Within These Walls

Chapter 5

I wind up in the shower room a short trip down the hallway. It's a big room with sinks down one wall and at least ten stalls lining another. The slate-gray vinyl tiles are pristine, just like everything else in this place.

I want to sit in a corner of the bathroom and breathe through my anxiety, but I can't let myself crack apart like that. I go over to one of the sinks and turn on the faucet. The water is freezing. I splash my face, trying to wash away the taint of a nightmare lingering on my skin.

When I look up into the mirror, I see a girl with pale blue eyes staring back at me. Dead eyes. I squeeze them shut and open them again. They're a little better, but it's not enough.

Try harder.

That's what Sam would say if he could see me now. He'd stand over me, cruelty on his face, and he'd force me to pretend to be better. Tougher. To hold myself together.

"April?" Willow says, appearing at the doorway. Her eyes flit around the shower room and take in everything. They return to my face, loaded with concern. "Are you okay?"

I massage the stinging burn on my wrist, taking deep and even breaths like Sam taught me. "I'm fine. Did I miss anything while I was gone?"

"No." Her eyes are intent on my face. She knows I'm brushing off her concern, but she seems to understand that I want her to drop it: her gaze moves over to the row of mirrors next to us. "Is it crazy I'm glad to be here in instead of at home?"

I study her face as she inspects her reflection and smooths one hand over her ponytail. "It depends on what the alternative is."

"I've spent my whole life being told what to do and how to live my life. It's nice to have some time to myself without someone looking over my shoulder."

"Parents?" I ask.

She laughs. "Who else? Marcus is an idiot by the way. I think I know why he keeps picking on you."

I stiffen. "You do?"

"He feels threatened by you. You're smart and you know how to get people to listen to you. Marcus wants absolute power. You're in the way of that."

I let her words sink in. All his sneers, those implied threats. Could it be because he thinks I'm challenging him?

"Now that you know, it should be easier to stay out of his way."

"Thanks." I return her smile. "It's nice to know someone's got my back."

She nods. "Now come on. Let's get back before we miss out on too much."

Something's different. I feel it even before we enter the cafeteria. It's too quiet. The kids have congregated around the TV closest to the stairs, its screen blank. No, not completely black. I see the white-lettered writing on the screen closest to me.

05:19:11

"What's this?" Willow asks the guy near us.

"A timer," the kid replies. "The last two numbers keep changing."

"Five days, nineteen hours, and eleven minutes," I say to no one. If nothing else, this means we'll be stuck in here for almost another week.

"April!"

Alec is waving me over to his group on the other side of the cafeteria. Marcus sits at the same table, arms crossed over his chest. He turns to me when Alec calls out, and his eyes narrow.

I give Alec a half-hearted wave and turn my back to him. He hasn't done anything to deserve the cold shoulder, but Willow is right. I should keep a low profile and stay out of Marcus's way. He'll get bored and be forced to move on to someone else.

Unfortunately for them.

"Hmm," Willow says. "I think he likes you."

"Marcus?" I ask, startled.

"Alec."

I glance back over my shoulder. "We barely know each other."

"Maybe he likes what he sees so far." She pulls on her ponytail with her thumb and index finger. "You have a boyfriend back home?"

I almost laugh. Not quite. No guy has come anywhere near me since Brody in tenth grade asked me out in front of his friends. I hurried past him, too embarrassed to answer. He spray-painted bitch on my locker the next day.

"No," I answer.

"I broke up with my boyfriend over the summer." Willow pauses. "He cheated on me."

My gaze whips back to her face. "I'm sorry. That must have been hard for you."

"He's been trying to convince me to give us another chance." She shrugs. "Maybe it's for the best that I'm stuck in here. I was close to caving in."

"Distance is a good thing," I agree awkwardly. "It helps you set things into perspective."

"Funny," Carson drawls behind us. "We got some sort of clock counting down to something—maybe a bomb exploding—and y'all here talking about boyfriends."

He grins at us when we turn around. I've never been one to fit in with people, but it's hard not to feel at ease around Carson. He has a way of diffusing my anxiety without trying.

"Weren't you just with Alec's group?" I ask.

"The Cap told me to leave. His exact words were 'Beat it, hillbilly.' Not like I want to hang out with those guys anyway." He rests his hands on his waist and looks up at the screen. "What do you think this means?"

"Something is going to happen soon," Willow says. "This must be their way of giving us a heads-up."

"How awfully nice of them."

She sighs. "We have a week to figure it out."

"Marcus's approach was to find clues," I say. "Maybe we should be trying a different approach—maybe we hold the clues. If we can find more similarities—or connections—we might be better prepared for what we're going to face."

"Alright," Carson says. "So far, we've got two clues: most of us are from the East Coast, and we're all a pack of healthy kids. What else do we need?"

"Names and ages. Backgrounds."

He groans. "This is going to take forever."

"It's not like we have anything better to do," I reply.

As long as our takers don't throw another wrench into our lives, we have a few more days to get to know these strangers. To discover allies and potential threats. Marcus is already recruiting kids for his gang. Tough, athletic, mean, outgoing, hot: basically, the same crowd at the popular table at school.

"What do we do about Marcus?" Carson asks.

Willow worries her bottom lip. "Let me deal with him. I'll be right back."

She walks over to Marcus's table and taps his shoulder. I don't know what she tells him, but a few seconds later, he follows her to a corner of the cafeteria. I'm surprised by the smile on her face as she speaks. She's at ease, touching his forearm as she laughs.

He crosses his arms and leans back, but doesn't push her away. He almost looks uncomfortable with her.

"Any luck?" Carson asks when Willow returns.

"Kind of. He wants to run the show, but he didn't shoot down our idea."

"How did you get him to agree to that?"

She gives us a mischievous grin. "When it comes down to it, all boys are the same. They want to be treated like little princes."

"All hail Queen Willow," he says with a laugh.

Willow's expression turns serious. "Actually, he does have one condition."

She's looking at me as she says this, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"He wants something from me, doesn't he?" I ask.

"Yes. He wants you to join his group."