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Prologue
The damp from themulch seeps through my sock, stones biting into my skin through the thin fabric.
I shift my weight to my other foot, the one in the blood-soaked sneaker. Just then, a fat raindrop splashes my nose like an obnoxious taunt, reminding me I’m still here.
Alone.
Alive. But alone.
My clothes, still damp and musty from yesterday’s rain, cling to me. I’ve been here for one night. I should count them. The more that come, the smaller my chance of being found.
I shiver, pushing away further thoughts. I need to concentrate on walking. One weak step at a time.
A sound makes me squint up through the tree branches. It’s a tiny rumble. But it’ssomething.
I break into a run, feeding oxygen to my aching muscles. Branches tear at my skin, embedding my flesh with dirt. The trees don’t want me to leave. The forest wants to suck me up and swallow me whole.
A branch scrapes across my cheek, the burn and throb in my skin instantaneous. But I ignore it, pushing forward as the sound grows louder.
I want to call out, but they won’t hear me.
There’s a clearing up ahead.
So close.
They’re right above me now, the sound almost deafening. My heartbeat matches the deep vibrations coursing through the previously still air.
So close.
I rush forward, a warm, comforting sensation sparking in my chest at the thought of seeing my grandparents. I imagine helping Gran make lasagna. Reading those adventure stories with my grandfather before bed. The ones I pretend I’m too old for but we read anyway because we both secretly love them. Later, I’ll sleep in the bedroom they decorated for me. The one with walls the color of sand and a print of a beach with glowing water.
So close.
The air is punched from my lungs and dirt smashes into my face, reaching inside my mouth as I fall. I tug my foot, but my sneaker is snagged on a root. My ankle stings as I twist it at an unnatural angle to free myself.
Nine of my nails are black as I sink them into the ground to push to my feet. I don’t know what happened to the tenth. The tip of my finger is red, caked with dried blood instead.
I stagger, planting a palm against a thick trunk to steady myself.
So close.
I break through the tree line and throw my arms in the air, screaming at the top of my lungs.
Raindrops fall into my eyes, the noise from the downpour muffling the sound I’m craning to hear. It keeps falling, unrelenting, and I struggle to see.
The sound quietens.
Pain shoots up my leg and causes me to drop to my knees.
So I crawl.
I bite my lip to stop the tears as I inch toward the center of the open scrubland.
Theyhaveto see me.
A deep bellow of thunder rumbles through the air, unnerving my every cell, and leaving them shaking in its wake. The earth groans beneath my hands and knees.
Then it falls quiet.
