THE FOREST WAS EERILY quiet as Cora and Lucky passed among the trees. It had been almost three days since they’d found each other on the beach, but in a place without clocks or lengthening shadows, did time even exist the same way?
Cora hadn’t slept more than a few groggy hours, and it made her headache worse. At home, there’d been one sleepless night, driving the Virginia back roads, when she’d heard a radio program on a psychological experiment in which they put test subjects in a room without natural light. Strange things started to happen: people would sleep for days on end, then wake for a week at a time. Was she changing, like the people in the experiment? Her temper had gotten snappier—everyone’s had.
She hugged her arms around her white dress. She’d found a dozen of them the night before, in the dead girl’s armoire. Rolf had said it was wrong to wear the dead girl’s dresses because the Kindred might punish her, but it was worth the risk to shed the punk look and feel like herself.
They followed the trail past a chalet with murky black windows. “They find a way to watch us everywhere, don’t they?” she said.
Lucky glanced at the window. “I’ll give them something to watch.” He raised his middle finger.
Cora grinned, but then she glanced behind them at the trail that had somehow telescoped in distance, and pain shot through her skull. “Ah—my head. Feels like someone’s stabbing screwdrivers behind my eyes.” She leaned her head against a tree, fighting the pain. “It has to be like Rolf said. Our minds can’t handle the unnatural angles and distances.”
“It can’t help that you’ve barely slept,” he said. She looked up at the worry in his eyes as he crouched next to her. “Didn’t you think I’d notice? You look like you’re practically sleepwalking. I . . .” His voice faded as he caught sight of something behind her. “Are those . . . platforms?”
Cora shaded her eyes as she looked in the direction he pointed. Dark shadows in the trees formed into rough shapes that looked a bit like platforms and tree houses and ladders. “You think it’s one of the puzzles?”
“It isn’t an Ewok village.” He stood. “We should check it out. I’ll give you a boost, if you feel up to it.”
Cora hesitated. In seventh grade she’d climbed a high ropes course at day camp. She’d been fearless, the first one to the top, and that night her mother had invited her friends over for cake to celebrate. But that was before that horrible weightless fall when her car had plunged three stories off a bridge.
You were fearless once, she reminded herself.
“Yeah. I can do it.” He formed a stirrup with his hands. She stepped up and clambered up a branch, blinking through bleary eyes. Lucky hoisted himself up beside her, as effortlessly as if he’d spent his life climbing trees, and she gaped. “Maybe that’s why the Kindred took you,” she said. “Supernatural climbing ability.”
He grinned and then pointed down. “It helps to know we don’t need to worry about falling. The ground cover’s spongy pine needles. I bet we’d only bounce.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t want to bruise any of their precious specimens.”
Slowly she climbed higher, until they reached a platform circled by a thick rope. She gripped the safety of the rope, trying to catch her breath. Ten feet away, a metal object gleamed on another platform.
“Do you see that?”
Lucky shaded his eyes. “Looks like a token chute, like in the shops.” He crouched at the platform’s edge, judging the distance, and then looked back at the rope. “The only way over is to swing across.”
“Swing across? Go ahead, Tarzan. I’ll wait here.”
“I’ll go first. Just watch how I do it.”
He swung out. Alone in the tree, Cora grabbed the trunk harder, eyes squeezed shut. She waited for the terrible crash as he fell, but none came. When she opened her eyes, he was standing on the next platform, dusting pine needles off his shirt.
“See?” he called. “Easy.”
“Easy for you,” she muttered. He threw the rope back. She searched her brain for words of advice from her father, but none came. She couldn’t smile her way through this one. She gripped the rope, blood pulsing in her ears. Don’t look down. She jumped off, shrieking as she hurtled through the air. The world was a blur. Branches and leaves and Lucky, and then his gentle laughter was in her ear, and his body was pressed against hers.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
She pulled away to hide the burn in her cheeks. “Okay. I’ve met my vine-swinging quota for the day. I’m ready to head to solid ground.” She punched the chute’s red button. A flood of tokens slid out. Lucky pushed it too—just one.
“I guess I’m better at this than you,” she teased.
He wrapped his fingers around his single token. The smile fell off his face. “That’s the second time you’ve gotten more for solving the exact same puzzle. Listen, maybe we should keep this just between you and me. You know what Rolf said about how lab rats get angry when they sense unfairness. Not that we’re rats, but . . . When you got more tokens before, Rolf seemed frustrated.”
She shoved the tokens into her pocket nonchalantly, but Lucky’s words stuck in her mind like a thorn. What could the Kindred hope to achieve by spreading unfairness?
“Well. At least we’re done.”
“Uh . . . not yet.” He pointed toward the clearing. “We have to climb down.”
Any sense of accomplishment she’d had collapsed.
Lucky went first, moving fast, and was on the ground in no time. Cora took a deep breath. Not letting go of the trunk, she crawled to the closest branch, her muscles shaking. Left hand, then the right. Not so bad as long as she didn’t look down.
“You’re almost there,” Lucky called. “Two more branches.”
