Caroline senses the need to break the awkwardness. “We did well today, huh?”
I smile in her direction. Her eyes are a soft gray, and they tell me everything I need to know. She is kind and giving … and she will not win this race.
Harper hands Dink a stick from the fire, and the boy uses it to draw bunnies in the dirt. “We did do well,” Harper says to Caroline, returning to her seat. “We’ll do even better tomorrow.”
I want to ask how she can be sure. But then I realize she can’t be. It’s just what leaders say to inspire the troops. Harper twists her long blond hair into a bun and spears it with a thin twig. Her green eyes dance in the firelight, and I wonder what she’s like when she’s at home. Whose child she is. What her room looks like. I wonder if we had gone to the same high school, if we’d be friends, or if we’d ignore each other, too different to connect outside of this race. I’ll tell you one thing, I bet having a friend like Harper would have made life at Ridgeline High a lot more exciting.
“Do you think we’ll —” Caroline starts to say.
“Guys,” Levi interrupts. “Look at this.”
We all look at his open hand. He’s holding his white earpiece.
The red light is blinking.
No one says anything for a long moment, then everyone fumbles into their pockets or bags for their own devices. When we’ve each retrieved them, we hold them out on display. They still work. Even after all that rain. I breathe a sigh of relief, then wonder whether this should actually worry me rather than provide peace of mind.
Seven lights blink, creating a circle of red flashes around the fire. I count the devices. There are too few, I realize.
Dink starts crying softly.
“It’s okay. It’s fine.” Caroline pulls him into a hug. “We’ll tell you what it says.”
“What? Did you lose your device?” Titus asks Dink, laughing. Though I’d also like to know, I want to slap him for asking.
Dink cries harder, and Caroline gives Titus a look that’s supposed to shut him up.
“And where are your Pandoras?” Titus adds, looking back and forth between Caroline and Dink.
“They didn’t make it,” she says for them both. “And Dink did lose his device, but it was an accident.”
Titus tilts his head and presses his lips together, like he’s being sympathetic. “It’s not his fault. This race isn’t cut out for certain people.”
Caroline’s face reddens. She jabs a finger in his direction. “Listen, kid —”
“Guys.” Levi lifts his hand and refers to the device. “Can we listen to the message now, please?”
Titus shrugs like he doesn’t care, and everyone starts to put their devices into place. But me … I can’t stop watching Caroline glare at Titus. Maybe I underestimated her. Each of us has a reason back home to fight through this jungle. Caroline has one, too, I’m sure. But she also has a reason sitting right next to her.
I feel someone staring and glance over to find Guy studying me. I make a what? face. He points to his ear as if to say I’m lagging behind. I roll my eyes and shove it into place.
As soon as I do, a wave of anxiety rolls over my shoulders. Harper gives us a thumbs-up. Everyone besides Dink touches the red blinking lights. The clicking and static noises begin, and I feel my body tighten with anticipation. I know that across the jungle and here in front of me, other Contenders are probably hearing the same message. But for some reason, it’s as if the woman is speaking directly to me.
“If you’ve been keeping count, you’ll realize this evening concludes day six of the race. You have until noon on the fourteenth day to arrive at base camp. Therefore, you have approximately eight more days remaining to reach your destination.”
My skin crawls thinking about spending another eight days in this place. I don’t know how I will do it. As I look around the campsite, I understand now more than ever that I may not have had a prayer before I met these people.
“We are so very proud to have such a diverse group of Contenders this year. It will make for an exciting race.” The woman pauses and I hear paper rustling. “You may be interested to know that exactly one hundred and twenty-two people entered the Brimstone Bleed.”
A hundred and twenty-two people? I think back to the first day at the starting line, to all the nameless faces. I wish I knew them. I wish I knew where they were now. A new thought occurs to me: If we had all decided to race as a team and demanded to share the winning prize, could these people have created enough of the Cure for everyone?
The woman shuffles more papers.
“There are currently one hundred and fourteen Contenders competing in the Brimstone Bleed.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Contenders around me remove their devices, but I stay still. I keep waiting for an explanation. Why are there fewer Contenders now than there were six days ago?
You know the answer, my mind whispers.
The device suddenly feels too large. It’s going to grow until it splits my ear wide open. I snatch it out and throw it to the ground. “What happened to them?” I yell to no one in particular. “Where are the other Contenders?”
Titus chuckles. “Seriously?”
My head turns in his direction. “Yeah, seriously. Spell it out for me.”
“Okay, they’re dead.” He slides his hand across his throat. “Jungle meat.”
“Real nice,” Harper says, looking disgusted.
“Yeah, you know what, why don’t you take a walk?” Levi adds.
“You going to make me?” Titus asks, laughing.
“Yes, we might,” Ransom says, next to his brother.
“Please.” Titus snorts. “I’ll whip you both and wipe my ass while I’m at it.”
Guy stands up.
Titus sizes him up for a long moment, then opens his arms out wide. “I don’t know why everyone’s jumping on me anyway. The girl asked a question.”
“And you answered it,” Guy says. He nods his head toward the jungle. “Go blow off some steam.”
Titus’s mouth quirks on one side like everything’s a big joke. “I’ll go. But I’ll be back.” Before he leaves, his eyes land on me. He searches my face and then looks down into my lap where Madox is sleeping. Titus narrows his eyes.
I clutch Madox closer, and Titus laughs.
“See you later, compadres.”
After Titus disappears, Guy turns around. He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he eyes the same thing Titus did — Madox. They want him, I suddenly realize. It’s why they’re both traveling with us.
The thought makes my stomach turn. For a minute there, I figured they wanted the same thing I did during this race — the comfort of companionship. But they only want what will help them win.
Is that so terrible? I wonder. That they want to save the life of someone they love?
The things I’m thinking feel too big for my head to hold, like they need somewhere to go.
“I’m here for my brother,” I blurt out.
Guy’s eyes flick from Madox to me. His face stays hard and unreadable, but he sits down. I imagine it’s the best invitation I’ll get from him.
“He’s nineteen years old. Only three years older than me.” When I glance around, I notice Harper is looking at me with a strange expression. Envy, maybe. “He likes these glossy comic books about aliens?” I say it like a question, because I’m not sure how everyone is taking my verbal vomit. But no one stops me from continuing. “And he still has these action figures that my grandma gave him. They’re from a fast-food joint by our old house. Which means they’re worthless, you know? But he keeps them anyway.” I pull in a long breath. “He likes vanilla pudding, but only if it’s really cold, and he has about thirty different colognes that are half used.”