from the formation. The walls create a perfect circle and the roof is pitched to a single point. The entire thing — except the dirt floor — is made of dried grass. Over the door hangs a thick green-and-blue plaid blanket. I have a similar one over my legs. Hanging across the room is a small, round mirror, and below it is a rickety chest. There are three other cots besides mine. And only one chair. The one Braun was sitting in when I woke up.

I stare at the empty chair and suddenly feel very alone. The sensation doesn’t last long. Because when I turn my head — I see Guy standing in the makeshift doorway. My chest splinters and my ribs stretch open.

All that’s left is my heart.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

He runs a hand over his jaw like he’s not sure what to do. A shiver works its way down my spine and my skin tingles. If he doesn’t touch me, I’ll burst from anxiety.

I will crumble.

He takes a step in my direction, and I open my mouth to say something, anything that will bring him closer. But he crosses the room without encouragement. He sits down on my bedside like he’s not sure if I want him there. Like he’s afraid I’ll shove him off at any moment. I’d rather tear my insides out.

Guy swallows.

His fists tighten.

His jaw clenches.

“Say something,” I tell him.

He turns and looks at me. His eyes swim with fear. My breath catches. “Jaxon tells me Titus is dead.”

A knot forms in my throat. I suddenly feel like a child again, like I need to be rocked in someone’s arms. On the formation, I was brave. I faced Titus and I lived. But here, with Guy sitting so close, the terror I felt devours my soul. Tears streak down my cheeks. I’m in awe of them, surprised that I can cry after being so dehydrated. It’s then that I realize I’m not thirsty, and that the men who work for the race must have given me fluids.

Guy wipes away my tears and shakes his head. “He got away from me, Tella,” he explains. “I knew when he ran … I knew he would go after you.” Guy looks into his lap and bites the inside of his cheek. “I tried to find him before he found you. I tried.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I would have killed him.”

I sit up — gritting my teeth against the pain in my abdomen — and throw my arms around his waist, bury my head into his chest. Beneath me, I feel him draw in a deep breath. Then he wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Tella,” he whispers into my hair. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

I bite my lip and press my cheek closer to him. “I remember what you told me.”

He stiffens. “What do you remember?”

Pulling away, I sit up and stare into his face. “That tattoo on your back. It stands for something,” I say. “You said hawks hunt serpents.”

Guy looks at me for a long time, then nods. “That’s right.”

I clasp my hands together like Caroline does when she’s nervous. It doesn’t help. “You’re here to take down the people running this race.”

He glances over his shoulder at the door. When he looks back, he squares his shoulders and straightens. His silence is admission enough, but I want to hear him say it aloud.

“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me I’m right.”

New tears escape my eyes. I’m more afraid in this moment than I have been the whole race. Afraid Guy will die trying to find these people — and of the things I’d do to prevent that. He rubs his thumbs over my cheeks and says, “You’re right. I’m here to destroy the Brimstone Bleed. To ensure no one ever suffers through it again. I’ve been training….” He trails off and touches a hand to his mangled ear absently, as if remembering this training. Then he moves his hand to my chin, holds it so that I meet his eyes. “Tella, do you remember what I told you about Gabriel Santiago’s daughter, Morgan?”

I nod. How could I forget?

Guy breathes through tight lips, and I realize he’s about to tell me the rest of the story. My muscles tighten as I anticipate his words. “After Morgan died,” he says gently, “Santiago found out that the Pharmies were the ones who started the fire. And he sought vengeance. He wanted the Pharmies who killed his daughter, the same ones who destroyed his work, to pay for what they’d done. He threatened their families, said he’d murder their children and spouses and parents unless they agreed to his terms.” Guy swallows, and then he says to me, “Santiago was a powerful man, with powerful friends. He could’ve done what he promised.”

My eyes fall to the floor, wondering what I’d do if someone threatened to kill my entire family. Someone I thought could follow through with it. “What did he want them to do?” I ask in a whisper.

Guy rubs a hand over the back of my neck. I close my eyes as his fingers trace circles along my skin. “He asked them to choose. He asked them to choose one person in their family to compete in a race.”

My eyes snap open.

“Santiago then told them to choose someone else. Someone to be injected with a virus they’d create. That family member would be used as motivation for the person competing in the race.” Guys stops rubbing my neck. “As punishment for having a hand in his daughter’s death, Santiago created a race. And every six years, he made the Pharmies choose two people from their families. One to compete and one to become ill. Cousins, brothers, great aunts … they could choose anyone. But they had to choose. And the only thing they could do to help was create animals to assist them in the race.”

After everything I’ve been through, I almost can’t handle this last piece of the puzzle. The knowledge that nearly sixty years ago, someone in my family had a hand in Morgan’s death. And that my being here is a consequence of that. My body starts shaking as my mind snaps hold of something else….

Creator Collins.

The one who created Madox.

He could be family.

“How is this still going on? Isn’t Santiago dead?”

“Others have taken his place,” Guy says quickly, and I can hear the spitefulness in his voice. “It’s bigger now than Santiago ever thought it could be. There are people out there ignorant of the details, gambling on what they believe is an illegal horse race. And others who help the Pharmies decide who out of their families should be infected and who should compete. And there are managers, too. People who oversee the actual race and keep the gamblers informed on how their horse is performing.”

I’m overwhelmed with everything Guy’s telling me, and part of me wonders, Why tell me this now? “Is that everything you know?” I ask, defeated. “Is there more?”

