THE ATTEMPT

His hands felt like ice. He rubbed them together, the dry scratching an even tempo in the otherwise quiet woods. The chill in the air was unacceptable, especially for so late in the spring. After he finished this, he would move to a warmer climate. But for now he was here, and the sun was starting to make its descent. She would be along at any moment. Then the cold would no longer matter. Soon his hands would be warm. He blew into them and hummed The Long and Winding Road, a tune that always made him smile. He heard a crack. A crunch. His skin began to purr. He lifted himself ever so slightly from his crouch, just enough
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to peer from behind wire-rimmed glasses over the craggy boulder that shielded him from view. A sigh escaped his throat at the sight of her. So small, so pert, so completely, utterly oblivious. Her blond hair lay in a thick braid down her back. It was the hair that had seduced him. So thick, so soft, so many varying shades of gold. She had no idea how beautiful it was. How beautiful she was. He loved her for it. She was skirting the dying oak tree, about to step over the wet crag full of slick, slippery, water-worn rocks. It was time. He ensured that his gray canvas messenger bag was properly camouflaged by a pile of leaves and stepped out from behind the rock. A thin branch that had fallen from a nearby birch cracked under his heavy boot. She froze. He could feel the fear radiating off her. She whirled around, her eyes wide, but didnt see him. Hugging herself, she took a few quick steps, her heavy backpack banging against her spine. He stepped on another branch, purposely this time, snapping it clean in two. She stopped again. Now he could taste her fear, and he swallowed it whole, savoring the tangy saltiness of it. She started to run. The moment she looked behind herthey always looked behind themhe stepped out into the path in front of her. When she slammed into him, he didnt flinch. She weighed practically nothing. She screamed, and his chest filled with unadulterated joy.
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SHADOWLANDS

He put his hands on her arms, steadying her. She pulled back, her eyes wide, her skin taut, her complexion pale. Then she saw him. Really saw him. And her body sagged in relief. Mr. Nell! Oh my god! Her hand was on her heart. Everything was fine. She knew him. She felt safe now. Silly girl. You scared me! Whatre you doing out here? He let her go for that one, brief moment. Gave her that moment of confident security. Then he licked his lips. That was all it took. The fear returned, hotter and faster this time. She took a step back, but they were right at the edge of the crag. She wobbled, just as he knew she would. Reaching out, he closed his fingers around her wrist and used her own momentum to fling her around, ripping the backpack to the ground with his free hand. She tried to scream again, but he clamped one arm around her neck and the other over her mouth. He dragged her backward off the trail, her hair, her delicious hair, brushing his lips. She struggled, of course. They always struggled. The only variable was how long she would last. How long she would fight before she realized the inevitability of what was going to happen. Before she accepted it. Some fought until the very end, clawing, kicking, biting, slamming their tiny fists against him until he strangled all the strength right out of them. Others simply begged. It didnt matter what they did. The ending was always the same.
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Rory Miller would probably plead with him. He had watched her for months and knew she was not a spirited girl. Aside from her passion for science and her ability to come in third in almost every cross-country race shed ever run, she didnt have much fire in her. In fact, there was almost nothing special about her at all. Except for the hair. Her beautiful, golden hair. He opened his mouth and took some of it under his tongue. She tried to scream again, but his grip was too tight to let the sound escape. The boulder was mere inches away. He pictured slamming her temple onto the razor-sharp edge, cutting a ragged wound into her scalp. But then this would be over far too quickly. As he reached the edge of the boulder, his heel came down on a wet leaf, and he slipped. For a fraction of a second, he fought for balance, and his grip on her loosened ever so slightly. It was the minutest of mistakes, but it was enough. She let out a screech and slammed her sharp elbow into his solar plexus. He doubled over, trying to breathe, but the air wouldnt come. His vision clouded over. His hand pressed against the cold surface of the rock, and he blinked until his eyes began to clear. That was when he saw the jagged, broken end of a branch thrusting upward toward his face.
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SHADOWLANDS

He heard the crack. Tasted the blood seconds before he felt the excruciating pain. His glasses flew off his nose. His knees hit the freezing mud, which quickly turned red from the river of blood streaming from his nose. You whore! he screamed, blood burbling in his mouth. But she was gone. No. No. No. This could not happen. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, covered his nose, and staggered forward. Twigs and brambles whipped his arms, underbrush tugged at his feet, the cold wind stung his face, but still he ran. He had tasted her already. He had to have her. Everything was a blur without his glasses. Then, a glimpse. A flash. The white canvas lining of her hood. He ran faster. He could feel her again. Feel her terror. All he had to do was close the space between them and she would be his. His fingers stretched. They ached. Just one more inch and he would have her. Just one. More. Inch. A blinding light flashed. A screeching of tires. He heard her scream before he realized what was happening. Shed reached the edge of the woods. Shed reached the road. And now she was either dead or saved. Instinctively, he hit the dirt. His nose throbbed. His sweat congealed on his skin, freezing him from the outside in. There were voices. Shouts of alarm. Ever so slowly, he slunk backward. Slunk into the bushes, the woods he knew
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so well. He could hide here. He could disappear. He would be all right. But it wasnt enough. Because he had tasted her. He had tasted her. He had tasted her. How could he ever survive knowing how close hed come? This need would never be sated. Not now. He knew he would never rest until he had her. Not dead, he prayed as he slipped deeper into the oncoming darkness. Please dont let her be dead. If she was not dead, there was still a chance. If she was not dead, he would find a way. He always, always found a way.

THE ESCAPE
The uneven end of a thin tree limb ripped the skin from my cheek. My lungs burned with every ragged, panicked breath. My eyes were so blurred I couldnt see where I was going. My foot caught on a tree root, and I flew forward. I screamed as I imagined him right behind me, closing in on me, grabbing me off the ground, and dragging me to my death. I pushed myself to my knees and gasped for air. His breath was hot on my neck. His fingers grazed my shoulder. I let out another scream, my throat constricting, but when I whirled around, no one was there. I forced myself up and kept running.
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K AT E B R I A N

I shoved aside a clawlike branch and leaped over a fallen maple trunk, almost tripping again as I hit the ground on the other side. This was not happening. It couldnt really be happening. Mr. Nell was my teacher. He was a good guy. Funny. Everyone thought he was so cool in that retro, dorky teacher way. This had to be a nightmare, and any second I was going to wake up and laugh over the fact that I ever thought it was real. I heard a twig snap behind me. A footfall. He was closing in. Hed looked into my eyes and licked his lips. Hed tasted my hair and moaned. My throat filled with bile. I was not going to die this way. I was not going to let him have the satisfaction. I was supposed to go to college, become a doctor, get married and have kids, win awards, buy a beach house, and die surrounded by my loving family knowing Id saved countless lives over the course of my storied career. Or, like my sister, Darcy, was always saying, I was supposed to die alone and surrounded by cats. Either way. But not like this. With one desperate explosion of adrenaline I surged ahead, and suddenly, there were no trees. There were no leaves, no brambles, no underbrush. There was only asphalt tearing the fabric of my jeans at the knee and an SUV bearing down on me. The last thing I saw before I flung my hands up was the
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SHADOWLANDS

gleaming silver grille headed right for my face. There was an awful, deafening screech, and the world filled with the scent of burned rubber. I held my breath and braced for impact. Rory? I blinked. Christophers face loomed over me. His beautiful, perfect, startled face. His dark hair was slicked back from his forehead, wet from the school showers. Oh my god, are you all right? I looked back at the woods as he grabbed both my arms and dragged me off the road. When I tried to stand, my knees gave out and I leaned into him, gripping the sleeves of his black-and-white varsity jacket with my dirt-streaked fingers. There was blood on the back of one hand, and mud soaked the cuff of my sleeve. Every single inch of me was shaking. Get in the car! I yelled. What? His brows knit in confusion over his warm brown eyes. Rory, whatre you Get in the car, Chris! I shouted again. We have to get out of here! Keeping my eyes on the woods, I staggered toward the passenger-side door. The trees dipped and swirled in my vision, and the ground beneath me began to tilt. I pressed my hands against the hood to keep from going down, breathing
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through the dizziness. I couldnt give up now. Not when I was so close to safety. Ive got you, Christopher said in my ear. He helped me into the car and slammed the door. I jammed my trembling fingers down on the lock button over and over again until it finally clicked. Something moved in the corner of my vision and I seized up, but then I saw the flick of a bushy tail and realized it was just a squirrel scampering up a tree trunk. Rory, whats going on? Christopher asked, getting behind the wheel. Why are you covered in mud? Just drive, Chris. Please, I begged. My body started quaking so violently it hurt. I tried to hold my breath, tried to control the shaking, but it wouldnt stop. Even when I shoved my hands under my arms, clamped my knees together, and clenched my jaw. It just wouldnt stop. But my house is right Please just take me home, I begged. And call nineone-one. Why? Christopher asked. He looked me up and down, his face pale. Rory, he said, his voice tense. What happened? Mr. Nell, I stammered through my teeth. Mr. Nell attacked me. Mr. Nell the math teacher? he blurted, taking the turn
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SHADOWLANDS

