didn’t know what to say. A war? People killing children? His mind grabbed for understanding. “Who are they?”
“The enemy. Outside these woods is very dangerous. Just try to survive as best you can until this war is over.” The man walked past Jak, moving toward the door.
Jak spun around. “Wait. Mister. Can you help me?”
The man turned back. “This place is yours. It’s well hidden from the road. You can live here.”
“But . . . but who . . . who does it belong to?”
“It’s on my property.” He looked around the room, glanced at the empty cots against the wall. “It was going to be a camp for children, but the foundation constructing it lost funding so it came with the land.”
Jak looked around, desperate. Foundation? Funding? Jak didn’t know what those words meant. He was happy to have shelter, a wood stove that was warming the room, but the man before him had just caused his world to crash for the second time in his short life. “When will the war end? I need to get home to my baka.”
The man’s lips pressed together, and he shook his head. “Everywhere has been evacuated. Your baka is gone now. You must survive on your own.”
Gone? No. His insides fell and he swallowed.
“I saw helicopters once,” he said, trying to hold on to his hope. “I think they were there to rescue me.”
The man narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “Enemy helicopters. They were looking for you, but not for rescue. If you see a plane or a helicopter again, or hear a vehicle, stay out of sight, you hear? The police are on the enemy’s side too. Don’t trust anyone. If you need something, my house is that way.” The man pointed to the far wall of the cabin. “I know someone, and I have a vehicle. I’m able to go into town sometimes and get supplies. It’s very, very dangerous, but with the help of my friend, it’s possible.”
“How far is town?” Jak asked. How far is the enemy? Where am I?
“Very far. You’re safe if you stay here in these woods. I have to go now.” With that, the man turned, and walked out of the cabin, closing the door behind him.
Jak stood in the middle of the room, his brain cloudy with confusion and shock, his legs not wanting to work. When he finally pulled himself from the fog he was in, he rushed to the door, throwing it open and looking out into the fast-falling snow.
The man was gone.
Jak heard a yip and saw Pup running toward him, the limp body of a rabbit hanging from his mouth. He opened the door wider so Pup could come inside. He dropped the dead rabbit on the wood floor as Jak closed the door, leaning against it as he looked around his new home. He could sleep here and not have to look for a cold cave. It was warm and dry and yet . . . his heart felt empty.
He remembered the TV Baka always had on. News, she called it. All about war and fire. Sometimes it made Baka’s eyes get shiny and her mouth turn down. She said it was far away, that war, but it must have come closer. All the way to his baka. And to him.
Your baka is gone now. You must survive on your own.
Survive.
On his own.
Again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Harper sat up abruptly, a scream on her lips, the sheets tangled around her legs. The dream. It’s the dream again. She was in the car with her parents. They were chatting in the front. She watched the woods go by, her eyes beginning to shut, and then as suddenly as that, she was falling, falling, her stomach dropping into her feet as vomit rose to her lips. Cold. So miserably cold. Water dripping down her face. Or was it blood? She ran a hand over her sweat-drenched hair, and for a moment it seemed that the dream had followed her from sleep to wakefulness. But no, it was just the clamminess of fear. She smoothed the tangles back, swallowing down the sob that was clawing at her throat.
Somehow, she had known she’d have the dream when she went to bed the night before. They always occurred when she was mentally exhausted or emotionally distressed, and going from the Driscoll murder scene two days before to the group home yesterday, where she’d had a night shift, was obviously the catalyst.