survivors out there who were living the same way he had, maybe worse. Killing, freezing, starving, loneliness shriveling their souls.
What would happen to those people when they were found? Nobodies with nothing. Throwaways like he had been.
The door opened and Laurie Gallagher rushed in, looking . . . hmm, he didn’t yet know the word for how Laurie looked in that moment. Worried, but beyond that. Harper stood, and so did he. Laurie made a crying sound in the back of her throat and rushed to Harper first, hugging her and then letting go, running her hands down her hair, touching her bandages and making clucking sounds, and looking at her face like she was trying to make sure she was really alive. Then she moved to Jak making the same clucking sound as she hugged him tightly and then stepped back, looking at them both.
“I was so distraught when I heard. Oh my goodness, well, sit down. You must be traumatized.”
Distraught. That was the word. Worried only in a way that made your hair fly around your head, your eyes get big and round, and your hands flap everywhere.
Harper sat and so did Jak, as Laurie pulled up a chair and they told her what had happened on the edge of the waterfall. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she listened, blotting at them with a tissue and shaking her head. “Thank God he was there. I knew, I just knew something was wrong.” She grabbed Jak’s hand, squeezing. “I’m just so thankful you’re okay.” She shook her head again. “Oh dear, and your grandfather. How is he, Jak?”
“He’s in a coma,” Jak said. He didn’t remember the rest of the words the doctor had said because his step-grandmother had come in the room, and Jak had left as quickly as possible after that.
Laurie squeezed his hand again, her eyes soft. “Whatever you need, Mark and I are here.” She looked up suddenly, letting go of his hand. “Oh, the press conference,” she said pointing at the TV, the show they’d been waiting to come on. Harper pressed the thing with buttons that made the sound on the television go up. He kept forgetting words because there were so many new ones running through his mind, and some were more important to him than others.
Mark stepped in front of a microphone, looking very serious. “Today the Montana Department of Justice has been made aware of an unknown number of illegal and highly disturbing programs. These programs are being operated around the country using children who have been removed from the foster care system under false pretenses, and/or babies who are bought from mothers who are members of social programs, most especially drug or alcohol. We’re in the midst of specifically identifying who these children might be. These programs have been operating for many years. Some of the victims may currently be adults who have grown up in these programs.” He looked straight into the camera. “If you have any information regarding this crime, or if you are a person who was in a state-run program and asked to give up your child in exchange for money, or play a role for money, please contact us.” He paused and the crowd grew quiet. “If you are one of these children, please contact authorities immediately. You have been wronged, and we want you to help us put those who abused you behind bars.” He held up a photograph of Dr. Swift. “This man is a prime suspect and wanted for murder among a vast list of other crimes. If you see him or know of his whereabouts, please call the number on the screen. Do not approach him. He is armed and dangerous.”
And angry, Jak thought. But . . . more angry. Enraged. Yes. He’d bet Dr. Swift was enraged. Just like Driscoll had been when he’d found out his mother had interfered with his study. Just like his grandfather had been . . . enraged enough to kill. But he hadn’t said a word about that.
The crowd started yelling and Mark pointed to a woman in front. “Agent Gallagher, for what purpose are these children being taken? What is this program exactly?”
“They’re being placed and studied in harsh environments to determine survival skills. Perhaps trained. Each camp, for lack of a better word, may be different. But they’re most likely being set up in remote areas miles from civilization. Then they’re being sold to those who wish to use their