UnBound - Neal Shusterman Page 0,99

shadows. His hand covers her mouth before she can scream—a hand that doesn’t match the rest of him.

He pushes her inside, and although she struggles, he’s much stronger. She knows it’s a rewind, but until he speaks, she doesn’t realize that she’s seen him before.

“Prom night!” he says. “Win the bet!”

It’s the horrible one from the fence. She sees his eyes now. Dead. Lifeless. That void in his eyes makes it all the more awful. She breaks free and finally screams—but realizes she’s alone in the house. Her father works the night shift, and her mother is at a teacher’s conference on Maui. The neighbors must have heard, but will they get here fast enough to stop him from reliving whatever horrific prom night his fragmented brain remembers and whatever twisted bet that particular unwind made with his sleazy friends?

She races to the kitchen, thinking she’ll escape through the back door but realizing how unlikely that is. The kitchen has weapons, though. She reaches for the knife drawer, but he tackles her to the ground from behind. With her hand firmly on the drawer handle, the entire drawer comes out, sending knives and skewers and wooden spoons flying across the room—which means he has access to as many potential weapons as she does.

Standing above her now, he starts blathering out names. “Audrey, Katrina, Camille, Hazel!”

Are these girls that some unwind in his head once victimized? It isn’t until he adds Andrew to the list that she realizes that they’re all hurricanes.

“Category five!” he shouts over her screams. “Surf’s up!” He’s calling her a storm, and he intends to tame her.

As he moves toward her, she thrusts her hands out across the floor and grabs the first thing she can, swinging it at his head. It’s an iron ladle. Not what she wanted, but she swings it hard enough to open a seam on his forehead. She swings again and again, and it keeps him at bay just long enough for a neighbor to arrive at the back door, pounding, then kicking the door.

The doorjamb splinters, the man bursts in, and the unwind turns tail, pushing past him—but not before grabbing the pistol from the man’s hand. The rewind—now armed—disappears into the night. Only now that he’s gone does Keliana burst into sobs, allowing herself to be comforted by her neighbor.

10 • Keaton

He regains consciousness, knowing he’s not in his bed but not yet realizing where he is, or why he’s there. Then awareness begins to shoot back at him in staccato machine-gun bursts. Outside. Perimeter fence. Hit in the head. Dirk! It was Dirk!

What time is it? It’s still night. Does anyone know they’re gone? Probably. There’s a gash on his temple. It’s stopped bleeding. He’s sure he didn’t lose much blood, but he’s still dizzy when he gets up. Concussion? Possibly. Not important now. What’s important is finding Dirk. So Keaton squeezes his way through the hole in the fence, birthing himself into a world he might be ready for, but is certainly not ready for him.

• • •

He follows the road for more than a mile until he reaches a portside town. It’s still dark, and morning seems no closer. There seems to be a lot of activity for this time of night. Lights are on in many homes. Cars are on the street. It doesn’t occur to him to think why. He’s too focused on searching for Dirk. He will be hiding in the shadows. Lurking. That’s what Dirk does. Even in the light of day he lurks. It’s only when he sees a line of people with flashlights that Keaton realizes this is a search. It seems half the town is up, and Keaton knows who they must be searching for. What the hell did Dirk do?

Keaton hurries to duck into the cover of some bushes, but one of the flashlights catches him.

“Look there! I think it’s him!”

They start running in his direction, and he pushes through the bushes and into a backyard, leaps a hedge, and is out on another street. But there are people everywhere. He’s spotted again, and another half dozen people take chase. At the end of the street, headlights light him up for everyone to see.

“It’s him!” someone shouts. “Look, he’s got one umber hand and a cut on his forehead—just like Keliana said!”

He spins, looking for an escape route, but there is none. He’s surrounded on all sides, and he knows that the crowd around him senses triumph. They move