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  The bear growled, trying to shake off the blow. Oddly human, it pawed its own ear. The boy struck again. Roared again. And though he grew paler by the moment, he did not stagger.

  Terror ran through Dara. He’d saved her and he was going to die.

  Heart wrenching wildly in her chest, she turned and searched the brush. The forest was full of sandstone: cliffs and ravines, chunks of it broken off or thrusting through the earth. It only took her a moment to find a big, sharp piece of it.

  Adrenaline coursed through her. She dragged the stone from the ground. It caught on her skin, its pocked texture unpleasant and alien. Dragging it to the edge of the ravine, she summoned her courage. Her strength. She raised the stone over her head. Its weight made her wobble.

  The first time she tried to roar, no sound came out. It was humiliating, and her skin flamed. She tried again, immediately. She opened her mouth and screamed. This time, the cry tore free. It was a raw, bloody sound. Her throat burned with it.

  At once, the boy and the bear looked up.

  Dara dropped the stone. She couldn’t help it; she cringed when it hit the bear. It was a living creature. She wasn’t accustomed to hurting things, not on purpose. But she celebrated when the beast hesitated, then fled. It galloped, a dark shadow against the forest. Trees shook in its wake. The boy, left behind, swayed on his feet.

  “Are you okay?” she called, trying to find a way off the ridge.

  Finally, she slid, rough stone tearing her jeans, pulling her hair. Halfway down, she fell the rest of the way. It was ungainly, and her knee protested. But she ignored that, running to the boy. Hands flying, she caught him, and pushed him to the ground. He was so cold. So pale.

  “Josh, help me!” she cried.

  He was right there, the last time she saw him. Pressed into the dirt, his arms over his head. Why didn’t he appear? Pulling her sweatshirt off, Dara rolled it and pressed it to the boy’s chest. As brave as he’d been facing the bear, he looked absolutely terrified now.

  Her head buzzed, like it was full of bees. A constant sound that threatened to overwhelm her. Her brain tried to break free, but nothing made sense. She had flashes, half thoughts. Bear. Boy. Dying. Help.

  “We’re going to get you some help,” she told him, then lifted her head again. “Josh!”

  The boy reached up. His cold fingers slid across her cheek, slick with blood. Grey lips parted, and he murmured, “Dara.”

  Startled, Dara jerked back. “What?”

  “You’re Dara,” the boy said. “I’m Cade.”

  And then he slipped away.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  NINE

  Nothing held back the clouds.

  Cade blinked through a haze and saw the sky. Only the sky. No trees stretching across it. No birds or cliffs. He felt untethered like the stars, floating in a vast expanse of nothing. Then the ground jolted beneath him, and there was pain. Weight. Across his hips and his chest.

  Dara leaned over him, blotting out the sky. Her eyes were green.

  “You’re awake!”

  His dry lips cracked, and he moaned when the ground jolted again.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  This time, he managed to speak. “For what?”

  She shifted, her eyes darting but her hands sure. She straddled his hips, holding him down. And she kept her weight on a bundle of cloth on his chest. His heart struggled beneath it. It hurt. But she didn’t move, even though the wind tore at her. Her hair was a whip, snapping around her face. “He’s being as careful as he can.”

  Something roared beneath them. Cade gasped when gravity shifted. It pulled them to one side. His stomach turned. It was hard to focus, so he reached out. Catching Dara’s arm, it confused him when his fingers wouldn’t tighten. “What’s happening?”

  Dara looked at him again. She knit her brows, her expression softening along with her voice. “Do you remember getting hurt?”

  With a croaking laugh, Cade winced. “Hard to forget a fight with a black bear.”

  “We’re taking you to the ranger station. They can land a helicopter there. You’re going to be okay.”

  Fear slipped through Cade. He remembered his father saying that once, but it was a lie. They’d stood over his mother’s body, her color turned to ash. Her skin cold, her body stiff. They dug her grave together, beneath the tree with all the trumpet vines. The dried bushclover wavered in the wind, and it was not okay.