at the end of his street too wide and nearly hitting a car waiting at the stop sign. My stomach swooped as the other driver leaned on his horn. My hands flung out and braced against the door and the side of Chriss seat. Chris pulled the car over onto the shoulder. He cupped one hand over his mouth, a worry line forming just above his nose. When he looked at me, my heart stopped beating. His eyes went from stunned, to resigned, to murderous in the space of five seconds. It was only then that I understood how he really felt about me. Right there, in that awful moment, with cars whizzing by fast enough to make the car shudder. Why had I ever turned him down? If I had just said yes, if I had just blown off Darcys feelings like shed done to me so many times in my life, Chris and I would have been a couple. We would have left school together today, and he would have driven me over to his house to tutor his sister. If I had just said yes, I never would have been taking that shortcut through the woods, and none of this wouldve happened. He didnt Red splotches appeared along Chriss neck and moved up his face. Rory, he didnt My stomach hollowed out as I realized what he was asking. I shook my head. No. A sob escaped my throat, and I covered my face with both hands. No.
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K AT E B R I A N

Chris sank back in his seat. Thank god. He reached for the Bluetooth button on his dashboard. Suddenly, a mans voice filled the car. Nine-one-one. Whats your emergency? My girlmy friend was attacked, Christopher said, his voice cracking. Is your friend with you? the man asked. Yes, Christopher replied. Shes here. Shes . . . okay. He reached out and took my hand, clasping it so hard it hurt. Whats your location? Were in my car on Seventeen, right near Fishers Crossing, he said. But the guys still out there. Mr. Nell. I dont know his first name. He works at my school. At Princeton Hills High. Hes still in the woods. And your names? the man asked. Christopher Kane and Rory Miller. All right, sir. Dont move. Were sending someone right to you. Okay, Christopher said, swallowing hard. Okay. Rain began to fall in huge drops, splattering across the windshield. He hit the button to end the call. For a long moment, neither one of us said a word, or moved, or breathed. Then he got out of the car, walked around to my side, and squeezed in next to me. I crawled into his lap, and he shut
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the door and just held me. Burying my face in his chest, I breathed in the deep woolen scent of his jacket, closed my eyes, and tried to stop seeing Mr. Nells face. I tried to think of something else. Anything else. My mother smiling at me a few months before she died. My father taking me on my first run. My sister twirling around in a red tutu and heart-shaped sunglasses, putting on a show for the family at Thanksgiving. But the image of Mr. Nell obliterated the memories one by one. That ugly, puke-colored corduroy jacket. The chip at the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. The watery eyes. The yellow teeth. The thin, dry lips. The slick tongue. It just. Wouldnt. Stop. I let out a pathetic-sounding groan, and Christopher held me tighter. Its okay, he whispered. Everythings going to be okay. But I knew in my heart he was wrong. Nothing was ever going to be okay again.

13

NUMBER FIFTEEN
The flashing red-and-blue police lights left pulsating blurs across my vision. Christopher kept his gaze straight ahead, his breaths remarkably even as he followed the patrol car down my winding street, his windshield wipers whacking back and forth, too fast for the increasingly light drizzle. He pulled up to a curb near my house, where two dozen police cars were parked and a black van was stationed half on my front lawn, half on the street. Whoa, he said quietly. Slowly, numbly, I climbed out of the car. All I wanted to do was get in the shower, curl up in a ball on the tiled floor,
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and stay there until I felt clean again. But I had a feeling these officers had other ideas. Rory? My father strode away from a crowd of uniformed police officers and severe-looking men in trench coats and stormed toward the car. His white button-down shirt was half untucked from his pants, and his threadbare tweed suit jacket flapped open. His eyes looked bloodshot, his nose red, and glistening raindrops dotted his dark hair. When he reached me, he threw his arms around me, his fingers digging into my shoulder blades. As we stood there, dozens of strangers and neighbors eyeing us, I felt awkward and stiff. I couldnt remember the last time hed hugged me. My dad still picked me up from school when I was sick and made our favorite meals whenever he had the time. But ever since my mom died, hed stopped checking in to see how we were doing or kissing us good night. Hed retreated into himself, developing this angry, simmering outer layer that was constantly set to blow. A siren blared as another police car pulled up. The hug ended abruptly. Darcy hovered nearby, her slim arms crossed over her Princeton Hills High School Cheerleading sweatshirt, the black hood up over her dark brown hair to shield her from the drizzle. Christopher started to get out of the car, but the second their eyes met, he got back in and stayed there. My dad cleared his throat.
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Are you okay? he asked. When the police showed up at my lecture hall, I thought . . . His voice trailed off, and he reached out to awkwardly clutch my wrist, as though making sure I was really still there. If anything ever happened to you . . . Im fine, I assured my dad. Im just What were you thinking? he asked suddenly, pulling away. I flinched, my heart vaulting into my throat, and I took an instinctive step back. Cutting through those woods alone? You could have been killed! Now this was the dad I knew. Quick to temper, quicker to blame. It was oddly reassuringa normal thing in a surreal day. Dad, lay off! Darcy snapped. His face turned red and he looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Get inside, he said quietly but sternly. I ducked my chin, tears stinging my eyes, and walked shakily toward our house. Darcy fell into step with me, so close our shoulders kept grazing while we walked. One glance back at Christopher was all I could manage. He lifted his hand from the steering wheel in a semblance of a wave, his lips flattened into a tight, encouraging smile. Suddenly, I just wanted to be back in that car, back with him, back where I felt safe. But then he revved the engine, and just like that, he was gone.
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SHADOWLANDS

Once we were inside, my father slammed the front door behind us. Then he stopped short. Standing near the wall in the living room, next to framed photos of me and Darcy when we were younger, was a slight woman in a dripping black baseball cap and a black overcoat. Several men in blue jumpsuits were sweeping through the downstairs, running mechanical wands along the walls and counters, while another climbed the steps to the second floor. Who are you? my father demanded. My name is Sharon Messenger. She took out a wallet and flashed a badge at us. Three bold, capital letters leaped out at me: FBI. My heart started to pound painfully. Why is the FBI here? my father asked, his forehead wrinkling. The agent ignored him and turned to me. Is this the man who attacked you? she asked, taking out a smartphone and tapping one of the on-screen keys. Instantly, Mr. Nells face appeared on the screen, but he was much younger, with a mustache and square black glasses instead of his gold wirerimmed frames. Yes, I said, turning away. Thats him. Thats Mr. Nell. Agent Messenger pressed her pale lips together. She slid out of her rain-soaked coat, hung it on the rack, then
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gestured toward the sitting area. Why dont you all have a seat? Why dont you tell us whats going on first? my dad challenged, squaring his shoulders. In his day, my dad was an athlete, a lean cross-country runner like me. But after my mother died, hed stopped working out, stopped running, and now he just looked tired and weak. Dad, Darcy groused, can we please not make a fight out of this? My dads eyes flashed, but he sat down on the old recliner. I sank down on the far end of the couch, pulling my knees up under my chin and hugging myself tightly. Darcy took the opposite end, while Agent Messenger paced over the worn Oriental carpet my parents had bought on their honeymoon. The man you know as Steven Nell is actually Roger Krauss, she said without preamble. The FBI has been trying to find him for over a decade. She stopped pacing and looked me directly in the eye. Her drenched black curls stuck to her neck, looking like tattoos against her milky skin. Hes killed fourteen girls in ten states. First he stalks them. Then he hunts them down and . . . Youre lucky you got away. My blood turned to ice. Fourteen girls. Hed murdered fourteen girls. And I was supposed to be next. I was number fifteen.
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SHADOWLANDS

No way, Darcy blurted, shoving her hood away from her face. Mr. Nell is an actual serial killer? It looks that way, yes, Messenger replied. Suddenly, the shaking started again. For the first time, I noticed the dried leaves clinging to the undersides of my sleeves. I ripped them frantically to the floor, my fingernails tearing at the wool. Messenger took off her baseball cap, wiping drops of water off her forehead. She had purple bags under her eyes, her cheeks were gaunt, and a few strands of gray spotted her dark hair even though she didnt look much older than thirty-five. I wondered how much of Messengers past decade had been dedicated to finding Mr. Nelland failing. Krauss is smart. Brilliant, actually, Messenger said in an even tone, like she was talking about the weather or a movie she saw last week, not a brutal killer. He always covers his tracks and hes a master at disappearing. Every time we get close, he slips away. Messengers phone beeped at her hip. She quickly checked the screen before tucking it back away. We had intel that he might be here in New Jersey, and now we have our proof. Every officer and agent in town is searching for him right now. Good, Darcy said, looking at me. I hope they shoot him in the face. Darcy, my father warned.
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K AT E B R I A N

