I give Willow a blank stare. "He wants me to do what?"
"Join up with him and his friends," she says. "Follow whatever he says and help him maintain law and order, as he puts it."
"What is he, the new sheriff in town?" Carson says. "Next thing you know, he'll be putting up wanted posters and rounding up outlaws."
"You want to try doing something about it?" Willow teases.
"Nah. Think I'll stick to shooting off my mouth when he's not around."
What does Marcus hope to gain from having me in his group? I would think he's following the old keep-your-enemies-close adage, but he doesn't strike me as the type to play at politics. Marcus is more likely to handle conflict with his fists.
The only other reason he'd want me on his team is because he plans something for me. Payback for standing up to him.
Avoid, my protective instinct shouts at me. Avoid Marcus and his newfound buddies and all complications that could come out of associating with them. Pretend they don't exist. Just like I've pretended all my other problems don't exist.
"What are you going to do?" Carson asks me.
"Nothing. I'm going to wait until Marcus forgets about me."
Willow frowns. "Should we hold off on gathering intel?"
"No. You go ahead. I think it will be better if I keep my head down." I shrug and fumble for a better reason. "He might take it out on you guys if I get involved. I don't want to be responsible for you getting hurt."
"Okay." Willow drags out the word. "Carson, let's report to Captain Sherriff and run our ideas by him. We'll talk to you later, April?"
I watch them zigzag across the cafeteria, my jaw tight. It's just as well. Willow and Carson seem like good kids, but I've never done well with people. Sam saw to that. The last time I tried to get close to someone was in fifth grade when a girl my age moved in to my neighborhood. We bonded over boy bands and the extensive collection of clothes and shoes in her closet. We hung out at her house for two days before rumors about my scary stepfather got to her family. She stopped answering the door after that.
More than six years later, Julie is one of the popular girls at school, and I'm the freak who almost killed herself in junior year.
I find a table far away from Marcus and spend the next few hours observing everything. The kids wander around the facility. Even though the initial fear has died down, most of their faces are still somber. Wary. This isn't fun at camp. This is something unknown and possibly dangerous, and everyone is too busy trying to make sense of it to let their guards down.
Except Marcus's group. They're loud and obnoxious, roughhousing and laughing like they know something we don't. I guess everyone else finds that intimidating because they skirt around them like they're afraid they'll step on sacred ground and spontaneously combust.
Willow and Carson make their rounds for a couple of hours until an unexpected smell distracts me. Food. There has been movement in the kitchen's direction, but a lot of it involved Marcus charging up and down the hallways. I didn't think it was wise to check it out.
Now he's back at his table, so I give in to my curiosity and head for the kitchen. I don't get far. The serving table has been moved into the hallway, blocking the path to the kitchen. A big kid stands behind it, bulky arms crossed and bushy eyebrows gathered over his eyes.
"Turn around. You're not allowed back here."
"Did Marcus put you up to this?" I ask. There's a flurry of activity behind him. Something is sizzling on the stove. My mouth waters at the smell of frying food.
He glares at me. I sigh and think to myself that he's taking his job way too seriously.
When I get back to my table, Willow and Carson are with a group gathered on the stairs. They've done all the tables except Marcus's. He hasn't acknowledged them since Willow spoke with him. He hasn't looked my way either.
A small group of kids squeezes past my table. One of them cracks a joke—something about how the stalls in the shower room will get a lot of action unless our kidnappers set some boundaries—and a girl giggles. They disappear to the other side of the cafeteria.
I've seen this scene whenever the new school year starts. Strangers meeting and hitting it off, establishing the beginnings of new friendships. I've always wondered if I lack this openness because Sam never gave me a chance to be normal or because something innate in me simply fumbles and fails to connect with people.
It's worse in this place. I'm used to being on the outside looking in, but at least I had something to keep me busy. I got straight A's. Stayed out of trouble. Went jogging or took a trip to the local gym, as per Sam's instructions. Fixed dinner for him in the evening and kept my head buried in a textbook until he flipped off the news and trudged up the stairs to bed.