  Even though they’d wrapped her in furs to keep her warm, he couldn’t bring himself to cover her with earth. He grabbed the lowest branch of the scarlet oak, and climbed. Climbed until the tree was slender and dangerous, until he could see the bare sky. There, he howled until his voice gave out. It was not okay.

  Dara touched his cheek, startling him. Her hair washed around her face again, gold and tipped in blood. His blood. Worry creased her brow, and she pressed harder on his chest. “Talk to me. Kay, you said your name is Kay?”

  He floated, inside his head. All of a sudden, she felt very far away. The pain a distant ache. Flexing his fingers once more, he caught her coat sleeve. His grip was weak, but the red plaid between his fingers was real. “Cade.”

  “Cade what? What’s your last name?”

  Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. He snapped them open again when she patted his cheek, hard. “How many people are left?”

  “What?”

  Cade struggled to shape his mouth. It felt like the words were slipping away, his thoughts, too. Haze filmed across his sight. Drifting again, a pleasant warmth surrounded him. Then Dara’s sharp hand on his cheek wrenched it away. “In the world.”

  Surprised, Dara laughed in disbelief. Looking up, around, she shook her head then said, “I don’t know. Seven billion?”

  That was a lie. Throat closing, Cade shivered. It started on his skin, then dove into his bones. His jaw clenched then spasmed, teeth rattling together. Before he could ask more, she unzipped her coat and sank down to cover him. She lay across the bundle on his chest, pressing it down with her weight.

  Curling her arms around his head, she pressed her hot brow to his temple. She breathed on him, hot breath skating his skin. His flesh welcomed the warmth, but inwardly, he recoiled. Voice thin and panicked, he asked, “Are you immune?”

  “Shh,” she said. She stroked his head. Her voice was soft and low. “I think you’re in shock. Let’s talk about . . . I don’t know. Let’s talk about something happy. Do you have a happy place? Mine is mostly in my head. An imaginary darkroom. Nobody uses them anymore, not really. But I like to think about the process.”

  Breath draining, Cade drifted again. “I don’t know what a darkroom is.”

  “That’s okay. That’s just mine. What’s yours?”

  Her breath kissed his jaw. Skimmed the corner of his mouth. Slowly, he relaxed, but his thoughts stayed close. “The bee hollow.”

  “That sounds nice,” she said. “Tell me about it.”

  In the dark, beneath her warmth and weight, Cade pictured it. He breathed and tasted the sweetness of the air. He saw the shapes of the trees, their trunks twisting and elegant. Their branches twining together overhead. Their bellies full of honeycomb, bees dancing with them in clouds.

  “Still with me?” Dara asked.

  Cade nodded. “I’m there. In the summer, you can drill a hole. The honey drips out. Not too much, I don’t want to ruin the hive. Just a mouthful, and there’s an apple tree that fruits early. Apples and honey by the falls.”

  “Do you swim?” Dara asked.

  “Sometimes.”

  Gravity shifted again. She tightened around him, but their smooth flight turned rough. They shook and bounced, little shocks knocking them together. She raised her head to look at him, apologetic. “Gravel road, sorry.”

  Before he could answer, the sky turned dark again. A white helicopter swept over t
hem. Its propellers looked like hummingbird wings: moving, but not moving. Cade had seen one, once. At a distance. He hadn’t realized how loud they were. It was an inverted rumble, the sound of stone on stone underwater.

  Dara choked up, a sob of relief. “They beat us here. You really are going to be okay.”

  Cold swept in when she sat up. It burned, vicious like fire. Suddenly, the motion stopped, and she climbed off of him. Dropping his hand on the bundle on his chest, she promised him it would be all right again. Then she stood, she jumped over a wall he’d just now noticed, and disappeared.

  Too tired to follow her, Cade slumped. The voices in the distance tangled to noise, so Cade didn’t try to listen. Instead, he closed his eyes and lingered in the memory of her body on his. She’d left traces behind. All the sweetness and strange flowers on her skin perfumed his now.

  His struggling heart thrummed.