Cant say I disagree with her, sir, Messenger said, raising her palms. Agent Messenger? a voice called. The man whod gone upstairs bounded into view, a plastic bag in his hand. Nestled inside was a small black square attached to a wire. A spy camera. We found it in the girls bedroom, hidden in the slats of the closet door. Oh my god. Darcys jaw dropped in horror as she turned to look at me. I couldnt breathe. Hed been in our home. Hed been watching me. The shaking turned violent. Take it to the lab, Messenger said with a brisk nod. Figure out the transmitting radius. It might feed to a location nearby. My stomach clenched. How long has it been there? I whispered. Messengers dark eyes softened. Its impossible to say, she said gently. I thought of my room, with its butter-yellow walls, my microscope, and my biology books. It was where I did my homework and ran my labs, where I called my friends, where my mom used to tell me stories about a frog named Neville to help me fall asleep. It was where I woke up each morning and got dressed and . . . I ran for the hall bathroom, slamming my knees against
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SHADOWLANDS

the tile floor in front of the toilet. I heaved and heaved until my stomach was empty. Then I sat back against the wall and closed my eyes, blindly reaching for the flusher. Instantly, Mr. Nells face swooped toward me, and I pressed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, trying to obliterate the image. If only I could erase the knowledge that Mr. Nellthe man who always wrote
GOOD WORK

in all capitals on my

tests and underlined it three times, the guy whod talked me into entering the statewide math competition last fall, the person Id trusted and considered a mentorhad watched me in my bedroom and spied on the most private moments of my life. I had never felt so violated. I needed to escape. I needed a shower. I needed to get clean. I needed to be alone. Im going upstairs! I shouted on my way out of the bathroom. Wait. My dad stood at the end of the hall, a concerned look on his face. He hesitated for an awkward moment before asking, Are you okay? Tears instantly sprang to my eyes. My dad crossed the living room in two steps, took the agents coat off the rack, and handed it to her. I almost couldnt believe what I was seeing. My father and I had just communicated. Wed actually understood each other.
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Well, thanks for coming by, but if you and the other officers dont mind, I think my daughter needs some peace and quiet, my father said, trying to usher her toward the door. She didnt budge. Im sorry, sir, but thats not going to happen, Messenger said, folding her damp coat over her arm. Its not safe for you to be here alone. Theres a good chance Krauss isnt done with your daughter. My heart and stomach switched places. I clutched my hands together to keep them from trembling. Not done with me? What the hell did that mean? Were going to place a protective detail on your house, Messenger said, turning to look me in the eye, as if she knew how badly I needed reassuring. I dont want any of you leaving this house until he is caught and locked behind bars. That means no school, no work, no nothing. What about my classes? my dad asked. His job meant everything to him, at least since mom had died. Summer term just started. Im sure the university can find a substitute, Messenger said tightly. I guess that means I dont have to take my bio final, my sister said with a smile. My dad glared at her. Well have your school drop off all your homework.
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SHADOWLANDS

Darcy visibly sagged, but I barely registered any of it. Suddenly, I was back in those woods, running for my life, feeling Nell breathing down my neck while Messengers words echoed in my head, over and over. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Youll catch him, though, right? I said urgently, finally finding my voice. I mean, with all those cops and everything looking for him . . . theres no way hes going to get away. I wish it had happened some other way, Rory, but this was exactly the break we needed. Messenger placed a reassuring hand on my arm, her dark eyes locking on mine. With any luck, well have him by the end of the night.

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SOON
What do you mean, you still havent found him? my dad demanded. Im sorry. We suspect hes still in town, but hes gone underground, Messenger said wearily. Her black pants sagged around her narrow hips. I promise were doing our best. Its just a little bit of a waiting game. Waiting. That was all we ever did anymore. Seven full days had passed and here we were again, gathered in the living room, listening to Messenger tell us exactly nothing. I leaned my head on the back of the couch and looked up at the ceiling, staring at the crack Id been studying all week
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SHADOWLANDS

long. It had actually gotten longer since last Friday, snaking its way from the corner near the front door all the way to the center of the room. Next to me, Darcys silver-polished nails stopped clacking on her laptops keyboard. So, wait, she said, slapping the computer closed and standing up. Youre telling me we still cant leave? Yes, thats what Im telling you, Messenger replied, rubbing her forehead. No. No way, Darcy snapped. Tonight is Becky Mazrows graduation party. Ive only been looking forward to it all year. Theres no way Im going to sit here watching the Kardashians on my computer while everyone in my class is there. Darcy, my father said impatiently. What? She raised her shoulders. They can send me with a security detail or something, she said, looking at Agent Messenger. Their inepticy is the reason were holed up here like some family of fugitives. Inepticy isnt a word, I said quietly. Darcy ignored me. Yeah, I dont think thats top on Uncle Sams priority list, Messenger replied. I dont believe this! You said you were going to catch him tonight, Darcy cried, throwing in some air quotes. That was a week ago!
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Im sorry, but Sorry for what? Sucking at your job? Darcy shot back. Darcy! my dad thundered. She fell silent and plopped back onto the couch, her chin jutted out in defiance. But the thing was, she was right. It wasnt fair that we were stuck here. It made no sense that the entire FBI couldnt catch one guy. I just never would have had the guts to say it. So . . . what? I asked, crossing my arms over my E=mc2 sweatshirt. Youre just waiting for him to show himself? To make a mistake? I thought you said he was brilliant. Whatre the chances he actually screws up and lets himself get caught? Messenger didnt have to answer. The resigned look on her face said everything. I pulled my knees up under my chin and hugged myself as tightly as I could. What if the mistake he made was breaking into my room and stabbing me to death before anyone could do anything? Had anyone considered that? Unbelievable, my dad said, throwing up his hands. He paced over to the front window and looked out at the two police cruisers idling near the end of our driveway, a constant ever since the day I was attacked. A red light at the base of the window blinked at a regular interval, part of a complicated alarm system the FBI had rigged for the house. I dont think I can take much more of this. My sub better
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SHADOWLANDS

give that quiz tonight, he muttered. If she doesnt give them the quiz, my whole grading system will be entirely thrown off. Darcys phone buzzed, and she groaned. Its Becky again. Shes going to kill me if I miss this party. Enough! I blurted, standing up. Suddenly, I felt like I couldnt sit next to her for one more second. Theres a killer on the loose and hes after us! I cant believe youre worried about a party! I wanted to yell at my dad for caring so much about a stupid quiz, too, but of course I didnt. All my angry thoughts toward my father always stayed just thatthoughts. Darcy rolled her eyes. I know youve never been to one, Rory, she said sarcastically. But theyre actually kind of fun. Then she looked me up and down and slowly pocketed her phone. Unless you like being under house arrest. I like being safe, I retorted. Why am I not surprised? she shot back, rising to her feet to face off with me. Youre here practically all the time anyway, holed up in your room with your little stethoscope and all your beakers Its a microscope, I spat. Whatever. All I know is, its no wonder youve never had a boyfriend. Darcy! my dad snapped. Thats enough.
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K AT E B R I A N

Darcy shot me an acidic glare. My mouth filled with a bitter taste. As desperate as I was to keep the secret about me and Christopher, there were times, like now, when all I wanted to do was throw it in her face. Prove that she wasnt the only one with a life, the only one people found attractive, the only one who could take a chance. As if on cue, my phone pinged with a text. I smiled slightly when I saw it was from Christopher.
Any updates?

Chris had texted a few times to check in on how I was doing. A couple of kids from the cross-country team had also reached out. They all had the same set of questions, questions they would never have asked if they actually stopped to think. Like Were you scared? or Did you think you were going to die? And my personal favorite, Did your whole life flash before your eyes? No. No, it did not. What had flashed before my eyes were the things that were actually there. The leaves budding in the trees, the cloudy sky, the dirt under my fingernails. All I could think was, These are the last things Im ever going to see. I was going to die in the woods. The very same woods where Darcy and I used to play Peter Pan and Pirates of the Caribbean. The same woods where I broke my arm when
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SHADOWLANDS

I climbed a tree to spy on Darcy and her first boyfriend. The woods where I used to steal away and read my moms ancient encyclopedias when Darcys teasing got so merciless I couldnt take it anymore. I hit reply.
Nope. Still trapped.

