You Never Know Who to Trust

Unexpected Strays

We reached marlinton's city limits at seven o’clock in the morning, just as the sun decided to reappear from behind the thick layer of clouds. It colored the nearby trees a faint violet, and glinted off the wall of mist that had gathered over the asphalt. By then, we had driven past several highway exits that were barricaded with junk, rails, or deserted cars—done up either by the National Guard to contain hostile towns and cities, or by the residents themselves, to keep unwanted looters and visitors out of already hard-hit areas. The road itself, however, had been silent for hours on end, which meant that we were due for some sort of human interaction sooner or later.

It came sooner, in the form of a red semitruck. I scooted down in my seat as it whipped past us. It was headed clear in the opposite direction, but I had a perfect view of the gold swan painted on its side.

“They’re everywhere,” Cate said, following my line of sight. “That was probably a shipment to Thurmond.”

It was the first true sign of life we’d seen in all of our driving—most likely because we were cruising down Dead Man’s Highway in the middle of Butt-Freaking Nowhere—but that single truck was enough to scare Cate.

“Get in the backseat,” she said to Ruby, “and stay down.”

Ruby did as she was told, and at some point she was next to the door and I was next to Martin. Once again I was very uncomfortable.

Martin watched me with glassy eyes. At one point, I felt his hand slip against my arm, like he was trying to help me. I recoiled, trying to get closer to Ruby than Martin my back was against the seat and my knees were against my chest, but we were still too close. When he grinned, it was enough to make my skin crawl.

There were boys at Thurmond. Plenty of them, in fact. But any activity that involved the commingling of the sexes—whether that was eating together, sharing cabins, or even passing one another on the way to the Washrooms—was strictly forbidden. The PSFs and camp controllers enforced the rule with the same level of severity they did with the kids who—however intentionally or unintentionally—used their abilities. Which, of course, only drove everyone’s already hormone-drunk brains crazier, and turned some of my cabinmates into an elite breed of covert stalkers.

Maybe I didn’t remember the “right” way to interact with someone of the opposite gender, or anyone at all, but I’m pretty sure Martin didn’t, either.

“Fun, huh?” he said. It seemed obvious he was talking to Ruby, but she didn't realize. 

We are nothing alike, I realized. We had been brought to the same place, lived in a similar kind of terror, but he…he was so…

I needed to change the subject and distract him from whatever it was he was trying to do. The AC was on, but you never would have known by the heat he was giving off.

“Do you think Thurmond has noticed we’re gone?” Ruby asked, breaking the silence.

Cate switched off her headlights. “I would think so. The PSFs don’t have the manpower to launch a full hunt for us, but I’m positive they’ve put two and two together about what you are.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked. “That we're Orange, and she's Purple? I thought you said they already knew. That was why we had to leave so quickly.”

“They were on the verge of finding out,” Cate explained. “They were testing the Orange and Purple frequencies in that Calm Control. I don’t think any of them expected it to work that quickly—that’s why we had to get you out, and fast.”

“Frequencies,” Martin repeated. “You mean they added something to it?”

“That’s exactly right.” Cate smiled at him in the rearview mirror. “The League got wind of their new method of trying to weed out kids who had been labeled incorrectly when they were brought into camp. You know that adults can’t hear the Calm Control, I’m sure.”
We all nodded.