IT WAS CRAZY WHAT I was thinking—downright stupid, in fact—but I knew we had to do something. Sunshine’s death proved that.
My hands were shaking when I reached the Man in Orange.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice brimming with relief. “You won’t regret this.”
He extended his body forward so I could slice through the ropes behind his back.
I withdrew my knife. But instead of cutting the ropes, I placed the knife tip at the top button of his coat and sawed downward.
“What’re you doing?” he asked.
I didn’t stop until his coat and shirt opened up like a robe, sliced through from top to bottom. Snow pelted his chest.
“Hey!” he yelled, straining against his ropes. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I went to the next prisoner and did the same, cutting his coat and shirt from top to bottom. And then the prisoner next to him and the one after that until I’d gone to all of them, all fifty, slicing through their outer clothes as though gutting fish. They twisted and squirmed to avoid my blade.
“What’re you doing, Book?” Hope asked, but I didn’t answer her.
By now, the Hunters were yelling at me. Screaming. Cursing.
“What the hell?” “You can’t do that, ya little punk!” “We’re going to freeze to death out here!”
I turned to the Man in Orange and met his gaze. “I promise you: that’s not how you’re going to die.”
I thought of Cannon and the other LTs and that initial massacre in the mountains—how the Hunters had tracked them down and been so happy to finish them off. They’d even posed with the LTs’ bullet-riddled bodies like big game hunters on safari.
I don’t consider myself a vengeful person, but those memories allowed me to do what I did next.
Extending my knife, I swiped the blade across the lead Hunter’s stomach—one quick horizontal cut. Not deep enough to kill, just enough to draw blood.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the Man in Orange sputtered, writhing and twisting and tugging at his ropes.
I looked into his eyes and said, “What do you think I’m doing? I’m feeding the animals.”
I sliced a couple of the other Hunters, but not all. There was no need. Libertyville had taught me that the wolves had a taste for human flesh. The scent of just a little human blood would be enough. The other Less Thans and Sisters looked at me with questioning eyes.
“Time to leave,” I said.
Flush’s eyes widened. “And the wolves are gonna let us?”
“That’s what we’re about to find out.”
No one said anything. It was a crazy, stupid, desperate idea.
“Book’s right,” Cat said at last. “Let’s try it.”
Slowly, so as not to startle the circling wolves, everyone rose—all 120-something of us.
At first, the wolves didn’t know what to think, and for the longest time they continued their revolutions. Studying. Inspecting. Their whimpers increased, whipped up by the scent of blood and the prospect of an easy meal. Their muzzles pointed toward the sky, sniffing the air. They inched closer, pawing at the ground, their saliva dripping onto snow.
“Follow me,” I said, and inched away from the circle.
The others followed single file behind me, sliding through the snow. With each step, we grew closer and closer to the circle of wolves. They eyed us suspiciously. Half of them ogled the helpless Hunters while the other half kept their eyes on us.
“Lower your weapons,” I said.
“Then we’re as good as dead,” Flush said.
“Lower them.”
Everyone did, reluctantly dropping spears and bows and arrows to their waists. Still, we gripped them tighter than ever, and in the darkness I could make out the whites of my friends’ knuckles. What I couldn’t see was how the wolves were reacting.
I was now mere feet from them.
The biggest of the wolves—clearly the alpha male—had edged his way around the circle so that he stood directly in my path. His snout sported a diamond-shaped tuft of white, and the husky growl that rumbled from his throat vibrated through my body.
I came to a halt when I was only a yard away from him.
“There’s no need to go for us,” I whispered to the wolf. “There’s more than enough food right back there. And they’re unarmed.” I gestured to my weapon as though he could understand.
I can’t say he got my words, but he stared me up and down, his eyes darting from my face to my weapon to the prisoners tied up behind us. After what seemed an eternity, he shuffled to one side. The wolves behind him did as well, creating a narrow passageway for us.
“Go,” I said to Flush, who was right behind me. “Lead the others away from here.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
“In a bit.”
I stood there and made sure all the LTs and Sisters got through. I had no more reason to trust the wolves than I did the Hunters, and I needed to see that all of us made it out alive. As Hope passed, her hand accidentally brushed against mine. What surprised me was that even though our lives were in the balance, I felt a shudder of something when her skin touched mine. Recognition? Remembrance? Pleasure?
When the last Sister shuffled through, the alpha male and I made eye contact for a final time . . . and then I hurried to catch up with the others. As soon as I moved away from them, the wolves stepped back in place, completing their circle.
“Don’t leave us here!” I heard the Man in Orange cry out. “Please!”
Shoulda thought of that when you were attacking unarmed Less Thans, I wanted to say.
Maybe what happened next wouldn’t have happened in pre-Omega times. But as Frank had told us, wolves were different now. I turned around and watched as they edged closer to the Hunters, who were now yanking at the ropes and crying out in terror. I would have felt compassion for them . . . if I hadn’t remembered everything I’d seen them do.
The attack happened in the blink of an eye. Even as the alpha male was in the air, leaping toward the squirming figure of the Man in Orange, the other wolves were right behind. They pounced on the prisoners in a choreography that was both beautiful and awful.
The Hunters’ screams filled the night—a haunting sound that pierced my ears. But louder even than their screams were the snarls of wolves feasting on prey. Human bodies being ripped apart, bits of flesh and skin gobbled down. The wolves were desperate for food, and they wasted no time devouring the human meat.
“Keep moving,” I whispered to the other LTs, who’d also stopped to look.
We scrambled out of there, slogging through snow in the dead of night, moving faster than we ever had. The sight—and sound—of those wolves devouring the Hunters gave us all the incentive we needed. Some of the other LTs and Sisters offered words of congratulations.
“Nice job, Book.” “Good thinking back there.” “We owe you, man.”
Some slapped me on the back; a couple shook my hand.
Hope said absolutely nothing.
So apparently the Man in Orange was right. I was wasting my time.