Within These Walls

Chapter 10

I toss and turn most of the night and give up on sleep early in the morning. The block is quiet and dark. The bathroom is empty when I walk into it. I don't allow myself to linger. I shower quickly, rub myself dry, and change into clean clothes. It takes me a few more minutes to brush my teeth, but all I can think about is the bracelet, like a bomb attached to my wrist, capable of going off at any moment.

Gathering my stuff into a bundle, I leave the bathroom and run into a broad chest. I almost drop my stuff before I realize it's not one of the people who took Baxter.

Fear dims into wariness. Marcus isn't a much better alternative.

"Excuse me," I mutter.

"Not much of a morning person, are you?"

I try to slip past him, but he sidesteps into my path. The bathroom light floods over his body, lighting up his face.

His amused smile.

I scowl at him. "What do you want?"

"What do I want? To get out of this place. Hell, I wouldn't mind a cheeseburger at this point, but we can't always have what we want."

I tighten my arms around my load. "Look, I want to be ready for when the alarm goes off, so I'd like to return to my room. Please move out of my way."

"Sure, I'll move out of your way. Soon as I figure out who you are." My breath hitches when he steps closer. "Are you the girl who watched Knobby get dragged away without any fear on her face? Or the one who ran off when I said a few...harmless words yesterday morning? Seems like someone's hiding something."

My heart is thudding somewhere in my throat. I swallow it back down. "I could say the same thing about you."

I immediately regret my words, but it's too late. Marcus's smile has disappeared.

"What does that mean?" he asks.

"Nothing. Forget it."

I brush past him, but he grabs my arm. "You don't get to say something like that and walk away. Tell me what you meant."

If I were looking for a fight or trying to psych him out, I'd point out what I've observed about him so far. How he's loud and angry when others are around, but he's quieter, more cunning than crass, when it's just the two of us. It's like he puts on a show for other people.

He might not realize he's doing it. Or maybe it hasn't crossed his mind I might pick up on it. Either way, I keep this knowledge to myself. For once, it gives me an advantage.

I tug myself free. "You're being paranoid. I didn't mean anything by it."

I run off before he can stop me. Back in my room, I grab a pair of white sneakers on one side of the dresser—they fit perfectly—and crawl into bed. I'm ready. Tension dances under my skin and teases the air out of my lungs. It's impossible to go back to sleep when I don't know what the future holds. What that timer means.

I exhale. What's going on, Sam?

"April?"

I turn my head toward Camille. In the darkness of early morning comes her faint breathing.

"Yes?" I say when she doesn't continue.

"Do you think they'll hurt us?"

Camille strikes me as one of those perfect popular types, the ones who walk around like queens, hair glossy and face done up with just the right amount of makeup. A few days ago, she was probably having a blast with her friends, eking out whatever was left of summer. If she hadn't ended up here, she'd be trying to make the best of life. She's my opposite in everything except a shared fear of the unknown.