If things went well, which usually meant Sam was too busy to bother with me, I would have the freedom to go to the park: ride on bike trails or soak in the sun while taking in the scenic view of mountains and river. Now I don't have that view or exercise to keep me busy, and the feeling of being directionless is like a worm crawling through my veins.
"Bad thoughts?"
I tense and look up at Alec. He gives me a smile. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"You didn't," I snap, then press my lips together. He's just making polite talk. I doubt he really thinks I'm scared of him. Don't get upset over stupid crap.
Alec gestures to a plastic bowl and a cup he placed on the table. He pushes the bowl my way. "I saw you trying to get into the kitchen. Figured you were hungry."
"You didn't have to do that," I say, both touched and disconcerted.
"Don't thank me just yet," he replies. "Maybe I'm using you to make sure those dumbasses in the kitchen didn't poison us by accident."
I look down at the mess of white, clumpy rice, slimy chicken cubes, and what looks like mashed broccoli and carrot. I pick up the plastic fork and take a tentative bite of the rice. My mouth twists into a grimace. "I don't know how something can be bland and spicy at the same time."
Alec's green eyes twinkle when he laughs. They're a deep shade of green, like malachite. People always seem unnerved by my eyes. I'd bet his unnerve people, too. Only instead of giving them the creeps, they probably can't stop staring into them.
I look down and busy myself with another bite.
"Willow says you don't want to join us," he says.
"My mom always warned me about gangs."
He leans back and grins again. "Don't let them scare you off. They're trying to look tough so no one will know they're all pissing their pants. Even Marcus."
"Why did he ask me to join his gang? I would think it's the last place he'd want me."
"I asked him to."
"Why?"
"Marcus gathered all the meatheads together. I wanted someone different." Alec shrugs. "You seem like a good choice. Something tells me you'll be fun to have around."
If that's his conclusion after the last few hours, he's sorely mistaken.
I look over his shoulder at Willow. She's at Marcus's table now, talking with the muscled guy across from her. Another one stands by her chair, his hip pressed against the edge of the table and his body angled toward her. He's the tallest guy I've seen in this place, wide-shouldered and built like a linebacker beneath his white t-shirt. Dark straight hair reaches past his pierced ears and falls over his forehead. He's smirking down at Willow.
Her stiff shoulders speak volumes. She doesn't like the attention.
"Who's he?" I ask. "The guy next to Willow?"
Alec glances over his shoulder. His smile has faded when he looks back. "Eli."
The word is heavy with loathing. I can't imagine what this boy has done in a few hours to warrant such a reaction, but I'm wary of him, too.
"What's Marcus up to?" I ask.
"World domination."
When I give him a look, he adds, "He's assigned jobs to people so far. A few kids picked for kitchen duty. Four of the bigger guys in charge of maintaining order. And we've got that one dude playing bouncer in front of the kitchen. Marcus also asked everyone to act as spies and report everything to him."
He is a dictator. "What do you think about him?"
Alec shrugs. "Not the most level-headed guy around, but we need strong people in charge."
I didn't expect Alec to challenge Marcus, but I thought he'd see the threat. Maybe they're more alike than I thought.
"You said you're from Pennsylvania?' he asks.
I nod as I scoop rice onto my fork.
"Which part?"
"Think capital of Pennsylvania."
"Wait—wait. I know this." He closes his eyes and the space between his eyebrows creases. His eyes pop open. "Bismarck."
"Not even close," I say with a laugh.
"Phoenix? Trenton? Des Moines?" He lets out a long, weary sigh. "Put me out of my misery and give me the answer already."
"Harrisburg. And with the way you were rattling off names just now, something tells me you're not as bad at geography as you'd like me to believe."
Alec laughs. "Yeah, well, let's keep that between us. Girls don't go for the studious type. They'd rather drool over bad boys who'd break their hearts in a second."
"Like Marcus?" I ask. The three girls in his close vicinity are very much close to doing just that.
He snorts. "Exactly."
"So . . . you like to study?" I ask him. He sure as heck doesn't look like one.
