The Defiant (17 page)

I open my eyes, but bright light makes them flare with pain. My head is throbbing, and the tubes in the back of my neck feel like they're on fire.

I push myself up off the wood floor, onto my knees. I move as quickly as I can, in battle mode. I don't know what's coming next.

I'm still in Miss Caroldean's dining room. I see scuffed leather boots walk past me. They belong to Mikal. I get a head rush and remain kneeling for a second.

Then Mikal leans down, his face in front of mine.

Before I can stop him, he kisses me quickly on the lips.

Then he dances out of the way as I lash out at him.

I want to vomit.

“Hey now,” he murmurs, as I get to my feet, hands balled into fists. “Nothing wrong with stealing a little sugar when you can.”

“Keep away from me.” My voice is like steel. I wipe my lips on my arm.

He laughs. “Don't worry. I'm not gonna touch you. I could have done anything to you when you were unconscious, but I left you alone. It wouldn't have been gentlemanly otherwise.” His thin grin curdles into a wide sarcastic smile.

“How long was I out?” I ask.

“Half an hour. You writhed and moaned like a baby the whole time. You kept muttering stuff that didn't make any sense. I just thought you should know that.”

“Where's your mom?”

“In the garden. She wanted me to personally supervise your waking.” He's smirking at me. “I told her it would be my pleasure.”

I put out a hand to steady myself on an oak cabinet. My head is spinning. I shake the dizziness off.

“Hurts, doesn't it?” Mikal asks.

“What would you know?”

He chuckles again.

My neck flares with pain. I wince, reaching back to feel the tubes. The place where they meet my flesh is painful and swollen, tender like a bruise.

“Now that my mom has flipped the switch once, she'll just do it again and again,” Mikal explains matter-of-factly. “Next time you'll be out for a couple hours. After that, maybe for a whole afternoon.” He laughs. “She's trigger-happy.”

I push myself off from the cabinet and stand shakily on my feet as I recover my balance. “I'm not scared of you, Mikal.”

His smile vanishes in an instant. “You will be.”

I look him dead in the eyes. “I fought and killed people tougher than you on the island—boys and girls alike. I'm not afraid of you, or your threats.” I stare him down. “You stole your mom's amulet, didn't you? To frame me.”

“Prove it.”

“You know I can't.” I don't want to get into a fight with him right now, but I can't let it drop.
Or else he might set me up again before nighttime, before I can get to that black oak tree and the secret that awaits me there.
“Why?” I ask.

He smiles again, even broader. “Because you're a scummy rebel that no one cares about. You might have been a big shot on Island Alpha, but you're nobody here. I can do whatever I want with you.” He turns away. “You better go clean yourself up. You drooled on your blouse, and on the floor too.” He strides out the door, leaving me standing there.

I stare after him. Then I glance at the grandfather clock standing against the wall across from the front door. It's just past five in the afternoon. I only have four hours left until I will try to make my escape. I must act as normally as possible until then, so that no one suspects me.

“Alenna?” I suddenly hear a voice ask.

Startled, I turn around and see Lorene standing there. I'm not sure where she's come from. She's watching me with her intense blue eyes.

“Yes?” I ask warily.

“I brought you this.” She holds her hand out. A red apple rests in her palm.

Tentatively, I reach out and take the apple from her. I'm surprised by her gesture of kindness. She keeps watching me, unblinking. I'm not sure why she brought me the apple.
Maybe to make up for her mom and her brother's cruelty?

“I thought you might be hungry,” she tells me somberly. “I waited until Mikal left.”

“Thank you,” I say.

She nods. “Eat it fast, before my mother sees.” She pauses for a moment, like she wants to say something more. But then she turns quickly and is about to walk away into the hallway.

“Wait—” I call out.

She hesitates. “Yes?”

“Were you going to tell me something else?”

She looks back at me balefully. “You should know something about the other girls who came here. . . .” Her words trail off into a whisper.

“What?” I whisper back.

“Not all of them survived. . . .”

