Nemesis (Project Nemesis #1)(50)

Three other parties?

I hadn't known there were other teams besides ours. Three other groups meant at least forty people were out combing the valley. And they'd need nearly every reliable guy to fill them out, if they wanted enough muscle to intimidate the cousins into coming back.

So who's watching Min?

I felt a jolt in my system.

What was I doing? Searching the forest for people I didn't want to find?

Min is being held hostage.

Ferris glanced back at me from the shadow of a giant cedar. He was twenty yards ahead, barely visible among the trunks. "You coming, Noah?"

I plastered on an apologetic smile. "Give me a minute. I have to take a leak."

"Whatever." Ferris resumed his desultory march into the woods.

The minute he disappeared I turned and ran, across the field, around the camp, and over to where I'd parked my car by the side of the road. Thank God I'd agreed to drive. I slammed my seat belt on and peeled out, carving a rut in the gravel as I raced back toward town.

I was abandoning my team.

Ditching out on my job.

Maybe even committing "treason."



       
         
       
        

But I wasn't going to leave Min alone in a jail cell. This time, I was going to fight for what I believed in, no matter the consequences. I was going to do something.

I just didn't have any idea what.





42


MIN



I couldn't stop crying.

I was slumped on the floor of Sheriff Watson's holding cell, sobbing into my hands.

Tack was dead. Gone. Killed right in front of me.

And I hadn't been able to stop it.

Guilt pummeled me in waves. Tore me up inside.

Toby was perched on a stool down the hall, reading an old Entertainment Weekly. Ethan's right hand. Yesterday, I'd worried he might be the bigger threat, but that was foolish.

Ethan. Always Ethan. Before. Now. Always.

I'm going to kill him.

The violent thought swept away my complacency. Provided a counterpoint to grief and self-recrimination. Brought heat to my face. I stood up and gripped the bars.

If Ethan wants a war, I'll give him one.

But I had to get out of this stupid cell.

The sheriff's office was a dull affair. The front was a large square with a door leading out to Main Street. Two desks, some chairs, and a wooden counter dividing the room. Behind it ran a narrow hallway with locked rooms and two wide cells. A staircase at the far end descended to a basement level below.

Toby was sitting behind the counter, where he could watch the door and the hall at the same time, though he wasn't doing much of either. The keys were in his pocket-he'd made a production of showing them after shoving me inside the cell.

"Cool off, Melinda," he'd said lightly. "You'll be in here until you get with the program."

I'd tried to grab him through the bars, but only managed to smash my face against the cold steel. Toby had walked off, chuckling, twirling the key ring on his finger. He was enjoying his power trip. I'd collapsed in a corner and lost track of time.

Based on the light slanting across Toby's face, it appeared to be early evening. I needed to get out of there. But how? This was an actual, real jail cell. I couldn't escape without a key. I considered a dozen plans to lure Toby inside, but none were practical. For all his pigheadedness, Toby had a base, savage cunning. He'd be on guard for tricks.

"Hey, Toby!"

He looked up. 

"I haven't eaten all day."

"Bummer." Toby resumed reading.

Okay, that didn't work.

"I also have to go to the bathroom."

"There's one in there," he answered in a bored voice.

"Yes. And you can see it. Which isn't comfortable for me."

Toby flashed a wry smile. "I'm not letting you out, Min. Someone will bring us food, and I'll look away if you need to drop a deuce. But I'm not opening that door so you can shiv me with a jagged piece of tile." His grin soured. "Although, at least that'd be interesting. Who knew being a prison guard was so boring?"

Hinges squeaked, and a tiny bell jingled. Someone had come through the front door.

"Finally," Toby said, dropping his magazine on the counter. "I thought you guys forgot about me. Find those cousins?"

Muffled reply. Someone placed a tray on the counter. Toby picked up half a sandwich and shoved it into his mouth. Then a fist flashed out, cracking him across the bridge of his nose. Toby toppled backward with a garbled howl.

Noah vaulted the counter. Toby attempted to rise, a hand reaching for his waistband. Noah kicked him in the face, snapping his head back. Toby crumpled against the wall and lay still.

