Then we stare at the raccoon.
So that’s why it’d been acting strange all afternoon. Then again, what is strange for a Pandora?
Glancing up, I notice Titus licking his lips. Harper notices him ogling, too. She makes a face like she’s uncertain of what to do next. Finally, she says, “So the Pandoras haven’t shown us their full capabilities yet.”
“Maybe they aren’t even aware of them themselves,” Caroline muses.
Ransom turns his hand over several times in front of his face, while the rest of us pull away and try to relax on the ground. Even though it feels like something truly mind-bending has just taken place, we settle down to sleep. It’s the only thing we can do for now. Dink yawns, and Harper stretches out onto her back, gazing up into the canopy.
“Ransom, how about you and your brother take the first shift?” Harper says, her eyes still locked on the trees. “Caroline and Dink can go next, then I’ll go, then Guy and Titus, and finally, Tella.” Harper tears her eyes away from the jungle and looks back and forth between Guy and Titus. “We take shifts when we sleep, looking out for predators and insect hordes.” She glares at Titus. “And stray Pandoras.”
Titus doesn’t acknowledge her remark. He just lies back and folds his thick arms beneath his head. Even though he looks about eighteen, his enormous frame makes him appear much older. But right now — lying in the dirt like the rest of us — he doesn’t seem very menacing.
I watch as Guy stands up, dusts himself off, and searches for a place to sleep. I’m not sure why. There’s no magical spot that feels better than the rest. My heart picks up when he moves closer to where I’m sitting. He inspects the area only three feet away, kicking at rocks and pulling up stray vines. Then he sits back down. His eyes flick in my direction and a chill races over my arms. He nods his head, lies down, and closes his eyes.
Did he move next to me on purpose? Is he offering his protection?
Or am I his first target?
My God. I am in the epicenter of hell, and I’m trying to psychoanalyze some guy. Pathetic. Shaking my head, I lean back and try to find a comfortable position to sleep. Right as I’m about to drift off, I hear Caroline’s voice.
“I just don’t like that there aren’t any rules,” she says. “There should be rules.”
No one responds. I know she’s talking about the race. I’m sure everyone does.
We just don’t know what to say.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I wake up and am surprised to find I slept deeply, despite the small portion of delicious snake I ate. As I’m stretching, I glance up, thinking it might be morning. But that would mean I missed my shift for keeping watch.
Surveying our campsite, I note Guy sitting straight up, staring into the fire. I look around. Everyone else is asleep. I’m not sure why he’s ignoring me. It’s obvious he knows I’m up.
“Hey,” I whisper. He turns and looks at me. “Why isn’t Titus awake?”
Guy looks back at the fire. I’m not sure he’s going to answer. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t. But then he says, “Harper only woke me. Maybe she thought I would wake him up myself.”
He doesn’t finish his thought. That he didn’t wake Titus up.
“How long have you been keeping watch?” I ask.
Guy scratches his cheek. “A while.”
“It’s my turn, isn’t it?” I say. “You didn’t wake me up, either.”
He doesn’t respond.
“Okay, well. We need to get something straight.” I straighten and look directly at the side of his head. “You may think I’m weak, but I’m actually pretty damned determined to win this race. And I am going to do my part as long as I’m traveling with these people.” I gesture toward the sleeping Contenders. “It’s only fair.”
Guy cranes his neck. Not enough so that he’s fully looking at me, but enough to let me know he’s listening.
I reach down and pet my Pandora, who’s lost in dreams. Guy and I don’t say anything for several minutes. I’m trying to prove that I’m a contributing team member, and Guy is trying to prove … what? That he doesn’t trust me?
“You needed sleep,” he says suddenly. His voice, normally so deep, is almost jarring when he’s making an effort to keep it low.
I attempt to process what he’s saying. “So, you didn’t wake me up because you thought I needed more rest?’
Guy doesn’t move for a moment, but then he nods slowly.
“Because you think I can’t handle this race like the others can?” There’s a defensive edge to my words as I recall my dad trying to burn the earpiece. He didn’t believe I could handle this race, either.
He looks me dead in the face. “Because you looked tired.”
I hold his gaze for a moment, and as I do, a shiver shimmies down my spine. His eyes are the most phenomenal shade of blue I’ve ever seen. They’re not beautiful, exactly. More … startling. And the way he looks at me now — as if he sees through to the other side — makes him seem wildly unpredictable. I wonder about the deep white scar cutting through his right eyebrow. For some reason, it seems to say more than even his eyes do.
“Oh,” I manage to say. “Thanks, then. I guess.”
Guy looks up at the canopy and puts one hand on his lion. “Your Pandora is extraordinary.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say Guy just initiated a conversation. It stings that it’s only to dig for information. “Yeah,” I mumble. “The other Pandoras were picking on him a couple of days ago. I’m kind of happy he was able to prove his worth. Not just for my sake, but for his own.”
“You care about it,” Guy says. It’s not a question. He’s seen the way I cling to Madox.
I nod and wrap my arms around my waist.
Guy rubs his jawline. “The other Pandoras were intimidated.”
I glance at him, curious as to where he’s going with this. Shadows cast by the fire dance across his face. “What do you mean?”
“They must have” — Guy flicks his fingers near his nose and breathes in, like he’s sniffing something — “smelled it on him. They must have sensed his ability to replicate them. That has to be intimidating, knowing their only job is to help their Contender win and running into another Pandora that can do what they can just as easily.”
I watch Guy saying this, the sureness with which he speaks. “Maybe you’re right,” I say. He seems to be intuitive about a lot in this race. He found a flag within the first twenty-four hours. He knows how to handle himself in the jungle. And I’m certain he knows much more than he’s letting on. “Guy,” I say gently, “how much do you know about the Brimstone Bleed?”
The muscles in his arm tighten, and I’m sure I’ve heard the last I’ll hear from him today. But he surprises me again.
“I know some things,” he says. Then he looks at me. “But it isn’t anything that will help me or you win.” He clenches his fists. “Our families, even if they knew, weren’t allowed to tell us anything before we received our devices. If they had, there would have been consequences.”
I search his face and feel sure he’s telling the truth. There are so many questions I want to ask him, but I think he’s told me everything he’s willing to share for now. So instead, I try something different. “Do you think we’ll make it to the other side of the jungle in time?”
He tilts his head and studies me with what, strangely enough, looks like sympathy. “Tella, they’re not leading us to the other side of the jungle. They’re leading us to the center.”