Spy School: Framed for Murder (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter Eleven: Theodore Roosevelt Island

When I came to, it was so dark that I thought I was still unconscious.

But then I felt my back leaning against the rough bark of a tree and the wetness of the grass seeping through my pants, and I knew we were on the island.

"Erica?" I whispered into the darkness.

"I'm here," she whispered back. Instinctively, I turned my head to face the direction her voice had come from.

"Where's Cyrus and Catherine?" I asked.

"Here. They're asleep. I'm currently on first watch."

I shifted to get a bit more comfortable, wincing when my thigh throbbed. "Is the bullet still inside of me?"

"No," she replied. "Cyrus took it out."

I blew out a sigh, relieved that it had been done while I was unconscious. "What about the police?"

"They left after it got too dark. They're most likely coming back tomorrow at first light, though, so you should probably get some sleep."

"What about you?" I questioned.

"I'll be fine," she said. "Go to sleep."

I was reluctant to do so. I wanted to stay up and talk with her and hang out with her; but at the same time, I was exhausted from the adrenaline and the excitement. Right before my eyelids flickered shut, I heard a shuffling sound and caught a whiff of lilacs and gunpowder. I almost tried to stay awake so I could savor the comforting smell, but couldn't resist and fell asleep.

——

The sound of helicopter blades spinning through the air jolted me awake. I found myself in the shadows of a dense forest, surrounded by dry, leafless ash trees that might've been more beautiful in the summer. The sky was still relatively dark, but bright enough that I could at least make out the figures of Catherine and Erica. They'd both been woken up as well, and were already up on their feet, as though they'd just had a full twelve healthy hours of sleep. I, on the other hand, was still groggy and trying unsuccessfully to force myself to be more alert.

"Where's Cyrus?" Catherine asked, scanning the area.

Catherine's bun had been undone, and her hair was now hanging down in messy waves. At some point, she'd taken off her suit jacket and was now only wearing gray suit pants and a rumpled blouse covered in dried dirt. I was about to ask why her clothing was so dirty when I came across the answer myself—it was for the sake of camouflaging.

Erica looked just as disheveled as well. She'd ripped off part of the sleeves of her sweater, so the extra-long sleeves would stop bothering her. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, uncombed and unevenly parted in all different ways, but she still looked like the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen.

I put a hand on the trunk I'd been leaning on and used it to help myself to my feet, leaning most of my weight on my left leg. Erica came over to help me, which instantly woke me up completely. Her arm slipped around my waist and my arm went over her shoulders, just like back in Georgetown. Except, unlike last time, I was much more awake and aware of the fact that Erica was touching me.

I swallowed and tried to act nonchalant.

"Come on, you sluggards. Quit idling around and get moving."

Cyrus seemed to appear out of thin air—a talent he and his granddaughter shared. One moment he was gone, the next, he was standing right in front of us and scolding us for being lazy.