His voice gave her enough courage to glance down. That was a mistake. The ground was dizzyingly far, telescoping toward her, and her mind was already so sleep deprived.
Her hands slipped.
She grabbed for the branch again, but her hand glided off it, and she tumbled toward the clearing.
Lucky caught her. It was awkward and painful and she must have landed half against his head, because when she found her feet, his ear was red and his hair was ruffled.
“Whoa. That was close.” His breathing was only slightly taxed, his eyes glinting with the thrill of having finished the puzzle.
She tried to comb her hair into some semblance of neat. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying yourself.”
“Rescuing a pretty girl? I don’t mind too much.” He still held her tight. He was warm—she had missed that. The only other boy who had ever hugged her so close was Charlie. Her brother had always smelled of cologne, but Lucky was pine sap and cut grass. Home. The burn spread to her cheeks.
He let go of her almost reluctantly, and she almost wished he hadn’t.
Overhead, the light grew brighter.
“Noon.” Lucky slipped his token into his pocket. “We should keep going before it’s time to turn back.”
“I hope Rolf and Nok are getting along,” Cora said as they ducked through a perfectly engineered tunnel of rhododendron. “They’re sort of a mismatched pair.”
“Maybe the Kindred’s research found that opposites attract. Look at us—I mean, back home, guys like me don’t end up with girls like you.”
“Girls like me?”
“Rich girls. Important girls.” He paused. “Beautiful girls.”
Beautiful? Not with her eyes sunken from lack of sleep. Not with her hair tangled and wild. At least she was walking in front, where he couldn’t see her burning cheeks. The last thing she needed was to start blushing whenever he threw his dimple around. The Kindred would love that. The researchers were probably checking off boxes left and right. Attraction? Check. Witty banter? Check. Rescuing a girl in distress? Check.
“Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with opposites,” she said. “Maybe there’s some connection between the couples we don’t know about. We both lived in Virginia for a while.”
“Right. That’s true.” Lucky kept walking in silence. Cora tossed a glance over her shoulder. What wasn’t he telling her?
They crested a ridge and stopped. Ahead, colored lights twinkled between the trees. One flashed blue, another orange. Neon signs.
“Is that . . . another town?” She squinted at the lights. “Maybe there are more kids like us. Or maybe it’s where the Kindred live.”
Music slowly trickled through the trees, finding its way to her ears.
Don’t belong in paradise,
Don’t belong in hell . . .
She shot Lucky a worried look. “That’s my song.”
They pushed through the last of the forest, toward an enormous cherry tree that rose in the center of a town square exactly like theirs. Pooled in the grass was one of Leon’s ties. The same tie he had ripped off their first day.
“Oh, no,” she whispered.
“It’s our town,” Lucky said quietly. “We’ve come back.”
Across the town square, Nok and Rolf emerged from the jungle, looking stricken.
Cora ran toward them. “Did the paths loop you back too?”
Nok had gone pale. “Yeah . . . we didn’t turn once, I swear.”
A curse came from the boardwalk, where Leon came stalking up the beach. “Bloody hell. I must have tramped up that mountain for six hours, and in five minutes I was back. After a couple hundred feet, it started snowing. Looked like goddamn Siberia. Then I find sleds, a whole stack of them just sitting there, and a racecourse marked with colored flags. Rode a sled down the mountain and ended up right here on the beach.”
“I told you all trails lead back,” Rolf said. “It doesn’t matter what direction we took, or what time of day we left, or how quickly we walked.”
As though someone had flipped a switch, all the lights of the shops turned off, plunging the town into a darkness lit only by twilight.
“Um, was that supposed to happen?” Nok asked.
A single light flickered back on—the drugstore’s. It was on the end of the row of buildings, next to the boardwalk. The front door had always been sealed.
Now, it was wide open.
“Finally,” Leon muttered. “Valium. Percocet. They’ve taken pity on us.”
Lucky shot him a look. “I doubt our captors want you to get high.”
Hesitantly, Cora approached the open doorway. There was no countertop. No toys or candy. No black windows. If there was a puzzle, it was well hidden.
“I’ll go in first,” Lucky said. “If anything happens, let me do the talking.”
The five of them crammed into the drugstore, which looked the same size as the other shops from the outside but was considerably smaller inside. The odd angles made her head twist with pain. She spun, looking for numbers or buttons that might indicate a puzzle.
The front door slid closed.
They were packed together like cattle, pressed against the walls, and Cora’s lungs started to seize up. She’d been claustrophobic ever since the accident, when her father’s car had crashed into the river. The doors’ automatic locks had shorted out, locking them in. Water had first swallowed her ankles, then her knees, then her waist, until her father had broken the door window with a flashlight.
“Hey!” Leon pounded on the door. Cora’s heart was racing. Breathing was getting hard. Nok clenched her arms tightly over her chest. Rolf’s nervous fingers were tap-tap-tapping away. Every once in a while he would rub the top of his nose, adjusting glasses that weren’t there.
The bare walls made sense now. It wasn’t a puzzle.
It was a trap.