Page 32 of Uncontrolled

“This is not up for debate. Go home,” I repeat as I get into Talia’s vehicle. When I close the door, he’s still standing there, bewildered. I nudge my elbow onto the edge of the open window to cut off his view of me, keep my focus forward. “Drive,” I tell Talia.

A block later, when I check the rearview, he’s gone.

Allie

Compartmentalize, I tell myself. I picture shoving the last five minutes into a glass jar and jamming on the lid, except my worries come spilling out anyway. What if when I get back to the apartment, he’s not there?

His voice echoes in my mind. Am I in or out?

In, I want to scream. In because I’m too selfish to do the right thing! In because I can’t lose you! In because I don’t know how the hell you don’t already know this!

My teeth cut into my knuckle, my elbow still balanced on the door, the sultry night air rushing over me. Well, at least I know it can’t be love, I think. Because love’s supposed to be easy and nothing with him and me has been easy.

Four blocks later, the sick twist of my stomach settles and I’m fairly sure I can talk without sounding unhinged. “Hi,” I say, with false cheer.

Talia ignores me, her attention on the road. There’s not sufficient traffic to justify her concentration.

“Excited?” I ask, grabbing the seat rest to swing around and get a look at the kid.

“Yeah,” he says. Grinning, he rubs a shaved head with the gangly arm of a teenager who hasn’t quite grown into himself yet. He’s about fourteen, a spray of pimples across his nose and cheeks. “I know it’s morbid to be stoked someone died, but I’ve been waiting a month,” he admits and then his smile falters. “Sarah kept saying she wanted an easy resurrection for my first.” He trails off as if remembering who I am. “Sorry,” he whispers. “She was a blast.”

I decide to spare us both. The vehicle goes quiet, miles passing as we head out of town. Half an hour passes.

“What do you have on you if this job goes wrong?” I ask suddenly.

To his credit, CJ plunges straight into business mode. He lifts the hem of his plain white T-shirt to show me the hilt of a knife in a sheath at his waist. “Another on my ankle,” he says. “And I usually carry Mace with me but I didn’t have it tonight.”

I grunt.

“Won’t happen again,” he says. No apology, no excuses.

“Good.”

“Where’s your vial?” Talia asks from the driver’s seat.

Slipping his fingers into the collar of his shirt, CJ tugs loose a beaded chain. A silver casing dangles where I’m expecting blue glass. In it is the mix we all carry—aniline and adder venom to break our blood cells into useless sludge, and a powerful and instant paralytic to ease our suffering. I should have taken mine two weeks ago, when Jamison came for us. Talia and I both. Except I’d gotten in the nasty habit of storing it in a zipper pouch alongside my medical supplies. Now, it’s tucked safe in a pocket sewn into the seam of my bra. Protecting the blood is everything.

“Wait,” I say. “Isn’t that for cremains?”

“No, pills. It unscrews for quick access and it holds liquid without leaking. Glass freaks me out.” He tucks the metal tube under the fabric before he taps his chest as if to reassure himself. “I used to have nightmares I’d break it and poison myself.”

His lips purse and he leans against the seatback, studying me, then Talia in the rearview mirror.

“Question?” I prod.

“No, it’s fine.”

Beside me, Talia flips the turn signal and trades the two-lane highway for potholed tracks leading us deeper into the trees. A single set of headlights follows from the flow of traffic, no doubt another resident of the isolated homes here. “Can’t learn if you don’t ask,” Talia says. “It’s Allie’s job to teach you.”

To see it as solidarity would be asking too much. Still, it’s nice she’s not being spiteful.

Despite our reassurances, he takes a full thirty seconds to summon his courage. “My mom said you were both taken hostage. Is it true?”

The SUV shudders as it bounces over a patch of rough road. Behind us, the headlights of the other car do the same. Hopefully, they’re not going to the same address. The last thing we need is extra witnesses.

My hand clamps the headrest, unsure how to answer CJ’s question.

Talia sighs. “Briefly. We were in total command, which is why neither of us found it necessary to take the vial.” Convincing Talia to not mention Christopher’s presence, or role, had seemed an insurmountable task before she caved. I’m still not sure why she did. Our friendship would never come before the cluster’s safety, not to Talia. “We needed to get close to neutralize the threat.”

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