There are recreation areas dotted throughout these mountains, but I don’t let the kids light a fire. There’s no reason to test fate with a smoke trail. It’s going to be a cold night, but the blankets Ruben provided should be enough to keep us warm.
I walk around the kids, assessing their health after our long, intense day.
“You’re both scratched up from our walk through the woods. There’s hydrogen peroxide and gauze in one of the backpacks.”
“On it,” Junebug says.
She grabs the backpack and brings it over.
“You’ve got blood on your shirt,” she tells Chance. “Take it off so I can clean you up.”
“Take off my shirt?”
“Are you embarrassed?”
Chance shivers and looks down. “Of course not. It’s just a little cold out.”
She rolls her eyes. “Pretend I’m your sister.”
He pulls off his shirt, and she dabs at him with the hydrogen peroxide.
I leave them alone and finish setting up the campsite. I pull our bedding into a tight circle, and I walk the area, scanning for any vulnerabilities I might have missed.
“I’ll fix your phone tomorrow,” I hear Junebug saying. “I can use parts from one of the flashlights if I need to.”
“You know how to do everything,” Chance says admiringly.
“Not everything.”
“A lot more than me. I’m pretty useless at most things, really.”
“You’re good at taking care of Wild.”
I smile inwardly as I think of Chance bringing me home the first night, risking a lot to sneak a stray dog into his room.
“We sort of take care of each other,” Chance says.
“I know how to do things because my dad’s a fanatic. He forced me to learn all this stuff so I’d be ready for anything.”
“At least he cares,” Chance says quietly.
“Your dad doesn’t care?”
“I don’t even know my dad.”
“What about your mom?” she asks.
“She has a lot of problems. It makes it hard for her to care as much as she wants to.”
I stand in the wind, letting the scents roll up the mountain. I smell pine, earth, and the musty odor of foliage rotting on the forest floor.
I’ve smelled these things before, I realize.
“My turn to get cleaned up,” Junebug says back at camp. I hear the sound of fabric rustling as she pulls off her shirt.
“Oh my gosh,” Chance says.
“What’s the big deal? I’m wearing a sports bra. It’s just like a bathing suit.”
“A bathing suit. Right. What’s the big deal?” Chance says, but I hear the nervousness in his voice.
I step out farther from camp, leaping over and around the security perimeter laid out by Junebug. I walk to the highest point nearby and look down the slope.
Something tugs at my memory.
Have I been here before?
I try to remember, but nothing comes.
I turn back toward camp, disappointed, but knowing my job is to get the children home safely before I focus on myself.
The forest is silent around us, which leads me to think we’re okay, at least for the night.
And in the morning?
The badge in the soldier’s pocket said he was from the Agoura Division of Animal Control. The Animal Control thing is obviously a cover, but if there’s a real base in Agoura, it might lead me to Maelstrom.
Once I get the others to safety, that’s where I’ll begin.
I head back to camp, following the sound of Chance and Junebug’s conversation.
I give out a low bark as I get closer to let them know I’m coming.
“It’s almost dark,” I say. “Let’s eat something and go to bed. We’ll get an early start tomorrow, then we’re heading back into the city to Chance’s group home.”
“We’ll discuss the details in the morning,” I say.
He wants to argue, but Junebug puts an arm around his shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” she assures him.
We eat quickly, grateful for the food Ruben packed for us. I notice the kids yawning between bites, and I sense their exhaustion from the long day we’ve had. By the time we’re done it’s pitch-black in the forest, and I have them under their blankets, a bed of dry pine needles beneath to insulate from the cold ground.
“Good night, you guys.”
“You have to sleep, too,” Chance says.
I’m as exhausted as they are, but it’s not time for me to sleep.
“I’m going to sit up and keep watch,” I tell Chance.
He smiles and rubs at his eyes, pulling the blanket up to his neck.
I walk the perimeter one last time, my nose in the wind, scanning for the scent of danger.
“Why do you call yourself Junebug?” I hear Chance whisper. “They’re ugly, aren’t they?”
“They’re super tough,” Junebug says. “They fling themselves at the light, and they don’t stop until they get where they want to go. I’m like a hacker version of a junebug.”
“Do you have a real name?”
There’s a pause, and then Junebug says, “Jasmine.”
“Good night, Jasmine.”
Jasmine. It doesn’t ring any bells for me.
“What’s your real name?” she asks him.
“You know my real name. Chance.”
“How’d you get it?”
“My mom said I was her chance for a new life.”
“It’s a cool name,” Junebug says.
“I think so, too.”
Junebug giggles appreciatively, and the conversation ends. Within minutes they’re asleep, their breathing slow and heavy. I walk back into the middle of camp where I can watch over them. I feel a powerful protective instinct swelling my chest. This is my pack now, and I will protect my pack at all costs. I briefly think of tomorrow and the separation to come, but it’s too painful to imagine, and I have to let it go.
I listen to the sound of crickets chirping in the night air. Eventually my eyes grow heavy, and I drift off to sleep.