Then I tucked my phone back in my front sweatshirt pocket. Darcy glanced at me sharply. Who was that? No one, I said quickly, hoping my cheeks didnt look as hot as they felt. Messenger rubbed her eyes. You havent told anyone about the security measures here, right? No, of course not, I said quickly, a defensive tone in my voice. I always did what I was told. For a horrible moment, I wondered if that was why Mr. Nell had picked me. Because I was so predictable, so organized, so easy to follow. Messenger rocked back on her heels, holding her hands up in surrender. Okay, okay. I just dont want you to get hurt again, Rory. My heart folded in on itself and clenched until it hurt. It was a new sensation, something that started after the attack, whenever I thought about Steven Nell. Look, guys, I understand that this is hard. I really do.
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I just need you to hang in here a little longer. Can you do that for me? Messengers tone was earnest. But she didnt get it. None of them did. They didnt understand what it was like to run through the woods with a killer on your heels. The only person I wanted to be with, the only person Id felt safe with since the attack, was Christopher. My heart gave another painful squeeze, and suddenly I felt claustrophobic, like I couldnt breathe. Screw it. I was going to call him. Darcy would never know. If she asked, Id just tell her I was catching up with my lab partner. Then shed definitely leave me alone. Im going to my room, I said, already clutching my phone inside my pocket. I turned and took the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding with anticipation at the very idea of hearing Christophers voice. The upstairs of our house opened onto a wide landing with a skylight overhead. All five doors, which led to three bedrooms, a study, and a bathroom, were shut tight. I opened the first one on the right, the one to my room, and closed it behind me, leaning against the familiar wood. I tugged the phone out, but my hands were shaking so hard I dropped it on the floor. I left it there for a second and took a deep breath. I didnt want to call him sounding all out of breath and hysterical. I needed to give myself a second to calm down.
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I closed my eyes, and instantly thoughts of our first and onlykiss flooded me. It was back when I was still tutoring him, before I started working with his little sister. We had been sitting at the desk in his room. I was on his cushy desk chair, because hed insisted, and he was on a hard kitchen chair hed dragged up the stairs. It was two inches shorter than mine, which put our faces about even. Id been crushing on him for weeks, but hed been Darcys boyfriend forever, and Id done a pretty good job of controlling myself by reciting the periodic table or listing the presidents whenever I wanted to stare at him. For whatever reason, though, that night I couldnt keep my gaze from traveling back to his face every five seconds. Hed gotten his hair cut, and for the first time I noticed the flecks of green in his brown eyes. It was hard to believe anyone that handsome actually existed in my school, and I suddenly felt so jealous of Darcy for getting to kiss him. She got to feel what it was like to be in his arms. She got to have him look at her like she was the only girl on Earth. Then Christopher suddenly had a calculus breakthrough and he jumped up, cheered like hed just hit a home run, and spun my chair around. I laughed and closed my eyes to keep from getting dizzy, which only made me dizzier. When he stopped me, I opened my eyes again and all I saw was his face as he brought his lips down on mine.
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The second he touched me, it was as if something inside of me was released. Something I hadnt even known was there. But still, I pushed him away. What are you doing? I demanded. I broke up with Darcy, he blurted, breathless. I felt like Id just been tipped upside down. What? When? This morning. You didnt hear? I rolled my eyes. It was so natural for him to think that everything about his life reached every ear in school in a nanosecond. No. She didnt . . . I havent even seen her, I said. Well, I broke up with her because I couldnt take it anymore, Christopher said, squatting down in front of my chair like he was taking his catchers stance. For the last few weeks, whenever youre here . . . He paused and reached for my fingers. Rory, whenever youre here, all I can think about is this. Then he leaned forward and kissed me again. I put my arms around his neck and he hugged me to him, tugging me up so we were both standing. I couldnt believe any of this was happening. Christopher liked me back. Hed broken up with Darcy for me. Id wanted this for so long, and, unbelievably, it turned out that hed wanted it, too. Christopher kissed me hard, like he was hungry for it,
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and I matched his every move. He tasted like Oreos and smelled like a fresh shower. When we tumbled onto his bed, I was so excited and baffled and flattered and happy. And then I saw Darcys face and I pulled away. We cant do this, I said, panting for breath. Because of Darcy? he said, reaching for my wrist. He clamped his fingers around it, and I realized how big his hand was and how small my wrist seemed. He shook his head. Shell be okay. Well just I turned around and sat with my back to him, my legs hanging down the side of the bed. Shes my sister, and shes in love with you, I said. I cant But, Rory. He sat up behind me. Im not in love with her. Chris Rory, he said playfully. He slid over so I could see his face. I have been trying not to kiss you for, like, two months. Every time you come over here, I get excited like its a date or something. Its pathetic, but I actually look forward to calculus tutoring. I cant take it anymore. And yeah, it sucks that youre the sister of the girl Ive been with for the last two years, but thats just the way it is. He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. I want to be with you, not her. They were the sweetest words anyone had ever said to
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me. Someone had picked me. Mousy, too-smart, awkward me over popular, gorgeous, witty Darcy. But Darcy was all about Christopher. She jumped whenever he texted. She wore his varsity jacket around the house even when the heat was jacked up. So I told him no, and I got up and I left. But he still came over the next day when Darcy was at cheerleading practice and asked me to the holiday dance. And though I wanted nothing more than to go with him, I still said no. Because Darcy had spent the whole night crying in her room. And I couldnt do that to her. The rhythmic ticking of the chemistry-themed clock my mom had bought me for my tenth birthday brought me back to the present. My breathing slowed and I felt a little calmer. Maybe I couldnt have gone out with Christopher then, but I could at least tell him how I felt now, especially considering how mean Darcy was being. If nothing else, the experience with Steven Nell was an awful reminder that life was short. I opened my eyes, and my room came slowly into focus. Outside the window, rain had started to fall. A screen saver picture of me and my mom at the finish line of my first track meet flashed across my laptop. My blue yoga mat was unfurled on the floor from when Id done my abs exercises, my fallen phone sitting in the center of it. A running shoe poked out from underneath my white bed skirt. Then I
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blinked. I could have sworn Id left my bed unmade that morningId been having nightmares ever since the attack, and it felt pointless to smooth out the sheets when Id just wildly tangle them up each night. But now it was made with perfect hospital corners, the pillows neatly fluffed. And there, on my patchwork bedspread, was a single red rose. For one moment, I wondered if Christopher had left it for me. A small note card was tucked beneath the roses thorny stem. A ragged breath caught in my throat. On the card, printed in all-too-familiar capital letters and underlined three times, were five ominous words:
WE WILL BE TOGETHER. SOON.

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RUN
I screamed. Loudly. My knees gave out and my butt hit the floor. I scrabbled back against the closet door and curled into a ball, sobs racking my chest. Rory! My father burst into the room with Messenger and Darcy on his heels. Rory, what happened? Shaking, I pointed at the bed. Instantly, Messenger was on her walkie-talkie, barking orders. Oh my god, Darcy breathed. Get her out of here, my father told her. Gently, Darcy tugged me off the floor and into the hallway, where we both sat on the floor. Outside, sirens wailed.
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He was here, Darcy, I whimpered. He was in my room. He got past the officers . . . the alarm . . . Its okay. Youre okay, Darcy said, putting her arm around me. Its not okay, I said. Hes going to kill me, Darcy. Hes going to kill me. I squeezed my eyes shut and cried. Outside, the roar of a helicopter engine filled the night, and searchlights illuminated the hall. How could this happen? my father demanded from inside my room. How did he get in here? The how isnt important right now. Its the fact that he did, Messenger stated, walking out into the hallway. The rose and the note dangled from her fingers in separate evidence bags. Wed thought our measures would be enough, but clearly hes even more capable than wed realized. She placed her hand on her gun holster, as though checking to make sure it was still there. All of a sudden, she was like a whole new personenergized, ready to jump into action. Her phone beeped and she checked the message, then tucked it away. She looked at each of us. Youll need to leave for a safe house, she told us. Tonight. Leave? Now? my dad exclaimed. Darcy got up, dragging me off the floor.
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No way, she said. I cant just leave. Im graduating next week! A safe house? I said. Why? Theres something I didnt tell you before, Messenger explained, looking me in the eye in a way not many adults ever seemed to dolike I was her equal. Hes never failed to finish a job before. Only one other victim escaped from him, and two weeks later he broke into her house and killed her entire family. She took me by my shoulders. Rory, I am not trying to scare you, but he will keep coming. He will never stop. My heart executed a series of folding maneuvers that made me feel faint. And as for you, Im sure theyll still give you a diploma, but are you really going to care if youre dead? the woman asked Darcy. Wow. You really dont sugarcoat anything, do you? Darcy asked. Messenger stared her down. Not my style. Now I suggest you all start packing. Youre leaving here in fifteen minutes. No photos, no personal items or IDs. Nothing that connects you in any way to this life. Turning her back on us and heading for the window over the staircase, she glanced out. Dozens of cops in rain gear scoured the wet lawn, the helicopters searchlight flashing
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its wide beam over everything from our old swing set to the dilapidated fence around what used to be my moms vegetable garden. We really have to do this? We really have to go? my dad said through his teeth, bracing one hand over his head on the wall near his bedroom door. His face was ashen. I saw his eyes travel to a framed picture on the opposite wall. The one professional shot of my family, taken when I was in third grade, Darcy was in fifth grade, and my mom was young, beautiful, and untouched by cancer. She smiled back at him, her blond hair gleaming, her makeup perfectly applied, her favorite pink turtleneck crisp and unfaded. It had been threadbare by the end, with sweat stains around the top of the collar and little holes frayed at the hem, but she had refused to take it off. It was her favorite thing and she didnt want to let it go. My heart slowly tore down the middle. I wished with every fiber of my being, with every bone in my body, with every ounce of my blood, that she was here right now. And I knew he was thinking the same thing, too. My mother would have known what to say, what to do. My mother would have taken charge. Look, Mr. Miller, Messenger said, her tone soothing. Hopefully it wont be forever. But its the only way to keep your family safe.
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My heartbeat pounded in my ears. My skin prickled. My feet itched to move, to run, to flee. My father looked over his shoulder at us, and our eyes met. We have to get out of here, I wanted to scream. Please listen to her. Please. Girls, he said, his voice gravelly. Go pack.