Then, before she can say any more, she turns and rushes out of the room.

I stand there for a moment, contemplating her words. I feel scared. But at least her honesty makes me feel like there's some hope for people in the Hellgrounds after all. For her to tell me the truth about the other girls means she can't be deluded and evil like her mom and brother.

I look for her in the hallway, but there's no sign of her. If she had stayed, I would have told her that I'm not afraid to die. And I would have thanked her for telling me about the other girls. It means I need to be more cautious than I thought.

I bring the apple to my lips and take a bite. I'm starving. I
quickly devour the entire apple, eating the seeds and core. Then I wipe my hands on my jeans.

Slowly, I walk over to the front door. I'm still recovering from being knocked unconscious. My head feels heavy and my vision is a bit blurry.

I head outside to find Miss Caroldean and get a list of chores for the rest of the day. I'm worried that I don't have the second part of David's message. But I tell myself that if things go well, tonight will be my very last night in the farmhouse—and the start of my journey back to Liam and the destruction of the UNA. But if things go wrong, then I might never leave this place alive.

T
HAT NIGHT
, I
SIT
on my mattress, watching the hands of the clock in the bedroom click inexorably forward. The clock face is dotted with tiny glass stars. It's handmade. Maybe even built right here on this farm. Or maybe it predates the UNA and the Hellgrounds. Maybe it's from a simpler time.

I only have forty minutes left before nine fifteen comes around. It's already dark outside. I'm nervous about leaving the safety of the farm, although I'll be relieved to escape from Miss Caroldean and Mikal. I just hope that I can make it to the black oak tree before I'm spotted.

I'm so exhausted from working on the farm that I'm on the verge of falling asleep. I pinch my leg, forcing myself to stay awake, and glance at the clock. Now it's almost nine. I sit up on my mattress.

I wait and listen. The farmhouse has gone silent. The twins are probably sleeping already.

I soon hear the faint creak of a faucet being turned on, and old iron pipes clattering in the walls underneath me. Then I hear tuneless singing, and I know Miss Caroldean is taking her nightly bath.

The time has come.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and quickly put my shoes on softly. Then I gently rest my feet on the floor.

I glance out the bedroom window. I can't see or hear Mikal from here. He might not be outside yet, but I suspect that he probably is. He usually goes from the barn directly to feed the dogs, and then inside for a late snack and a jug of cider.

I turn to the clock again.

It's precisely nine fifteen.

I risk standing up. The floorboards groan. I wince and pause. I think about taking off my shoes, but if I get caught outside and have to run, I'll need them on my feet.

I stand still for a moment, waiting. But no one seems to have heard anything. All Miss Caroldean can probably hear is her own voice, still singing off-key.

A few seconds later I hear the distant sounds of dogs yipping and barking in the kennels. I'm flooded with relief. Mikal is feeding the dogs their nightly supper of rinds and other leftovers. It's time for me to get moving.

I walk quickly and quietly across the wood floor, over to the door. I grasp the knob and turn it slowly.
I cannot get caught.

I take a deep breath and swing open the bedroom door. I step onto the landing. Farther down the long hall is the closed door of the twins' bedroom. I walk carefully and silently down the hall, over to the wide flight of wood stairs. I step on the outside of the beams, so the floor doesn't creak too much.

Slowly, I descend the staircase, as the sound of Miss Caroldean's singing grows louder. I'm going to have to walk right past the downstairs bathroom that she's bathing herself in—there's no other way out of the house. Of course, the door to the bathroom
is closed, so it's doubtful she'll even know that I'm there.

I reach the bottom of the stairs, and exhale.
Not much farther.
I look around the living room. I can hear the dogs barking out back, and Mikal's voice taunting them. If I go out the front door right now, I'll be safe. But there's still Miss Caroldean to get past, and I also need to gather the items from the kitchen.

Miss Caroldean's voice is loud, even through the bathroom door. She's switched songs, and is now singing a hymn about the greatness of Minister Harka.

