Chapter Nine - Good Boys Don't Bite

When Rowdy wakes up the next evening, Justice and Muse are standing at the foot of the bed, watching her, their heads tilted in opposite directions.

The startle comes before anything else, numbing the excruciating pain in her head for several seconds.

“Fucking—”

“We’ve been staring at you for almost seven minutes. Your self-perseveration instincts need work, Rowdy . . .” Justice says.

“. . . But your face is already proof of that,” Muse finishes.

Rowdy narrows her eyes as the throbbing ache from the night before starts hammering away at the inside of her skull again. “Do you two get paid to be creepy bitches or something?”

“Yes,” they say together.

“Aren’t you glad to be stuck under house arrest with us?” Muse asks.

Rowdy shakes her head gingerly then frowns.

House arrest?

“It could be worse,” Justice insists. “At least we didn’t have to sneak in and out through the window like Jen, Hannah, and Jackie. Imagine if we broke a nail.”

“Etienne announced that you killed the human and we’re your accomplices,” Muse says. “Doesn’t seem your type, but no judgment. We all have to eat, and we’re always happy to help a friend in need.” The twins giggle together, a sound that reminds Rowdy more of squawking birds than it does laughter.

Thick dread cements itself into her bones in the wake of their shrieking.

“I didn’t kill the cheerleader. He knows I didn’t.”

The twins sober instantly and shrug, exaggerating the movement hard enough to make their shoulders touch their ears.

“You’re the one who just had to have a little outburst at the welcome ceremony,” Muse says.

“And in the mess hall,” Justice adds.

“And when you were alone with him.”

“Did you seriously not think he’d get you back for all of that?” Justice scoffs.

I guess we have to hit back twice as hard, Rowdy thinks as her eyelids start to get heavy. The pain eases enough for her to drift as Muse and Justice start to squabble over what fair and unfair punishments would be for her. She catches “public lashing” before the world disappears out from under her again.

Rowdy’s facing the outside wall of the cabin with Benny tucked in tight behind her when the telltale sound of the air ripping apart echoes off the trees and wakes her. The Guard arrives seven minutes past midnight, four if her watch has done its yearly three-minute slowdown early.

“Window, Rowdy,” Muse whispers somewhere above her. “Go the long way to the boathouse through the woods. Jen and Hannah are already waiting.”

“Running’s gonna make me look worse,” Rowdy whispers back. Her body trembles at the thought of having to stand, but she thinks maybe she can do it if she has to.

“Run from the bad luck this time and instead of face first into it.” Benny’s voice sends a cool shock of surprise down her back despite how warm her tone is.

“Think so?”

A thrill goes through her as Benny squeezes her side affectionately. “I’ll catch up with you eventually.”

There’s a space she leaves for Jackie’s voice that doesn’t fill. It takes her a moment to recall Jackie left with Hannah and Jen however many hours before. Pain arcs across her head, and she grimaces. Through the muddled, bruised parts of her brain, she feels the kick of adrenaline.

“How long until they get up here?” Rowdy asks.

“You really should go now if you’re going to,” Muse says.

Her legs brace, and there’s a soft thump as Benny hits the floor. Rowdy’s haste makes her realize too late that trying to shove herself off the bunk would have unintended consequences. The tangle of blankets around Rowdy’s ankles sends her crashing down too, a flail of knees and elbows as they both try to get out of each other’s way.

“Will you not—”

“Go that way!”

Rowdy slips sideways, going half-way under the bunk to their left. Her ankle comes free just as Benny’s hand yanks the afghan further over her own face. Standing swirls Rowdy’s vision into glittering gray nothing, but she gets both feet under her and pushes.

The world somersaults. Pain whispers across her scalp as the support beam for the top bunk clips the side of her head.

Footsteps on the main path spur her on faster. There’s barely time for her to picture what fate might await her if she doesn’t run. All she feels is the stab of fear and then the sickening heat of becoming prey. On her path to the window, she trips over Benny’s shoulder. Her hand flies, reaching for something, anything. The wood of the bunk slams into her palm and she holds fast, using the speed to lift her other foot up over where Benny’s already twisting to flatten herself against the floor to get out of her way.

The footsteps get louder, barely fifty feet from the front porch steps.

Her eyes land on the back wall where the square window is no longer covered by the UV curtain. It hangs from a single tack, perfectly still as fresh twilight air breathes into the room. The trees are only a few feet out from the cabin, their trunks a puzzle of horrible, elongated faces in the near dark. The twinge in her legs doesn’t give her much confidence for her endurance.

Benny starts to say her name, but Rowdy’s already lunging for it.

Her fingers barely curl around the top edge of the window frame just as the front door clicks open.

The pressure in her ears pops and begins to crash in. She can’t decipher any of it, the sheer noise forcing her to freeze. Night air wafts sweet across her face. The ghostly image of Leena beckons to her in the spaces between the trees and their terrible faces.

“I’m sorry,” Leena whispers. “You weren’t fast enough.”

Rowdy trades one set of terrible faces for another as she takes a slow breath and turns. The Guard is five strong. Rowdy can’t recall a time before when they’ve ever moved in more than a pair.

It’s too difficult to look at them directly, so she keeps her eyes on the floor as she walks forward with her hands behind her back. Knowing that their eyeless faces are on her sends a phantom bead of sweat down her neck.

All of you will come with us, please.