Enhanced by Carrie Jones

Author:Carrie Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

CHAPTER 10

The decision to trust a total stranger or not to trust them is kind of a gut reaction, an instinct, and I don’t waste time second-guessing myself as I run through the woods outside of the mansion-slash-compound-slash-whatever. Jon Hill wrote on my hand to use the crystal and to leave. He said that they want to kill me—not China, but the organization. The question is why. Why would they want to kill me? It has to do with their worrying about what I might become, I guess.

Okay.

And he wants me to use the crystal to find the others. As I narrowly avoid slamming into a tree trunk, I think about when I activated the crystal. There was a guy. I saw a guy who could potentially be dead. He must be one of the people I need to find. But why?

No idea.

And there was the other guy—I only saw the back of his head—who was in that medical room that was all creepy.

How did Jon Hill even know about the crystal? Nobody is supposed to know about the crystal.

Jon Hill is probably risking a lot letting me escape.

Enoch the dog seemed to agree with his assessment of things, so I am still not second-guessing my decision. I just feel a bit bad leaving China.

China doesn’t know. The words are still on my hand. Why wouldn’t they tell one of their best employees their plans? Who are these people?

“They suck,” I whisper to Enoch.

Enoch sits abruptly. I stop. “What? Is it a Wendigo?”

Enoch flattens on her belly. She hits me with her paw.

“You want me to hide?”

Just then a motor rumbles, a softness getting louder and closer. I slam down to the ground next to the dog. She gives me five. Lights slash through the trees and the ground vibrates beneath me.

“Bad guys?” I whisper.

She doesn’t answer.

“You want me to be quiet?”

She still doesn’t answer, which I take as an affirmative in the dog world of interspecies communication. I sigh. My junior year of high school should be full of cheering competitions, bad dances, studying, and stressing about college. Instead, I am flat on the cold, snow-frosted forest floor talking to a dog, possibly running for my life. Strike that. I am almost definitely running for my life. I’m trusting the advice of a random stranger, running from the people I wanted to work for and help. And what am I running to? That’s the next big question.

When we can no longer hear the car’s engine, Enoch stands back up. I follow her lead and rush along parallel to the road, a few feet into the woods, but not so far that I will get lost. We break out on the main road.

“He wrote that the car is to the left of the entrance,” I announce, but Enoch has already turned her doggy self and she heads straight for some brush. “Here?”

She barks, which I take as a good sign because she finally feels safe enough to make noise.

All around us is darkness and quiet.

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