Defect - By Ryann Kerekes Page 0,75

That I got away free and clear before he risked escaping, too, no longer held the logic it once did. Why would he leave just months before his brother got the mindscan?

Then I remember the anger in his clenched jaw when Rena told us about the mindscan turning people docile. Into Sleepers. Something nags deep inside me. I can’t rule out that Will may try to take matters into his own hands. No. I shake my head, clearing it of the thought. He promised he would come for me. But I think of him and Rena and their whispered conversations, their knowing glances. Were they up to something much bigger than just helping me get away?

I flinch at every forest noise I hear and startle easily at the wind. I become convinced even the chirping birds are spies, reporting my progress. The harder I try to cling onto my sanity, the further it seems to slip from my grasp.

I walk and I walk until I lose track of the days. My pants get so baggy I have to fold them over at the waist just to keep them up. And eventually, I lose the energy to quiet my sobs, letting my doubts and fears run wild until my mind is a hollow, broken cave.

Chapter 28

I wake with a gasp and try to sit up, but hands on my shoulders push me back down. I open my eyes, but it’s too dark to see. I try to yell, but my voice won’t obey. I manage a weak rasp.

“Shh. Shh,” a woman’s voices soothes. Her face comes into focus. Long silver braids hang down in front of my face. Her eyes are endless pools of worry looking down on me. “Rest,” she whispers and pushes my shoulders back against the bed.

“Where am I?” I croak.

“You’re in the wilderness.”

Her words make my head spin. I have no memory of the last several days, but somehow, against all odds, I’ve made it. I nearly cry with joy. “Who are you?” I ask, my voice unsteady.

“My name is Sage.”

She hums as she works, and peels my stiff, dirty clothes from my body. She doesn’t even bother pulling my shirt over my head; instead I feel her cutting it off me. She brings a steaming cloth to my face and scrubs at my cheeks with steady pressure. When she wipes down the rest of me, I can’t muster the energy to feel embarrassed that a complete stranger is bathing me.

After I’m clean, she anoints my many insect bites with salve, and my heart clenches with memories of Will. Now that I’ve made it – I know he can, too. He is much stronger, much more experienced than me. I remember the smell of mint medication, the taste of chestnuts, the feel of his hand in mine and drift into sleep.

***

It’s three days before I can sit up in bed and look at the room around me. It’s a small one-room cabin with a wood stove in the corner, a table with two mismatched chairs and one bed – the bed I’ve been sleeping in. I notice a mound of blankets on the floor and feel guilty for taking Sage’s bed, especially given her generosity.

She notices I’m up and comes to my side. She looks over the bandage on my wrist. I can tell I make her nervous, with my tattoo and my sliced open arm, but she doesn’t ask any questions, which is good, because I’m not ready to answer them yet.

The next time I wake up, it’s dark out again. Sage is sitting by the fire knitting. It’s her humming that woke me, I realize.

“What are you making?” I ask.

She startles at my voice. “Heavens – I thought you were out cold.” She stands and walks to the side of the bed. She dangles a half-made stocking cap from the end of her knitting needle for me to see. “Are you feeling up for something to eat?”

My stomach groans at the mention of food. I nod.

She goes to the fire and ladles a cup full of steaming broth into a mug. My mouth waters in anticipation of something warm to fill my stomach.

She sets it on the table beside the bed. “Let it cool,” she says, reading the disappointment on my face. “So what brings you here, Eve?”

I flinch. I don’t remember telling her my name.

“You were talking in your sleep,” she explains at my reaction. It seems unlikely that I’d said my own name,