G.U.A.R.D. Book #1: Clandestine

-17-

    I slept for hours, but it only felt like minutes when I felt Knife shake my shoulder.

"Get up," she ordered, voice betraying nothing of kindness. I groaned, head still swimming painfully in the darkness, but her rough hand on my arm made my eyes open.

"What?" I asked, voice scratchy.

"Your turn to watch."

I sighed and forced myself to get up. If I didn't, Knife would probably show she "cared for me." The woman lay down where I had been. I tried to look for a place to sit down while shaking the sleepiness from my brain. Wiping my eyes didn't do much to help. Still, I found a nice, little boulder close to Jay and decided that was my best option. When I was seated, I glanced down to him and instantly felt like a stalker, just staring at his face. But for some reason, I just wanted to be with him.

I didn't like him. Out of all the things in this complex life, that I was certain of. But knowing he was there made me feel safe—a whole lot safer than I felt with Knife. Maybe because I actually felt like he cared for me.

After he shot that gun in the car? Get your head in the game, Alex! He's a killer. How can someone like him care? I chided myself. I looked away from Jay.

I tried turning my thoughts to other things. Like how beautiful it appeared out here at night. I had never really been away from the city. This was really my first time in the country. I wasn't sure if it was being in Texas, or in the country, but it was amazing how different the stars glistened. My right hand curled, as if holding a pencil. My heart yearned for a sketchbook. But that just reminded me of the first hint of the League of Blood: the blood splattered on the head of the girl I drew.

Huh. I wonder why they even did that. What was so important about that girl? A girl who was standing on a hill of snow? A girl I had made in my imagination? Sure, when I was envisioning the scene, I thought myself as a girl, but... myself.

"You look exactly like her. It's kind of hard not to recognize you," Mustard had said.

Did they think the girl was Mom? And when she saw it for the first time, she even said that it reminded her of something. Maybe she had a mission in a snowy place of something. A triumph against the League perhaps? Is that why they blotted out her face with blood? But if they wanted Mom and Dad to think G.U.A.R.D. sent them the message, why would they put blood on the sketchbook? Gosh, none of this made sense.

My eyes fell downcast, and I thought about home. My heart ached for the feel of our couches, the smell of cleaning supplies, Dad's arm around my shoulders. I thought about all the lies the parents fed Dustin and me, as if we were babies. And I thought about Dustin, how he wanted to find out the truth, but I was too much of a wimp to help. Did he ever actually find something? Has Slade explained everything to him by now?

And was Anthony okay without me helping him with his powers?

Crack!

I gasped and looked behind me, where a twig had snapped. Swallowing down my sadness and loneliness, I gingerly stepped off the boulder and wandered a little ways from camp. With a quick glance to Knife and Jay, I noted they didn't seem bothered by the noise. But still, you could never be sure. Especially when you were traveling with two G.U.A.R.D. agents, and had an unknown number of League guys on your trail, ready or kill or kidnap.

The woods seemed quieter as I took a few more steps forward. The fluttering of feathers met my ears, and a bird flew from the nearest tree, scattering several insects in the doing. I watched it fly into the night and breathed a sigh of relief. A bird. That's all it was. I turned back to the camp and only took a step when I felt a hand grab my mouth. I gasped, but it was muffled. Someone wrapped their arm around my torso. I struggled, trying to get free of the man's grasp. Panic seized me when I realized this was a League agent, trained to execute missions flawlessly—and his target was me.