Noah put his hands on his knees, panting wildly. Then he glanced down the hall and spotted me. "It worked."

It took me a second to recover. Noah had destroyed Toby in a few heartbeats. I'd never seen that side of him. But we didn't have time to waste. "Keys. They're in his pocket."

Noah dug through Toby's pants, tossing aside the gun he found there. He removed the ring and raced down to my cell, only to stare at the gaggle of keys in confusion.

"It's the biggest one. Old looking. Here, just give them to me."

He handed them over gratefully, eyes darting back to where Toby lay sprawled out on the floor. "I hope he's okay. Concussions are no joke, and I . . . I kicked him pretty hard."

"Screw him," I said fiercely, slotting the right key home. "I hope he has brain damage."

Then I stopped, tears welling. "They killed him, Noah. Ethan slaughtered Tack like a pig."

"I'm so sorry, Min. I had no idea th-"

I grabbed his wrist through the bars, startling him. "I'm going to make them pay, Noah. All of them. For Tack." In a voice so cold, it scared me. I looked deep into his eyes. "You with me?"

He swallowed. Nodded. Then flashed a nervous grin. "I just ninja-kicked the director of security. Pretty sure I'm on the outs now."

Impossibly, I laughed. Hadn't realized how badly I needed his support. I pushed the gate open and we crept to the front. "Where'd you get food?"

Noah went to the door and peered outside. "I've been lurking across the street for twenty minutes, trying to think of some excuse to come in here. Then I saw Jessica walking up the block with that tray. Convincing her to give it over was easy."

"Smart. Where is everyone?"

"After what happened, some kids freaked out and bailed, so Ethan organized search parties to track them down. That left less than a dozen people in town. I figured it was the perfect time to break you out."



       
         
       
        

"Then we should get going." Taking a deep breath, I slipped outside, eyes canvassing the neighborhood. No one in sight. "Where to?" Noah asked.

I hesitated. "Not my trailer, that's too obvious. Or your house."

Noah's eyes lit up. "The ski lodge! I know where there's a spare key. It's secluded, too."

I nodded excitedly. "Perfect. Let's go."

"My car's over there." He pointed across the street.

The sheriff's office is beside Town Hall, across from the square. Bad memories came flooding back, but I pushed them aside. Glancing left and right like cartoon villains, we scurried across Main Street to the lot beyond the green. I shivered. Noah's Tahoe was parked right where the Nemesis trucks had been.

How could they all have disappeared?

Noah clicked open the doors. I let out a relieved breath.

Too soon.

"Hey! Look!"

My head whipped. Back across the square, Derrick was pointing in our direction. Ethan appeared, followed immediately by several others.

"Come on." Noah fumbled with his seat belt as they ran toward us.

"Hurry!" I shouted, then winced. The last thing I wanted to do was ramp up the pressure on Noah. But seconds later he backed us out, hopped a curb, and sped away down High Street. But we were going in the wrong direction. "The ski lodge is the other way!"

"I know where it is!" Noah snapped. "What do you want me to do, drive across campus? I'll swing around at the next block."

"Don't! They're piling into the van. We can't lead them to where we're gonna hide."

Noah's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "Where, then?"

"Head for the lake. Make them think we're going to your house, then double back."

A rattle, then a cough, then a thump. Noah's face went white.

"Uh . . . we're going to need a different plan." He glanced at me like a child caught doing something naughty. "I'm out of gas."

"Out of gas?"

"When was I supposed to fill up? There's nobody at the station!"

Noah turned left at Quarry Road, coasting downhill on fumes. We reached the junction where the highway becomes Main Street. "Turn right!" I shouted, forming a plan on the fly. Noah punched the gas for a last kick and we rolled into the industrial area at the foot of Miner's Peak. "Park in the sanitation lot." 

Noah made the turn and stopped. I snapped off my seat belt. "Let them think we ran into one of these buildings, since I was inspecting them today. Instead we'll sprint for the bridge and take a hiking trail around the rim to the trailer park. They might come looking, but there are dozens of mobile homes in there. We can try to hide until nightfall." Dicey, but without a working car, we were boxed in. Had to chance it.