I know Realm’s right—I really do. “I can’t leave him,” I say. “Please don’t make me leave James behind.” This could end him—literally end James if The Program gets ahold of him. “Please,” I try one last time.
A figure materializes in the doorway and my heart stops. At first I can’t tell if it’s James or a handler. I’m about to scream, but the person turns on the light. My stomach sinks.
“Dallas is waiting in the car,” Cas says impatiently. He’s disheveled, fidgety, and when he glances around the room, I can’t help but think he’s looking for The Treatment. I wonder if he was the one in my room earlier just as he goes to the dresser, grabbing the duffel bag from the top and stuffing my clothes inside.
“Sloane,” Realm says, touching my knee. “We’ll find him—I promise. But right now you have to come with us. If not . . . we’ll make you. I’m doing what has to be done to keep you safe. I hope you believe that.”
There’s a sharp pinch of betrayal, and I push him away, climbing out of the bed. I pull on a sweater and then meet Cas across the room, ripping the bag from his hands. He nods to me, apologetic. Through a teary gaze, I get the rest of James’s and my clothing.
I have no doubt Realm would throw me over his shoulder or drag me out of here kicking and screaming. What’s worse, I know James would never leave me behind like this. He would never do this to me.
My belongings fall to the floor and I squat down, covering my face as I sob into my hands. How can I do this? How can I live with myself if something happens to him?
There’s a second of quiet before Cas bends to pick up my bag. Realm comes to put his arms around me, leaning down and whispering into my hair how sorry he truly is. I continue to cry and let him stand me up, holding on to him so I won’t collapse. We walk from the room, but not before I cast one more look back over the room.
Empty.
We’ve been driving for hours. Stretches of highway blend together, lulling me in and out of sleep. I rest my head against the warm window in the backseat, Realm on the other side of me. There’s been no word on James—good or bad, but every time Dallas takes out her phone, my hopes climb and then crash to the ground. Last time I asked her about James, she assured me that if he’d been caught, she’d know instantly. She thinks he’s hiding or moping, but either way, she’ll find him. I hope she’s right.
Arthur Pritchard had been picked up by a group of handlers about thirty miles from our safe house. They hadn’t been watching us, not that we think, but the doctor’s intentions must have been reported. Someone turned Arthur Pritchard over, and now he belongs to The Program. I just hope he can talk his way out of it. He’s the creator—that has to count for something.
“How much longer?” I ask no one in particular. My mouth is dry, and I’m tired of riding in the van. The other rebels have headed to Denver, although I haven’t seen them since we left the Suicide Club back in Salt Lake. Cas didn’t want them to come with us this time. He said we have to protect The Treatment, which means keeping it a secret for as long as possible. Of course, I’m not currently in possession of the pill, so I guess I’m keeping secrets too.
Dallas tosses an uninterested look in my direction but doesn’t answer. “Cas,” she says, turning to him instead. “Can we stop? My bladder is about to burst.”
“Thanks for the unnecessary explanation,” he replies, smiling from the driver’s seat. He clicks on his blinker for the exit, and I straighten, ready to stretch my legs. Realm murmurs for her to be quick about it, and Dallas sneers, keeping her body turned away from him. This has been the pattern since we left. Whenever Realm asks her a question, Dallas directs Cas to answer him or stays silent, pretending Realm doesn’t exist.
Throughout the drive I’ve turned over Realm’s confessions in my head—every moment in which he lied to me. Realm had been in The Program more than once. He knew Roger. He remembers his life. He’s had an unfair advantage our entire friendship: He can never forget.
The car bumps the curb as we pull into the parking lot of a gas station, drawing me out of my thoughts. I’m quiet as we park, and Dallas and Cas quickly hop out. I’m slow to move, but I go outside without a word to Realm, and head into the small convenience store.
Dallas is already in the restroom, and the clerk eyes me suspiciously as I loiter. I’m worried he’ll recognize me from the news, and I opt to wait outside instead. I tighten my sweater around me and try to look inconspicuous. I reemerge in the parking lot, and a small blue car pulls up to the pump. I have to be more careful about being seen. I walk around the side of the building, keeping my face concealed. I wonder if James knows to stay in the shadows. I wonder if he even knows we’re gone yet.
I rest against the gray siding, waiting for the others. I glance to where the van is parked, but the tinted windows make it difficult to see inside. Which is just as well—I’m sure I’d find Realm guilt-stricken, watching me. I’m not going to make him feel better right now.
“You seem a little lost.”
I jump and see a guy walking over, his hands in the pockets of his zip-up hoodie. I recognize him immediately, even though he doesn’t look the same. I should run, but I’m rooted in place by fear.
“Who are you?” I ask. Clearly “Adam,” who I met at the suicide club, isn’t who he pretended to be that night. His hair is brushed smooth, his eyes blue and clear—not the black orbs his contacts had presented. He’s wearing a light-green hoodie, preppy in an Abercrombie way, not a returner way. He’s also older than I first thought—midtwenties maybe. “Are you a handler?” I demand, afraid someone is about to jump out and grab me.
Adam laughs. “No, Sloane. I’m not a part of The Program—but I am interested to hear your thoughts on it.” He pulls his hand out of his sweater pocket, and I flinch like he’s going to Taser me. He holds out a business card, but I can only stare at him.
“It’s okay,” he says gently. “I promise, I want to help.”
“Well, that’s the second time I’ve heard that in the last twenty-four hours. I didn’t believe him, either.” But Arthur Pritchard could have been telling the truth—after all, The Program took him. Is it possible Adam is telling the truth too?
“Why are you following me?” I ask, darting a look behind him. I expect Realm to show up at any second, but then again, I’m not sure if I want him to. Will it put him danger?
“I don’t mean to scare you,” Adam says. “But, Sloane . . . you have to understand—you’re a big deal in my world.” He offers his card again, and this time I take it. I’m caught off guard by what it says.
“Kellan Thomas,” I read, then look up surprised. “You’re a reporter?”
“For the New York Times,” he responds. “Been following your story since you disappeared last month. You’ve taken me on a hell of a chase.” He smiles. I go to hand him back his card, but he waves it off, telling me to keep it.
“I didn’t tell you right away because I wanted to check your state of mind. In case you’ve forgotten, messing with returners is against the law. I had to make sure you wouldn’t turn me in. But some laws are meant to be broken, especially ones that keep secrets. Will you talk to me, Sloane? Will you tell me your story?”
“Why? What can you do?” I’m beginning to feel anxious; Adam’s—Kellan’s—presence here is proving we’re not that difficult to find. The Program could show up at any second. Arthur had told us the public wasn’t on our side. Can Kellan possibly change that? Will he end up like Arthur if he tries?
“I’ll be honest,” Kellan says. “The paper’s been burying my stories, and I have yet to gain access to any of The Program’s procedures or methods. They operate under cloaked secrecy, and for a public health institution, that seems a bit unethical. But you and James Murphy—you’re a national scandal. There’ve been other returners, but none with the story you have: a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde. The world is starting to root for you. I can only imagine what The Program thinks of that. I’d like to find out. Let me tell your side of things, bring some awareness to what’s happening inside the facilities. What did they do to you, Sloane? What happens inside The Program?”