“There’s more. Details that aren’t important.” He squeezes my hand.

“You’re really going to try and end this race?” I ask. “For good?”

Guy makes a fist and beats it twice against his knee. “My father told me that the people running the race recruit the top five Contenders to work for them.” Guy pauses, licks his lips. “I’m going to win, and then I’m going to take the job.”

“You’ll try to take them down from the inside,” I speculate.

He squeezes my hand again as if to say, That’s right.

“If Harper stays, maybe she can help us,” I tell him, my heart beating faster. “Did you see her fight the Triggers the night they attacked our campsite? She was like this —”

“Tella,” Guy interrupts. “You’re not doing this with me. I’m only telling you so there aren’t any more secrets.”

“But with me and Harper —”

“Harper is gone.”

I let go of his hand. “What are you talking about?”

Guy cups my face in his palm. “You’ve been out for almost a full day,” he says. “Harper left last night. She took Caroline and Ransom with her.”

“How could she do that?” I put both hands on my head, trying to come to terms with what he’s telling me. “They don’t give us the choice to leave until the last day of base camp, right?”

“She was the winner,” he explains. His voice lowers into a whisper. “She made a request because of her circumstances.” My brow furrows and Guy runs his thumb over the crease. He avoids my eyes when he says, “Harper’s daughter died.”

I cover my mouth and choke on a sob. Shaking my head, I think of how she told me only yesterday. How I went from seeing Harper as a friend and comrade — to a mother.

Guy slides his hand inside his cargo pants and withdraws an envelope. “She left this for you.” Before I can ask what it says, he presses his lips against mine. The letter flutters to the bed and I twine my arms around his neck. Guy pulls me closer and kisses me deeper until all thoughts of the race vanish. He kisses me until there is only him and me and the feel of our skin. I shiver as his hands move up my back and wrap around my neck. His tongue slides into my mouth and heat floods my body. I want to live here, in this moment — with him this close and me in his arms.

When we break away at last, both gasping for air, our hands continue to roam. They touch thighs and lips and cheeks. It’s as if our minds have released each other, but our bodies can’t dream of stopping.

“Read her letter,” he says finally. “I’ll be outside.”

He heads for the door and even then I reach out for him. I want to scream for him to stay. But instead, I look down at the envelope. The one Harper left me.

I fill my lungs, run my finger under the sealed flap —

And I pull out the letter.

Tella,

I’m leaving tonight, and I’m taking Caroline and Ransom with me. You should know I’m giving my small portion of the Cure to Caroline. She deserves a chance at a real relationship with her mother. As for me, I need to go home. I need to be with my family. I have to see my daughter again.

I will never be the same, Tella. Not without her. But listen when I tell you this — I’ll be back. I’m going to make sure what happened to me doesn’t happen to you.

I’m going to help you win the Brimstone Bleed.

— Harper

Reading Harper’s letter is too much. I pull myself out of bed and double over with pain. The stitches in my stomach are tender and raw, but I can’t lie here any longer. I right myself and move across the room. I shuffle like an old man and my mind spins. I think about the race and the things I’ve done. I think about Madox and how I’d dissolve without him. I think of Caroline and Ransom and Harper — who are all on their way home. I even think about Jaxon and Olivia and Braun, my new friends.

And I think of Guy.

I remember he’s here for more than just his cousin — that it’s bigger than a sister or a mother or a daughter. That he’ll try to destroy the Brimstone Bleed. I wonder if I’m strong enough to aid him — if I can let this be bigger than Cody. If I can help save more than just my brother.

Madox trots in and I scoop him into my arms, careful not to strain myself. The fox nuzzles my neck, and my heart sings. Holding my Pandora, I realize there’s more at stake than our loved ones back home. There are also the animals the Creators — the Pharmies — generated. What happens to them when the race ends? Are they destroyed? If so, do they go willingly to their deaths, or do they fight? I gaze at my fox and my body trembles.

When I glance up, I realize I’m standing before the oval mirror.

My gut twists when I see myself. “Good God,” I tell my Pandora. “I need a friggin’ bath.” There’s sand in my curly hair and my face is covered with grime. My white shirt is nearly brown with sweat and dirt, and I have a purple bruise blooming across my cheek. But my lips form a small smile when I see that the green-and-blue feather still dangles over my shoulder.

Finally, I see my eyes. My mother’s eyes. And I suddenly grasp what she meant. Running my thumb beneath them, I notice they hold strength I never recognized before. The same strength I always saw in her.

Understanding — or maybe acceptance — showers over me.

My mother took us to Montana to try and save my brother. To hide him from the race. To hide me. But they found us anyway. She knew all along. It was right there in her eyes: knowledge and determination and strength.

I know what she was telling me when she said I have her eyes.

You have my strength, too.

The feather in my hair is more than what it appears, I realize. This was my mother’s, she’d said. But it’s what she didn’t say that haunts me. The questions I never thought to ask. The questions I’d ask now if she were here: When did she wear this feather, Mom? Did she wear it in the jungle? In the desert? Did she wear it as a Contender?

But perhaps there’s another question I’d like answered even more.

What happened to her?

I look down at Madox. My mother never wanted me to be here, but she knew I was going anyway. And she knew I could win.

I will win.

I’ll save Cody.

Then I’ll help Guy bring down this entire race.