I ignore her off-key warbling and start my journey toward the kitchen. I walk slowly, keeping to the rugs, so my feet don't make noise.

I reach the spacious kitchen and dart over to grab a knife from the wooden knife block. I take the largest, sharpest one I can find. The whole time I stay out of view from the windows, just in case Mikal walks around the house and decides to peer inside.

I snatch up a white cotton dishtowel from the countertop, along with a half-filled bottle of spirits sitting on a shelf above a cupboard. Then I leave the kitchen, turning to head past the bathroom again, on my way out the front door.

I consider trying to find Miss Caroldean's switch, to destroy it. But I know that it must be with her in the bathroom. She would never part with such an important tool of control.

Then, I suddenly realize that the singing has stopped. And so has the running water.

My heart lurches.
Did I lose track of time?
Miss Caroldean usually bathes for at least twenty minutes. Today, it's been less than ten.

I take a step forward, not sure what to do.

The floor creaks in the silence.

“Mikal?” I hear her voice call out. “Is that you, honey?”

I freeze.

The knife is in one hand. The towel and the alcohol are in the other.
David didn't say what to do if this happened.
He was trusting me not to get caught. My fingers tighten on the knife handle.

“Mikal?” Miss Caroldean calls out again.

I look down at the blade. Fighting drones in the forest is different from stabbing an old lady in her own house. But I can't let her get to that device again. If I have to kill her, then I will.

Then I hear the water turn back on. And a second later, Miss Caroldean's voice rings out, fervently singing the second verse of her hymn to Minister Harka.

I take a breath. Trying not to think about it, I walk through the living room. Right past the bathroom door. I just keep moving.

Within seconds, I reach the vestibule. My feet are louder here on the tiles. I reach the front door and take hold of the doorknob. I swing the door open. The hinges creak. In front of me stretches the cornfields under a full moon, and then beyond that, the pitch-black forest.

I step out into the hot night, gently closing the door behind me. I stare in the direction that David instructed, the one I've already memorized from my window upstairs. I can see the black oak tree he told me about. It looks far away from here.

Once I get into the fields, I'll be visible from the windows of the house. I'll also be alone outside with Mikal. If he deviates from his usual routine with the dogs, then I might get caught.

I need to start moving right away. I rush down the porch steps and straight into the fields.

I move quickly and silently. In places, the corn comes up to my waist. I keep hustling through it rapidly, toward the black oak, about a quarter of a mile away. The full moon allows me to see
where I'm going, but it also puts me at risk of being spotted.

Still, if I planned everything right, then Miss Caroldean and Mikal should be occupied for several more minutes. I should have enough time to reach the tree.

I risk a glance behind me at the farmhouse as I run. All is quiet and still. From here, the house looks peaceful and nice.

Just as I turn back around, I hear a loud barking sound. For a terrifying moment, I think that Mikal knows I'm out here. That he's unleashed his dogs on me. I crouch down, clutching my knife, dropping the towel and the bottle of alcohol.

But then, slowly, I realize it's just the barking of a lone dog. And I can hear Mikal cursing faintly in the distance. A dog must have escaped from the kennels and gotten loose into the cornfields behind the house. Hopefully, this distraction will buy me even more time.

I stand up and continue moving swiftly toward the black oak.

But, to my dismay, the barking starts getting louder. The dog is heading in my direction. He must have caught my scent.

I start running faster, telling myself that I have to get to the oak tree. I hear the dog getting even closer. I can hear it growling now, as well as barking. I look behind me as I run, and I see its dark silhouette moving through the corn, making the fields ripple.

There's no way to outrun this dog. I'm forced to stop and turn around, so it doesn't leap on me from behind.

I spin around just in time to see it standing there, about fifteen paces away in the corn. The dog is a black Doberman. It has stopped chasing me, but it's walking back and forth, barking madly. Growling and showing its white fangs in the moonlight.

“Shhh,” I say to it softly. “Stay!” My words don't do any good. These dogs are trained to corner any intruders—human or animal—and
attack upon Miss Caroldean's or Mikal's command.