  Shoving her hands in her pockets, Dara made herself stand back.

  The paramedics were in charge now. They’d swarmed Josh’s truck. With all their weight in it, the tailgate dangled perilously close to the ground. They’d carried their huge kits over on the stretcher, because it wouldn’t roll on the gravel.

  Now they moved purposefully. Slowly. It bothered Dara that they didn’t run over, barking out orders. They didn’t flash or hurry. They had to know how serious this was. Why weren’t they acting like it? Her grandmother would have said they were taking their own sweet time.

  “Did you get any information from him?” one of the paramedics asked her, interrupting her worried thoughts.

  His name tag said Raheed, and he had the kindest face. Maybe that was his job, she mused. To be calm and kind, to get information out of hysterical people. But she wasn’t hysterical in the least, just concerned. Dragging her gaze away from the truck, she shook her head, then nodded. “His name is Cade. Um . . . He likes honey.”

  “Great,” Raheed said, actually typing that into his tablet. “Does he have a last name? Is he allergic to anything?”

  “No. I don’t know.”

  Raheed put a gentle hand on her shoulder. At first, she didn’t know why. Then she realized she was crying. Not great, heaving sobs or anything. She didn’t feel sad. Just swallowed up and shaking everywhere. His blood was so dark and she was soaked with it. Their camp had seemed so safe. Infested with raccoons, but safe.

  What would have happened if Cade hadn’t come out of nowhere? She and Josh would be dead. Missing and dead. Sofia knew where they were, but no one else did. There wouldn’t have been anything left to find. Just their tents and their stuff, abandoned. No one would have ever known . . .

  But Cade had come out of nowhere. And now he was bleeding to death in the back of Josh’s truck.

  “Why are they going so slow?” she asked, swiping her face dry.

  Raheed’s tone never changed. He was calm, smooth. “So they don’t make any mistakes.”

  That made so much sense. And it started the tears again. It was awful, there was nothing wrong with her. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t control herself. Inwardly, she told herself she was fine, and to stop. But that only made it worse.

  “Hey, Dara,” Raheed said. He clipped his tablet to a carabiner on his belt, and put his other hand on her shoulder. Squaring her gently, he leaned down to make eye contact. “You did a good job. You got him here, he’s going to be okay.”

  Her chest hitched when she took a deep breath. It was hard to believe him. She’d told Cade the exact same thing, not because she knew. Because he was upset. He was slipping away from her. He’d needed to hear it.

  She swabbed at her face again, embarrassed. “I’m all right. I’m fine. Sorry.”

  Giving her a gentle shake, Raheed stepped back. “No need to apologize. You’ve had a crazy day. But did he say anything else to you? Anything that might help us take care of him?”

  Shuddering with another breath, Dara shook her head. He hadn’t said much of anything, not really. Nothing helpful. But the question dug into her brain. It twisted around, obvious and present. Then suddenly, she remembered. “He asked if I was immune.”

  Concern crossed Raheed’s brow. The tablet came off the carabiner again, and his fingers danced across its screen. “Did he say to what?”

  “No,” she said. She turned when the truck’s shocks protested.

  They’d hefted the gurney from the bed. Strapped to it, Cade looked so small and helpless. His strange clothes littered the ground, furs and leathers all cut and bloodstained. The flight nurse held an IV bag over her head, and leaned close to Cade, to listen to him.

  Raheed tapped the screen again. “There’s an ambulance on the way. You and your boyfriend need to wait for it, all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Dara watched the gurney, following it anxiously.

  “How about you let the docs decide that?” Raheed said, gentle but firm. “They’re gonna want to check you out. Probably give you some medicine in case he has HIV. You can’t be too careful when you’re dealing with somebody else’s blood.”

  The flight nurse maneuvered with the gurney, then called out, “Hey! Dara! Come here!”

  Adrenaline surged through Dara, flavored with fear. She couldn’t think of a good reason for the nurse to call her. Leaving Raheed behind, she jogged across the lot. She wasn’t ready for the shock. It had been terrible, seeing him struck. Sitting on him, trying to stanch the blood. Trying to keep him alive.