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LEAVING HOME
In my room, I grabbed my big duffel bag, the one I usually packed for science camp, and started opening drawers, pulling clothes out at random, and shoving them inside. I couldnt believe this was happening. I couldnt believe that Mr. Nell had found a way past the FBI into my house. That I was being forced to leave the only home Id ever known. The house where my mother had lived. The house where shed died. Angry, terrified tears filled my eyes as I whirled around. Tacked to the mirror around my desk were dozens of blue, red, and yellow ribbons, awards for science and academic
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competitions. In the corner on my desk was my microscope, surrounded by schoolbooks, notepads, slides, and sample dishes. None of that stuff was coming with me, obviously, but I grabbed The Merck Manual off my shelf and shoved my iPad into my bag. It slid right out and bounced across the floor. No! I screeched, releasing all my emotion on behalf of my prized possession. I knelt to pick it up, my eyes overflowing with tears as I checked it for dings and scratches. I turned it on, and it blinked happily to life. Irrationally, I laughed and hugged it to my chest. Rory? my father called. What the hell was that? Nothing! Im fine! I shouted back, my voice breaking. Why? Why did I have to cut through the woods that day? Why had Mr. Nell picked me? Suddenly, my tears wouldnt stop. Just breathe, Rory. Calm down and breathe. I sat back on my heels and silently recited the periodic table. Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine . . . Recitation was a great calming mechanism. My mother had taught me that back when she was sick, and it had helped me get through all the hospital visits, the long nights after she came back home and there was nothing to
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do but wait for her death. It got me through the funeral, the wake, and a thousand terrified nights since, wishing she was here with me. Rory! Where are my black jeans? Darcy demanded, appearing in the doorway. What? How would I know where your black jeans are? I quickly shoved my iPad into its case and turned my back to her, wiping my eyes with both hands. I glanced at the photo of me and my mom from my ninth birthday and snatched it off my dresser. I didnt care what Messenger said. The picture was coming with me. Because I put them in my closet this morning and now theyre not there. I shot Darcy an incredulous look. She was always doing thisaccusing me of taking things I would never take from her. Like your jeans would even fit me, I shot back, shakily gathering up my charger and a few pairs of socks from my top drawer. In case you havent noticed, you have no thighs. Well, then where the hell are they? she shouted. I have no idea! Is this really what youre worried about right now? I cried. Theyre my favorite jeans! she yelled back. Girls!
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Agent Messenger had appeared at the top of the stairs. What? we both shouted at her. Then my heart dropped. Yelling at an FBI agent was probably a bad thing. You have two minutes, she told us. Get it together. Then she turned and walked into my fathers room, where he was busy slamming drawers and ripping clothes off hangers. I dont believe this, Darcy sputtered, yanking on the drawstrings of her sweatshirt. Ive only been looking forward to Beckys party all effing year! Everyones going. Everyone! But guess whos not gonna be there in her favorite black jeans! Me! I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. She was just venting. Just dealing. If I could scream at my iPad falling to the floor, she could ramble psychotically about some stupid party. That was all that mattered to her, after all. Her friends. Her parties. Her fun. She stormed into the hallway and started down the stairs. Suddenly, there was a loud tumbling noise followed by a crash. Heart in my throat, I ran out of my room. Sonofa Darcy was sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, her head back against the corner of the small dresser where we threw the mail and everything else we didnt know what to do with.
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She sat forward and shakily reached for the back of her head. Are you okay? I demanded. Im fine. She drew her hand out. Her fingertips were coated in blood. Ill get Dad, I said. No! I said Im fine, Darcy shouted, shoving herself to her feet. Im going to check the laundry room. She took one staggering step, then righted herself and disappeared around the corner. I glanced over my shoulder, surprised my dad and Messenger hadnt heard her fall. But then I realized they were making enough noise to drown out just about anything, him slamming around his room and her speaking loudly over the din. Slowly, I tiptoed over and hovered near the open door, just out of sight. How long are we going to have to be away? I heard my dad ask, banging a drawer closed. As long as it takes to find this guy and lock him up, Messenger said. For now, lets talk logistics. All right, fine, my father said tersely. I heard a zip, then another slam. So talk. As soon as you and the girls are ready, well lock up and go, she said. The car were providing for you is parked in the driveway. In it is a GPS programmed with your final
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destination, along with a packet of information on your new identities, credit cards, IDs, that sort of thing. New identities? my father asked incredulously. Is that really necessary? It will be if you need to stay in hiding for more than a couple of days, she replied. Your first names will stay the same, but youll be the Thayer family, from Manhattan. My father let out a rueful laugh. Whats so funny? the agent asked. I always wanted to live in the city, but my wife couldnt stand the noise. I never knew that about my dad. Hed always seemed like Mr. Suburbanite. Do you always put new lives together so fast? he asked. When dealing with a man like Krauss, we try to have our bases covered. We created this contingency plan as soon as we learned of Rorys attack. Oh, my dad said, a hard, angry note in his voice. Was there a reason you didnt mention this to me earlier? Im telling you now, Messenger said calmly. There was no need to worry your girls more than they already were. There was a long pause, followed by another zip. All set, Mr. Miller? Messenger asked. Dont you mean Mr. Thayer? my father said, dripping sarcasm all over the place.
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My face burned. Why couldnt he ever just answer a question normally? Why did everything have to be a fight? Girls! my dad said, stepping into the hallway with an old black suitcase. Darcy came back upstairs with her hood up over her head and her black jeans folded in her arms. Are you ready? my dad asked. Ill get my bags, Darcy replied, ducking past him into her room. I grabbed my stuff and rejoined them, just as Darcy arrived in her doorway with her hobo bag on one shoulder, her backpack over the other, her rolling suitcase behind her, and her earbuds in her ears. Are you coming with us? I asked Agent Messenger. She shook her head. I have to stay here. Im the expert on Krauss, she said, gesturing to the flashing lights outside. Oh, okay, I said softly, a tremor of nerves running through me. I need your cell phones, Messenger said, holding out a palm. What? Why? Darcys eyes were wide. She was addicted to texting. I was sure she couldnt imagine the next hour without her phone, let alone possibly days. You cannot contact anyone, Messenger answered as I handed my phone over. If anyone knows where youre going, it puts not only all of you, but them in danger as well. And when you get where youre going, you cant tell anyone
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who you really are or where youre from or why youre there. For your safety and theirs. My father gave her his cell. Darcy pulled hers out and started to hit some buttons. Messenger snatched it right out of her hands. Hey! Darcy shouted. I was just deleting something! Dont worry. I wasnt planning on reading your love notes, the agent shot back. Now lets go. We followed Messenger down the stairs. I plucked my rain jacket from its hook and trailed my family out the front door, where dozens of police cars sat silently, their lights flashing. The rain was coming down hard. I tugged my hood up to cover my hair. A big black SUV sat in the center of our driveway, its chrome hubcaps glossy from the rain. My dad was just reaching for the drivers side door handle, when Messengers phone let out a pealing screech. We all froze. Maybe theyd found him. Maybe we didnt have to leave. Yes. Yes, I understand, Messenger said. Of course, sir. Yes. Were on our way now. She shoved the phone in her pocket and opened the car door for my dad. So much for that. Do not stop until you are out of the state, she instructed. Do not make any calls, dont tell anyone who you really are, and stick to your new backstories. Any questions?
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Will an agent meet us there? my dad said. Messenger shook her head. All our manpower will be dedicated to hunting this guy down. You have top security Im only one of a handful of agents who even knows where this safe house is and we cant risk blowing your location. Ill be in touch next weekand Ill hopefully be bringing you home then. Anything else? No, he said. No, Im fine. But there was fear behind his eyes, and my palms started to sweat. I hadnt seen my dad look scared since right before my mom died. Sad, yes. Angry, every day. But scared? Never. Good, she said. Now hit the road. She turned, folded her tall frame behind the wheel of her car, and slammed the door. For a long moment, my father, Darcy, and I just stood there. All I wanted to do was go back inside, crawl into bed, and bury my head under the pillows. It was our house. Our home. I saw my sister and me playing tea party on the porch when we were little. Saw my mom planting flowers along the front walk. Saw my dad teaching me how to roller-skate in the driveway. Saw the hearse arriving to take my mother away the day she died. Saw my father weeping in my grandmas arms on the front step. There were awful memories in this house, many Id rather forget, but there were a lot of
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good ones, too. My heart constricted at the thought of leaving them all behindat leaving my mom behind. As I opened the back door, I saw Darcy wipe at her eyes. She got in next to my father and hunkered down. A few of the patrol cars backed up and out of the way to make room as we pulled out of the drive. My father cleared his throat and shifted the SUV into gear, then drove down the street. When we got to the stop sign at the end of the street, I turned around to take one last look at the brick facade of my home, my fingers digging into the faux-leather seat. Then my dad took the turn, and the house disappeared behind the trees.

