The Host(130)

I thought I heard something behind me when I reached the octopus-like juncture where all the sleeping halls met. I looked back, but I couldn’t see anyone in the dim cave. People were beginning to stir. Soon it would be time for breakfast and another day of work. If they’d finished with the stalks, the ground in the east fields would need to be turned. Maybe I would have time to help… later…

I followed the familiar path to the underground rivers, my mind in a million other places. I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything in particular. Every time I tried to focus on a subject—Walter, Jared, breakfast, chores, baths—some other thought would pull my head away in seconds. Melanie was right; I needed to sleep. She was just as muddled. Her thoughts all spun around Jared, but she could make nothing coherent of them, either.

I’d gotten used to the bathing room. The utter blackness of it didn’t bother me anymore. So many places were black here. Half my daylight hours were lived in darkness. And I’d been here too many times. There was never anything lurking under the water’s surface, waiting to pull me under.

I knew I didn’t have time to soak, though. Others would be up soon, and some people liked to start their day clean. I got to work, washing myself first, then moving on to my clothes. I scrubbed at my shirt fiercely, wishing I could scrub out my memory of the past two nights.

My hands were stinging when I was done, the dry cracks on my knuckles burning worst of all. I rinsed them in the water, but it made no noticeable difference. I sighed and climbed out to get dressed.

I’d left my dry clothes on the loose rocks in the back corner. I kicked a stone by accident, hard enough to hurt my bare foot, and it clattered loudly across the room, bouncing off the wall and landing with a plunk and a gurgle in the pool. The sound made me jump, though it wasn’t all that loud next to the roar of the hot river in the outer room.

I was just shoving my feet into my scruffy tennis shoes when my turn was up.

“Knock, knock,” a familiar voice called from the dark entry.

“Good morning, Ian,” I said. “I’m just done. Did you sleep well?”

“Ian’s still sleeping,” Ian’s voice answered. “I’m sure that won’t last forever, though, so we’d best get on with this.”

Splinters of ice pinned my joints in place. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

I’d noticed it before, and then forgotten it in the long weeks of Kyle’s absence: not only did Ian and his brother look very much alike, but—when Kyle spoke at a normal volume, which so rarely happened—they also had exactly the same voice.

There was no air. I was trapped in this black hole with Kyle at the door. There was no way out.

Keep quiet! Melanie shrieked in my head.

I could do that. There was no air to scream with.

Listen!

I did as I was told, trying to focus in spite of the fear that stabbed through my head like a million slender spears of ice.

I couldn’t hear anything. Was Kyle waiting for a response? Was he sneaking around the room in silence? I listened harder, but the rush of the river covered any sounds.

Quick, grab a rock! Melanie ordered.

Why?

I saw myself crashing a rough stone against Kyle’s head.

I can’t do it!

Then we’re going to die! she screamed back at me. I can do it! Let me!

There has to be another way, I moaned, but I forced my ice-locked knees to bend. My hands searched the darkness and came up with a large, jagged rock and a handful of pebbles.

Fight or flight.

In desperation, I tried to unlock Melanie, to let her out. I couldn’t find the door—my hands were still my own, clutched uselessly around the objects I could never make into weapons.

A noise. A tiny splash as something entered the stream that drained the pool into the latrine room. Only a few yards away.

Give me my hands!

I don’t know how! Take them!

I started to creep away, close to the wall, toward the exit. Melanie struggled to find her way out of my head, but she couldn’t find the door from her side, either.

Another sound. Not by the far stream. A breath, by the exit. I froze where I was.

Where is he?

I don’t know!

Again, I could hear nothing but the river. Was Kyle alone? Was someone waiting by the door to catch me when he herded me around the pool? How close was Kyle now?

I felt the hairs on my arms and legs standing on end. There was some kind of pressure in the air, as though I could feel his silent movements. The door. I half turned, easing back in the direction I’d come, away from where I’d heard the breath.

He couldn’t wait forever. The little he’d said told me he was in a hurry. Someone could come at any time. Odds were on his side, though. There were fewer who would be inclined to stop him than there were who might think this was for the best. And of those inclined to stop him, even fewer who’d have much of a chance of doing that. Only Jeb and his gun would make a difference. Jared was at least as strong as Kyle, but Kyle was more motivated. Jared would probably not fight him now.