  But seeing Cade wrapped in pristine white sheets made it worse. He seemed so much sicker. The bandage on his chest was already striped with blood. She recoiled when she realized his eyes were closed, and his face was impossibly smooth. Was he dead? Would they really make her look at him like that?

  “Tell this boy,” the nurse said, demanding Dara’s attention, “that you can’t go with him, but you’re going to see him at the hospital.”

  Dara slipped her hand through the bars to touch his hand. “Cade?”

  His eyelashes flickered. “There you are.”

  The nurse shot Dara a meaningful look. One that told her to get on with it.

  “You need to go with them,” Dara said. She curled her fingers around his, then added quickly, “They’re going to take me to the hospital, too, so I’ll see you there. I’ll be there, all right?”

  Wincing, Cade squeezed her fingers, a touch barely perceptible. “Swear it.”

  “I swear.”

  His touch fell away. “Okay.”

  “On three,” the nurse said. She shouldered Dara out of the way, filling the space where she’d just stood. “We’re going up. One. Two . . .”

  Josh’s hands spread on her shoulders. She recognized his touch. She leaned into him, the familiar shape of his body, but didn’t look back. She had to concentrate on the helicopter. It was wishful thinking, a prayer made up on the spot. If she watched until they took Cade away, he would be all right. Her heart pounded as the paramedics signaled the pilot.

  Come on, come on, come on, she pled.

  Just then, Cade lifted his head and looked. For her. Dara knew it was for her. Because as soon as his gaze met hers, he settled. And he watched her until the white doors closed between them.

  Josh led her away. Gently, he repeated, “He’s going to be okay.”

  “I know,” Dara said, and looked back one last time.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  TEN

  Everybody talked about how clean hospitals smelled. Twitching at the end of her bed, Dara picked at the plastic bracelet around her wrist. After nearly a week in the woods, she could still smell sweat and Cade’s blood—even though they traded her a blue hospital gown for her ruined clothes—and smoke. The smoke clung to her hair.

  But just beyond her own skin, everything was tangy and chemical. Alcohol, hand sanitizer, filtered air. Soap on the gown and even the plastic of the trays and tools and machi
nes around her. A few curtains away, someone had a tray of food. It wasn’t identifiable as one single thing. It was just a mishmash, hot, meaty, starchy.

  The hospital didn’t smell clean, it smelled industrial.

  It was loud, too. Even with people keeping their voices low, there were just so many of them. A baby cried; a nurse tried to trade an overnight shift with someone else. A doctor—it sounded like a doctor—kept complaining that her attending had pulled a vanishing act on her. Dara didn’t know what that meant, but she recognized irritation when she heard it.

  Then, heavy footfalls approached. A jingle of keys, a certain sway in the step. Before the curtain opened, she knew exactly who it was. Making sure her robe was pulled all the way closed, Dara wrapped her arms around herself. She took a deep breath and when the curtain opened, she forced a smile.

  “Hey Daddy.”

  He was in uniform. Of course he was. His beige tie was tucked into the crisp chocolate-brown shirt. Gold pips glittered on his epaulets, competing with the gleam of his badge and commendation pins. The gun belt crossed his waist heavily, and his radio hung from it, silenced. At least for the moment. When EMTs brought the county sheriff’s daughter in, he was allowed to ignore everything else for a while.

  Sheriff Porter clasped her face in his hands. He was a cop, he had a good poker face. But even he couldn’t hide his relief when he looked her over. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your mother’s going out of her mind,” he said, taking a step back. Smoothing a hand over his head, he seemed to be at a loss. Like he had been prepared to be devastated, except she was just fine. Tired. Still hungry. A lot shaken up, but fine. When he finally recovered, he asked her incredulously, “Why aren’t you in Florida?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question, Dara. What’s is going on?”

  Suddenly tearful, Dara swallowed hard. “We just, Josh and I wanted some time alone, it’s—”

  “I shoulda known this was Josh’s idea.”