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THE THRILL
And so she was on the run. It wasnt the way he usually did things, but he could adjust. He could adapt. That was the mark of a highly developed human being. He crouched in the neighbors yard, behind a childs playhouse, and watched. He watched the sister curse under her breath as she yanked open the car door. Watched the father struggling with his own emotions as he took the wheel. Those two were so predictable. It almost made him want to kill them first. To do that for her. To rid her of them before he took what he needed. Then he watched her. Watched her flick her hood up
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over that lovely hair. Watched her curl into her seat. Saw her staring at her own bedroom window, longing for it even after he had invaded it. He waited until the SUV had pulled out of the driveway and started down the street. Then he stood up, shook the water from his police hat, and flicked on his flashlight. No one looked at him as he made his way around the side of the house, through the blooming azalea hedge and across the walk. No one blinked when he popped open the door of the idling police cruiser. He smiled and flicked on the stereo, then jammed the car into gear. No one had a clue.

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AT LARGE
Authorities are still scouring the state for accused serial killer Roger Krauss, the radio announcer said in her nasally voice. The man who is believed to have murdered fourteen girls and attacked one more is still at large Darcy hit the OFF button on the radio. My dad shot her an irked look, which she ignored. I wondered if Christopher was watching the news. If he had tried to call me. If on Monday, when we werent at school, he would realize that wed had to run. If only Id called him before Id found the sick present Steven Nell had left on my bed, before Messenger had taken our phones. I would have given anything right now just to hear his voice.
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It was four in the morning and wed been driving nonstop for seven hours. Wed barely spoken, the only sounds the tires thrumming over the highway; the radio, which Darcy kept turning on and off intermittently; and the mechanical voice of the GPS, which was leading us down I-95 to our final destination in South Carolina. The roads had been nearly empty, save for the occasional sedan and eighteenwheeler delivering cargo from one state to the next. This must be the most boring stretch of land in America, my father muttered through his teeth, hunching over the steering wheel as he squinted out the windshield. The rain had let up somewhere in Maryland, and now we were in Virginia, surrounded by a dense thicket of trees on either side of the highway, dividing us from northbound traffic and the farmlands to the west. It felt like the scenery hadnt changed in hours. My body was heavy. Id been fighting to stay awakescared of the nightmares that I knew would overtake me as soon as I closed my eyesbut it was a losing battle. Id been blearily watching the exits pass, one by one, counting the miles we were putting between us and the place where Mr. Nell had attacked me. Each mile made me feel safer, calmer, until my breathing grew steady and my eyelids lowered as I felt sleep overtake me. A loud horn blared, and my eyes snapped open. The car was suddenly flooded with light. I twisted around in my seat. A
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huge truck was bearing down on us, its brights so blinding I could barely make out the boxy shape of the cab. My heart lurched into my throat, and my dad sat up straight, glaring into the rearview mirror. Whats this jackass doing? A loud horn sounded again and I screamed. What the hell? Darcy turned in her seat and squinted, lifting a hand to block the light. Just go around, asshole! she shouted. Darcy! my dad hollered. Language! And then the truck bumped us from behind. Now all three of us screamed. My father swerved, and there was a screech of tires. Oh my god, its him. Its him! I cried, curling forward, my head between my hands and my forehead to my knees. In my minds eye, I pictured Steven Nell behind the wheel of the truck, his thin lips peeled back to reveal yellowed teeth as he bore down on my family. The truck slammed into us again, and my head snapped forward. I pictured his cracked, dry knuckles as he clung to the steering wheel, the ugly bags under his sadistic eyes, that faded plaid shirt and awful corduroy jacket hed been wearing in the woods. Its not him, Rory, my father said, sounding panicked. Its some drunk who doesnt know what hes doing.
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The trucks engine was so loud in my ear I could have sworn we were under the tractor trailers hood. Another crash. The car lurched. My father cursed as he struggled with the wheel. What!? Darcy screeched, one hand braced against the dashboard. What is it? Our bumpers stuck to his truck. Suddenly, the truck revved again, and our car started to speed out of control toward a looming green exit sign. My stomach bottomed out. This was it. We were going to die. My family was going to die. Dad! Whatre you doing? Darcy cried. Its not me! Its him! my father shouted, his hands off the wheel. Dad! Do something! Do something! I screamed. But it was too late. There was an awful screaming, squealing sound of tires burning on pavement. Then we were spinning. The force of it threw me against the side of the car. My skull slammed into the window. Everything jarred. Everything hurt. My shoulder. My knees. My ribs. My heart. The car spun again, rattling my insides. I felt something tug at my chest, tug at my mind. Like I was trying to float outside the car and into the ether, trying to escape what was happening. For a split second, I was hovering outside my body, looking down, watching myself cower
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in fear. Then we spun once more, and I felt the seat belt cut into my thighs. Darcys screams grew louder, pained, desperate. And then, all of a sudden, we stopped. There was another deafening engine growl, and the peeling of tires as the truck took off into the night. Then everything went painfully, eerily silent.

