Home > Willowgrove (Hemlock #3)(22)

Willowgrove (Hemlock #3)(22)
Author: Kathleen Peacock

“I didn’t forget.” I struggled to keep my voice even. As if I could ever forget that.

Kyle tried to smooth out the rising tension. “There might be someone in the pack who can help her,” he said. “They have people who were doctors and nurses before they became infected. They might at least be able to figure out what’s wrong with her or what they did at Thornhill to cause this. Maybe they can figure out what drugs they gave her or if any of them are still in her system.”

The corner of the newspaper was just visible under the sofa. I opened my mouth to tell them about the logo, but Trey’s voice cut me off and knocked me silent.

“I already know what’s wrong with her.” He walked to the room’s one small, dirty window and stared at the darkness outside. “This isn’t the first time this has happened. Back when we were kids . . .” His voice trailed off as he flexed his right hand and rotated his shoulder. So suddenly that I jumped, he punched the window frame, cracking the glass and splintering the wood.

Trey’s shoulders slowly slumped as the tension drained out of him. He turned and met my gaze. Everything about him seemed . . . defeated.

“We were just kids when we were attacked. Serena . . . hell, she was so small for her age, most people thought she was eight instead of eleven.” The Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “The first time we shifted, I was fine. But Ree could only hold the change for a minute. Afterward it was like her body tried to burn itself up. Dad couldn’t take her to a hospital without them finding out what she was. It took three days for the fever to break and Ree ended up in bed for a month. She almost died.”

Serena had told me the story once before. No one knew why, but children under fifteen only had a 40 percent chance of surviving their first shift. The fact that both she and Trey had made it through bordered on miraculous.

A small detail, barely noticed at the time, drifted back to me. “I got a look at Serena’s admission form while we were in the camp. They circled the age she was when she became infected. Maybe that’s why they singled her out.”

A crease formed between Kyle’s brows. “Because they figured if she could survive being infected so young, maybe she’d be strong enough to survive what they were doing in the detention block.”

I thought of the cemetery in the woods behind the camp as I stared at Serena’s small, feverish form. What if they had been wrong? What if she wasn’t strong enough, after all?

The narrow staircase creaked under my weight as I climbed up to the choir loft. The flame from the pillar candle I carried jumped and flickered, making the shadows in the small space dance.

Kyle looked up as I stepped through the door. He had pushed two benches together and had retrieved Tess’s sleeping bag from his car to form a makeshift bed. It wasn’t exactly luxurious, but it was good enough.

Jason had managed to get his hands on a phone and had called Kyle to say he wouldn’t make it to the church before morning, and Trey had wanted to be alone while he kept watch over Serena—I think because he hated the idea of anyone watching him wait and worry while his sister fought for her life. The only thing for Kyle and me to do was try to catch some sleep.

“Did you reach your dad?”

Warmth flooded my cheeks. I prayed the darkness would hide my blush as I handed Kyle his phone. “No answer,” I lied. “I guess we just wait for Eve to show up in the morning.”

His fingertips brushed mine as he took the cell. Part of me almost caved right then and there. I wanted to tell him the truth—I knew how dangerous secrets could be—but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the logo or why I had really wanted to borrow his phone.

Not yet.

It was like CutterBrown was a secret—one shared between Amy and me.

I would tell Kyle—I would tell him everything—once I figured out whether or not there was anything worth telling.

He pulled back the sleeping bag and stretched out on one of the benches.

I watched him for a moment, memorizing the way the candlelight played across his face, before blowing out the flame and joining him.

He slipped an arm over my waist and I scooted back until my shoulders were flush to his chest. Between the sleeping bag and the old jacket Kyle had found in his car, I was truly warm for the first time in hours.

Kyle traced light patterns on my stomach, loops and swirls that I could somehow feel even through layers of fabric. We had never been driven to fill silence with words—not when we were with each other—but the quiet that fell over the loft was somehow thick and heavy.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

It was a stupid question. None of us were all right.

His hand stilled, but he didn’t speak for a long moment. “I was thinking about the junkyard,” he said finally, pulling away from me.

Kyle and Trey hadn’t said much about what had happened after Serena and I took off on the bike.

I rolled over so I could study his face.

Kyle was lying on his back. Moonlight drifted down through the holes in the church’s roof, providing just enough illumination for me to make out his profile and the hard line of his jaw.

“What happened?” I asked softly, hesitantly. I thought of Serena and the man she had killed. “Did you . . .”

I cut myself off before finishing the sentence, but Kyle guessed what I had been about to ask.

“I don’t know. I hope not.” His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “Most of the men were trapped when Trey sent that wall of cars crashing down. I hurt a few of them—the guy who grabbed you, another who was trying to call for backup—but I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t have to.”

I slipped my hand into his as I waited for the but.

“More men cornered us in the Meadows. Not the police. Guys like the ones who went after you and Serena. One aimed a gun at Jason. I didn’t think . . . I just . . .” Kyle’s hand flexed around mine. “I don’t think I killed him—everything was crazy but I’m sure he was still alive—but I cut him up pretty badly.”

“You were protecting Jason.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so’?” I let go of his hand and raised myself up on my elbow. “Kyle, you were protecting Jason. You were protecting all of us.”

“That doesn’t make what I did any less awful. Any more human.”

   
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