E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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I BOLT UPRIGHT.
I’m on the beach. A full moon casts its sparkling light over the sea. The waves roll in gently, thrumming their way across the sand.
I’m still in the MEEP.
Thank God. I was only dreaming.
I lie back down and cover my face with my hands, still shaken by the nightmare.
I want so badly to be home. But not that home.
I know the dream is my subconscious is trying to tell me something, but what? The darkness, the locked rooms . . . surely they’re some kind of metaphor for the Black and my lost memories . . . but holy hell, does my brain really need to torment me like this? Haven’t I been through enough already without my own brain cells turning against me?
That creepy voice whispering to me, stalking me. Who was it? I feel like I should know.
Maybe Wyn can help me figure it out. I lift my head and look around the beach. We often rest down here, and this isn’t the first time I’ve woken to find him already up and pacing the shore. Or in the sea, treading water. Lost in thought, like me. Only I don’t go in the water anymore.
I finally spot him, emerging from the waves several yards away. In the corner of my eye, I also spy a flicker, a shadow, in the treeline. A human-shaped shadow.
I’m not the only one watching Wyn.
I freeze, then carefully lower my head back down to the sand, my eyes glued to the shadow.
Wyn stops to shake the water off himself, then walks up the beach toward the treeline. The shadow crouches below the brush, hiding from Wyn.
Someone has breeched our island.
Someone who does not wish to be seen.
I quickly weigh my options. If I call out to Wyn, the stalker will no doubt run away or disappear. That just leaves one other choice.
I have to stalk the stalker.
I wait until Wyn disappears into the forest and the shadow after him, before I dare move. Then I scramble up the beach, keeping my head low.
“Inventory!” I whisper into the MEEPosphere, then select my night-vision goggles and a laser gun.
I pause at the trailhead where they disappeared, which leads back to the treehouse. Good. I know this path well, which gives me an advantage over the stalker. I tuck myself behind a tree and peer through my goggles. Wyn walks the middle of the trail, clearly visible in the moonlight. The stalker remains several paces behind him, keeping in the shadows of the trees. Though I can’t see his face, I can tell by his shape that he his tall and large and male.
I continue several paces behind, laser gun ready, waiting for my shot. If I can just manage to shoot the stalker in the leg, wound him enough to slow him down but not kill him, I might be able to catch him.
As we near the treehouse, a twig snaps under the stalker’s foot. He dodges behind a tree as Wyn whips his head around.
“Nixy?” Wyn calls.
Damn.
I remain frozen behind my own tree.
For a moment, all I hear is the forest’s usual nighttime hum.
Slowly, carefully, I peer out from my hiding place. Wyn has gone still, his eyes scanning the forest around him. Then he shrugs and continues to the treehouse.
As we arrive at the compound, I wait in the shadows, planning my next move. Wyn begins climbing the rope ladders to the rooftop platform. The stalker waits for him to ascend the first level, then follows him like a ninja.
Whoever he is, he’s good.
I circle around the compound and quickly, quietly, scale the wooden planks of an adjacent tree. I cut across a rope bridge to a small perch among the highest treetops. From here I have a perfect view of the platform—I adjust my night-vision goggles—and a perfect shot.
I watch as Wyn’s head finally appears through the platform’s trapdoor. He picks up the remote, then reclines in the hammock.
Is he going to sleep?
I’m a little put out that he’s left me alone on the beach—at least for all he knows—but I don’t have time to get bent out of shape. A moment later the stalker’s head pops through the opening.
Well, I’ll be damned.
If it isn’t Rico Suave.
Though I’d love to shoot the handsome right off his face, a laser gun to the head will surely kill him. Instead I bide my time and wait for him to finish climbing the ladder. When his full body finally emerges,