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DONE
Girls? Girls! My fathers eyes bulged as he struggled with his seat belt. My stomach was turning itself inside out, on fire, trying to rip itself free of my body. I undid my own belt and doubled over, gasping for breath. Dad? Darcy croaked. I turned my face and looked up. She kept going cross-eyed as she tried to focus and she finally closed her eyes, rubbed them, then opened them again. He reached out to touch her cheeks, turning her head back and forth slowly as she blinked at him. M fine, she muttered.
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Rory? Dad said. Im okay, I gasped. I think. Slowly, I began to sit up, my hand over my stomach. The pain was still there, but I was able to take a deep breath without wanting to pass out. The truck had pushed us off the highway, and wed come to a stop down a steep, grassy embankment, just yards from the concrete off-ramp. The highway loomed overhead, out of view and quiet. My father swallowed so hard I heard the gulp. He opened his door with a piercing creak. Stay here. Wait! Wherere you going? I blurted, grabbing for his shoulder over the back of his seat. Im going to see if we still have a bumper, he said grimly, making it clear he was doubtful. I need to see if we can still drive the car. But But what? he said impatiently. What if hes still out there? I asked in a quiet voice. What if hes just waiting for It wasnt Steven Nell, Rory, my father said gently. My eyes burned with hot tears that I barely managed to hold back. How do you know? Hes right, Darcy said, turning in her seat. If it was him, he wouldve stuck around to make sure the job was done, right? Do you hear anything? Do you see the truck?
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I swallowed back a sob that was lodged in my throat and looked around. It was too dark to see much beyond the dense wall of trees, but the off-ramp was silent. Even the highway was dead. Okay, I said, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat and looked at my dad. Okay. He turned off the engine, pocketed the keys, and got out. I pressed my nose to the window, trying to watch him, but there was nothing outside the windows. Nothing but blackness. Darcy, do you see Dad? I said urgently. Im sure hes fine, she said, picking at her silver nail polish. A minute ticked by. Then another. My heart pounded painfully. What could be taking so long? Darcy shrugged and went to open the door. I lunged forward. Dont go out there! Rory. My sister leveled me with a controlling stare. Its fine. Im just going to tell him we want to get the eff out of here. Dont, I said, shaking my head. Somethings not right. And thats when I heard it. The low, mournful whistle, as clear as day. It was the Beatles song The Long and Winding Road. Darcy, I gasped.
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Darcys eyes widened, and she sat up straight. Oh my god, she breathed. Mr. Nell always whistled that in the hallways. She reached over to the drivers side and flicked on the headlights with a decisive snap. The yellow glow of the headlights caught in the misty air, illuminating the grassy expanse next to the embankment, the looming thicket of trees, and . . . I inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly. It couldnt . . . it just couldnt be. Is that . . . Dad . . . ? Darcy said, her voice barely a whisper. Our father lay in the middle of the off-ramp, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. His mouth frozen open in a scream. His dead eyes staring straight at us. Before I could process what I was seeing, before I could put a name to what was happening, a rock came careening through the back windshield of the SUV, shattering the glass and spraying me with debris. Darcy and I screamed. It was happening again. Again. Again. Again. Only this time Darcy was with me. And my dad . . . I drove my fingernails into my thighs, willing myself to act. Mr. Nell was out there. My father was dead. And in seconds, we would be dead, too. It was time to move.
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Darcy, we have to go. Now, I said through my teeth, shoving open my door. She didnt move. My feet hit the pavement, and I dashed around the car to her side. Dont look, I commanded myself, angling my gaze away from my father. I tore open the passenger-side door and yanked Darcy from the seat. Come on, I urged, but Darcy just sat there, a horrorstruck expression on her face. Darcy! We have to run, do you hear me? I said, grasping her hands. Run! Finally, my sister snapped to focus. She grasped my fingers, and together we sprinted toward the thicket of trees separating the southbound traffic from the northbound lanes. We have to get to the other side of the highway, I told her through gasps for breath, a plan crystallizing in my brain. Our side of the highway was deadbut maybe there were cars going north. We have to flag down a car. Darcy nodded, keeping pace with me step for step. The woods pressed in thick around us. It wasnt raining anymore, but fat droplets from the earlier downpour dripped off the leaves overhead, plopping onto my shoulders and hair. My breath was jagged in my chest. Branches tore at our skin, tattooing our flesh with angry red marks. I looked briefly behind us, and a tree branch snapped into my cheek.
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Instinctively, my hand went to my face. When I pulled it away, it was sticky with blood. Rory Miller, a sickly familiar voice called. Where did you go? The sound of footsteps thundered behind us, next to us, in front of us. They were everywhere and nowhere, bouncing off the trees with the same disembodied echo as the voice. Rory, Darcy panted, her eyes wide. What if he catches us? He wont! I insisted. I thought of my first cross-country race in fifth grade. Of my moms smiling face, already thinned out from the treatments, as she waited for me at the finish line. Id slowed my steps as the final marker came into view, letting the person a few paces behind me pass me and pull away. I didnt want the spotlight, even then. I wanted the shadows. I didnt run to win. I ran to free my mind. But now I had to win. We had to win. Because if we didnt, if we didnt get away, if we let fear take over, we would lose everything. A huge tree loomed ahead, and Darcy broke her grip on my hand so we could run on either side of it. I sprinted forward, but when I reached out to take her hand once more, all I grabbed was air.
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Darcy! I whispered, not slowing my pace as I looked around. Where did you go? Rory? a faint voice called. Darcy! Rory? the voice came again. I stopped and whirled around. The wooded area dividing the highway was much larger than Id anticipated, and I was in a clearing about twenty feet wide. There was a break in the clouds, revealing a perfect half moon hanging overhead. Darcy! I shouted, suddenly not caring if it drew Mr. Nell to me. I had to find my sister. Darcy! Where are you? Birds took off from a tree overhead. A squirrel scampered past my feet. A soft moan sounded in the distance. Minutes felt like hours as I whirled around and around, looking for Darcy. Then I saw it. A long, pale finger peeked out from a tangle of low bushes and brush. The nail was painted a shimmery silver that glowed in the moonlight. No, I whispered, my blood flowing like ice through my veins. No, no, no. Slowly, so slowly, I cut through the clearing. Dead leaves crackled underfoot. A twig snapped. Fallen pine needles rustled like sandpaper on wood, and an owl hooted in the
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distance. Too soon I reached the hand. Heart in my throat, I pushed back the brush. A loud sob escaped my lips. My sistermy beautiful sisterwas lying there. She was on her stomach, her arms over her head like she had been struck down mid-dive into a swimming pool. Her dark hair fanned out in all angles, hiding her facebut not the deep gash in the back of her skull. Oh god, oh god. Panic swelled within me as I grabbed her wrist. Her skin was still warm, but when I fumbled for her pulse, my heart shattered. There was nothing. Nothing. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the blood matting my sisters hair. Darcy, the girl who wore a tutu for an entire year, whod kicked Grant Sibley when he pulled my braid in fourth grade, whod sometimes picked on me until I cried but who I loved desperately, was dead. And so was my dad. My family, everyone I loved, was gone. Rory Miller . . . a disembodied voice whispered behind me. I spun around. A figure was standing there, hooded and dark, a shadow come to life. Steven Nell. He wore the awful tan corduroy jacket over a dark blue shirt. His wire-rimmed glasses glinted in the moonlight, and he held a long knife in one hand and a bloody rock in
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the other. His nose was flat where Id broken it, his cheekbones sharp, and his ice-blue eyes were narrowed at me. Miss me? he simpered. Bile rose in my throat. You killed my sister, I hissed, rage and grief battling in me. You killed my dad. Mr. Nell smirked. I wouldnt have had to if youd just come with me. But you didnt play by the rules. The silver knife at his side gleamed. Are you going to be a good girl now and behave? Was I going to be a good girl? Was he serious? Adrenaline rushed through me, and I let out a feral scream. I saw the startled look in his eyes just before I hit him, like he hadnt expected me to fight. Like hed thought I was just some meek girl whod gotten lucky back in New Jersey. Like I would just accept that hed murdered my family, that hed taken all I had left like it was no more meaningful than snuffing out a candle. Like I was going to be his fifteenth girl after all. Sixteenth, a mechanical voice in my head said. Hed already taken Darcy. My knee knocked into his hip with a loud crack. He let out a cry of pain, but I didnt feel anything except the rage that flowed through me like molten lava. The knife slipped from his hand, landing with a soft thud on the ground at our feet. He grabbed for my shoulder, but I ducked, taking an elbow to his stomach.
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He gasped, heaving a loud oof, and went down. Before I could move, his hand wrapped around my ankle. He gave it a hard tug, and I felt myself falling backward. I kicked hard, flailing my limbs, and my left foot connected with something just as my back hit the ground. I heard a crunch and looked up to see Mr. Nell crouching with his hands over his face. With grim satisfaction, I realized that Id rebroken his nose. You bitch, he sputtered, blood streaming down his face. I tried to kick him again, but he caught my foot and twisted it, hard. I felt something pop in my leg, and pain exploded through my body. He pinned me down and thrust his knee against my ribs, pressing me against the ground. A moment later, two rough hands closed around my neck and squeezed. I gasped and strained, my hands pulling at his to try to free myself from his grip, but he was too powerful. His blue eyes bored into mine, and a drop of blood from his broken nose dripped onto my cheek. I told you Id have you, he said with a smile. His words were warm and sickly loving. I told you. He squeezed harder. Gray spots formed at the edge of my vision. I clutched at the ground, trying to hold on, and my hand felt something cold, metallic. The knife. My fingers closed around the handle.
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Summoning all my remaining strength, I arced the knife up and thrust the blade into his back. He let out a loud roar and flew off me. Oxygen rushed into my lungs, and I rolled over onto my side, gulping greedily. Mr. Nell contorted his body and pulled the knife from his back. Only the tip was red. The wound wasnt deepmy fading strength hadnt allowed for it. Pain tore through me as I lay there, staring up at my would-be killer. My leg throbbed, my neck was tender, and each inhale sent needles through my chest; Mr. Nell had broken my ribs when he knelt on me. But I still had one good leg, my arms, and my rage. When Steven charged me again, knife in hand, I was ready for him. A second before he reached me, I swung my right leg out and tripped him, then trapped my legs in his. It was agony, but I held on. The move was something Darcy and I had done when we used to play Crocodile in our backyard when we were little. Our legs were the snapping jaws, and wed bring down each other and our friends when they tried to jump over us. And just like our friends had, Steven tumbled over me, his legs trapped in mine. He twisted, trying to stay upright, but went down, landing hard on his back, his right hand pummeling down on my stomach while his left flopped
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uselessly against the ground. I gasped at the impact, and he let out a low groan, the wind knocked out of him. I told you Id get you, he rasped once more, a small smile flitting across his bloody lips. I blinked, confused. But as I struggled to sit up, a sharp pain tore through my abdomen. It was then that I realized that the knife was still in Stevens handand that the blade was buried in my stomach. Only the hilt was visible, and all around it bloomed a dark, growing stain. I noticed with an odd detachment that it was the exact same hue as the red rose Steven had left on my bed. He was right. He had gotten me. Hed gotten my dad, then Darcy, and now me. This time, as I lay there with the evergreen trees circling me, my life did pass before my eyes. I saw my moms laughing face as we sat at the dinner table. My dads proud grin when I got first place at the science fair. Darcys flashing green eyes as she snuck an extra scoop of ice cream. Christophers sweet smile before he kissed me. Mr. Nell had won. Or had he? I wrapped my hands around the knifes handle, my entire body on fire. Id taken enough biology to know that the only thing keeping me from bleeding out was the knife, and that removing it would be the last thing I did. The second to last, I vowed.
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I stared at Steven, his legs trapped in mine, his torso splayed out on the muddy forest floor. His eyes were closed behind his cracked, wire-rimmed glasses, and he was lying on his back, taking rattling breaths through his broken teeth. His tan corduroy jacket was stained with dirt and blood, the flaps open, exposing his ripped flannel shirt and his heart. Gritting my teeth, I pulled the knife from my stomach. I registered the pain dimly, but I was too close to the end to feel anything but my need for revenge. Stevens eyes flicked open. His pupils were huge and as black as his soul. Then the moon came out again, spilling bright light over us, and all I could see was my own reflection in the lenses of his glasses. My hands lifting the knife. My blood dripping from the metal blade. The grim set of my lips as I swung down hard, right over Stevens heart. When it was done, I lay back, spent, staring up at the black sky. Rory! a voice yelled from somewhere. Rory! Suddenly, I woke up in the backseat of our new SUV, a scream wedged in my throat. Darcys hand gripped the front of my sweatshirt. Shhh! Dads sleeping, she hissed, releasing me and twisting back into her seat next to my father. You were having a nightmare.
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A nightmare? I shook my head, my heart pounding wildly. My shirt clung to my back in patches of sweat and my neck was wet under my braid. I ran my hands over the seat and over my body, touching anything real to prove that what Id just experienced was nothing but a dream. My body was whole. My sister, very much alive, was staring at me, and on my lap was the envelope containing the story of Nick, Darcy, and Rory Thayer, which wasnt all that different than our real story. Except for the fact that we came from Manhattan and that my father was a private tutor instead of a literature professor at Princeton. I breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm myself down and get my bearings. Where are we now? I pressed my forehead against the window, the cool glass bringing me fully back to reality. The car was surrounded by fog, and my father was snoring behind the wheel. A foghorn sounded and I realized the engine wasnt even running. I squinted out the window and saw another cars side mirror just inches away, not moving. We were on a ferry, just like the one wed taken when we went to my cousin Talias wedding up in Massachusetts. Darcy shrugged. No clue. I just woke up because you were yelling. Have we stopped since the crash? I asked.
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What crash? Darcy asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. I balked. The crash at the exit in Virginia. Darcy stared at me like I was a crazy person. Rory, you passed out in Virginia. There was no crash. There was no crash. As Darcys words washed over me, I let out a sigh of relief. Thank god. Darcy rolled her eyes. Okay, if youre done freaking out Im going to sleep some more. I nodded weakly, pulling out my iPad and clicking over to my copy of The Emperor of All Maladies. I was too scared to go back to sleep in case I started dreaming again. But as I stared at the glowing screen, a faint smile flitted across my lips. We were on a ferry to a safe house. We were alive. And we were far, far away from Steven Nell.

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My father and Darcy stirred just as the fog started to lift. To my right was dark blue water and whitecaps as far as the eye could see. There was a clatter and a shouted directive, answered by another and another. The ferry was docking. Are we there? Darcy asked with a yawn, looking out the window. My father blinked the sleep from his eyes and reached for the GPS. It let out a loud double beep and flashed to life. The white screen displayed the message no one ever wants to see: NO SIGNAL . Ahead of us, the car ramp was lowered. A man in a blue
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polo shirt with a white swan embroidered onto the breast pocket waved us ahead. My dad started the engine and sat up, clearing his throat. Guess were about to find out. He drove us off the ferry, bumping onto the ramp and into a small parking lot, where a man was handing out maps. My dad cracked his window to take one, and a warm, salty sea breeze tickled my skin. I pushed the button for my own window, too, breathing in as the fresh air surrounded me. Outside, seagulls cawed and a bell on a buoy sounded. As my dad angled into a parking spot to look at the map, I watched the passengers disembarking onto the pedestrian walkway. It was mostly kids my age and younger adults, with a few middle-aged and elderly people peppered in. I saw two guys holding hands, the definition of opposites attract. The taller guy had dark skin and dark hair and wore a tight graphic tee and a funky straw fedora, while his boyfriend had white-blond hair and freckles, and sported a green polo shirt over shorts. But almost everyone else seemed to be alone, lost in their own thoughts. I sat up a little straighter as I noticed a carved wooden sign that was painted dark blue on the background, the words spelled out in raised white letters:
WELCOME TO JUNIPER LANDING

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Above the message was a wooden swan, puffing its chest out proudly, its wings back and its head held high. Rory, do the pamphlets Messenger gave us have an address? my dad asked, turning the map over. I riffled through the papers on my lap and found a little card in the folder pocket with a house key taped to it. Yep. Ninety-nine Magnolia Street. My dad dropped a finger on the map. Got it, he said. Right on the beach. Nice, Darcy commented, slipping on a pair of sunglasses. My dad pulled out of the parking lot and drove slowly into town. The buildings were crowded close together, their wooden shingles weathered and gray, the white trim around their windows splintered in places. There were wide-plank porches; bright, beach-themed wind socks tossed by the breeze; and surfboards leaned up against doorways. At least a dozen bikes were parked all over, none of them locked up, and as we rolled by a butcher shop, I heard kitschy fifties music playing through a crackly old speaker. Every window had a flower box, and every business had a hand-painted sign and a colorful awning. We passed everything from a bakery to a bathingsuit shop to a corner stand selling sunglasses. It actually
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reminded me of Ocean City, where we rented a house for a week every August. Definitely a vacation destination, which would explain all the young singles on the ferry. They probably came out from the mainland every morning to work. A place like this had to be booming in the summer. The road opened up onto a town square and a pretty park with a stone swan fountain that spouted water into the air. A guy with long dreads and a knit cap stood in the center of one of the crisscrossing walkways, singing One Love. He had a red, yellow, and green guitar strap that looked like it had seen better days, and his guitar case was open on the ground in front of him. He kept time by tapping his bare foot. Way to embrace the stereotype, dude, Darcy said under her breath. Over his head, strung from lamppost to lamppost, was a big blue sign that read
JUNIPER LANDING ANNUAL FIREWORKS DISPLAY! FRIDAY AT SUNDOWN!

I turned around as we passed the Juniper Landing Police Department, wanting to solidify the location of the small brick building in my memory, just in case. In the distance, I could just make out the top two points of a bridge above the wafting white clouds of the fog, which still hovered over the water.

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Why didnt we take the bridge? I asked, sitting forward again. Pausing at a stop sign, my dad glanced in the side mirror, then turned to look over his shoulder. Because the GPS took us to the ferry, he said impatiently. My face burned. I was so sick of my dads demeaning tone I could have screamed. But, of course, I said nothing. As always. We started moving again. A couple of girls strolled by on the sidewalk and stared at our car like they were trying to see if there was anyone famous inside. One of them, a tall, solid-looking girl with curly red hair, caught my eye and didnt look away. She held my gaze until I finally felt so uncomfortable I turned my head and pretended to cough. Oh my god, check out the tall-dark-and-handsome! Darcy hissed. She sat forward in her seat as we passed the Juniper Landing General Store, which had a blue-and-white striped awning, a couple of white wire tables set up outside, and a big sign in the window advertising breakfast and lunch service as well as
ISLAND. THE BEST HOMEMADE ICE CREAM ON THE

A dark-haired, broad-shouldered, square-jawed guy

leaned against the window with one foot pressed back into

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the glass. He was casually flipping a quarter that glinted in the sun, which gave it the appearance of gold or bronze, and laughing at something the blond girl next to him had said. His laughter carried across the road. On the other side of him was a guy with longish blond hair, sharp cheekbones, and blue eyes so striking I could see them even from this distance. His hands were crossed behind his back, his elbows out, and he was staring at our car. As I watched, he nudged the dark-haired boy, and he looked up, too. Then the blond girl did, then the petite Asian girl next to her, then the three other kids sitting at a table nearby. They simply stopped talking and stared. Darcy instantly sat back and looked straight ahead, trying to appear cool, but I couldnt tear my eyes from the blond guy. His gaze was locked on mine, much like the redhead on the sidewalks had been. But somehow, this was different. He was looking at me as if he knew me. As if we knew each other. But also as if he was sad to see me. My heart started to pound in a whole new way. Like I was on the edge of something, but I didnt know whether it was something good or something bad. God. He is literally the hottest guy Ive ever seen, Darcy said as my father pulled the car toward a dip in the road. Maybe this whole running from Princeton thing wasnt the worst idea ever.
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I didnt answer her. Instead, I turned in my seat to look back at the crowd once more. They were still staring. And they kept right on staring until we finally dipped down the hill and out of sight.

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