"I like to read. Mostly boring science-y stuff. So what's home like?" Alec holds up a large hand with long and tapered fingers. "Don't tell me. A nice house in a quiet neighborhood. White picket fence. Your dad works a lot, but your mom is always home baking cookies and handing out lemonade to your friends when they come around. Am I close?"
My smile has disappeared by the time he's done. I nudge my chin in Marcus's direction. "Shouldn't you get back to your friends?"
"Come with me."
My gaze falters, and I look down at the table. I steel myself and look back at him. "Listen, Alec, I don't know you any more than you know me. This isn't a high school party, and you're not picking up some chick for a good time. This is—I don't know what it is, but we have bigger things to worry about than whatever you think will happen between us. Because nothing will happen. I'm really not interested."
He raises his eyebrows. I watch him warily.
"Actually," he says, "I thought you'd want to know what your friends have found out by now. You've been glancing at them every few seconds since I sat here."
"Oh." I fumble for words, but I can't do anything except sit there and let a flame spread across my face. Now he probably thinks I'm vain for assuming he's interested in me. "Do you think Marcus will mind?"
Alec chuckles as he stands up. "He didn't expect you to accept his offer. Actually, he was probably betting you wouldn't."
"Why?" I ask, falling in step with him.
"I pointed out some reasons why recruiting you would be in his best interest. Reasons good enough he'd look petty if he said no."
"So he made me turn him down." I'm annoyed but also impressed. "For a dumb brute, he seems to have some higher cognitive abilities."
Alec gives me a sidelong glance. "You talk about him a lot. That'd make a guy jealous."
"Do you want me to call you a dumb brute, too?"
"I don't mind." He gives me another one of his trademark grins. "Because I know you wouldn't mean it."
I can't be imagining his flirty tone this time. I hurry to avoid having to answer him. Willow gives me a tight smile when we reach her. The Eli guy still hasn't moved from her side. This close, I can see the steel barbell in his eyebrow and the darkness in his eyes.
Carson isn't faring much better. He sits a couple of chairs to her right, two other guys on either side of him. One of them has his hand around his nape.
"Captain!" the other calls out to Marcus. Marcus is at the other end of the table, feet propped up on the edge. "Think we can keep this one? He's got the funniest hick accent."
"I want to talk to you," I say to Willow and Carson.
Carson tries to stand, but the dark-haired guy next to him doesn't remove his hand from his neck. He has a thick brow ridge and a big nose flared with disdain. Not the most attractive guy I've seen, nor the kindest-looking.
"Your boy is our pet now," he says. "He stays."
"Hey, I'm not here for y'all to—"
He leans down close to Carson's face. "Either you're funny or you're pissing me off. What'll it be, Hillbilly?"
"Leave him alone." I grab the bully's arm and wrench it away. Don't get involved, cautions the ever-present voice, but I can't sit by and watch Carson get pushed around. He's too good for these clowns.
The bully turns to me. "What the hell is your problem?"
"He's not here to entertain you," I say. "He came to do an important job that's going to help us all. And you're in the way of that."
In a quick move, he winds one arm around my waist and jerks me against his chest. "You taking his place, baby? Because that's one trade-off I'd be more than happy to accept."
His friends laugh. So do some of the girls, including my roommate. I haven't seen much of her since we left the block, but here she is, smiling like this guy is anything less than a creep.
I try to pull free, but his grip is too strong. A familiar feeling of panic rises to my throat. "Let me go."
"Yeah, let her go, man," Alec says as he steps up next to us. He places a hand on Big-nose's forearm. "She's off-limits."
"Stay out of this. It's obvious she wants—urgh!" He clutches his face and staggers back.
Marcus shoves past me. "I ask you to keep things under control and this is what you do instead? Keep your goddamned hands to yourself."
"Whatever, man." His nose is bright-red now, calling more attention to itself.
"Get outta here," Marcus barks at Carson. "I'm tired of looking at your stupid face. And I'd suggest you do the same, Frizz."
"Gladly." Willow glances at me as she and Carson get up. "Come on, April. I'll fill you in. You'll want to hear this."
I step after them when a hand grabs my wrist. I'm face-to-face with Marcus again, staring up at his dark eyes brewing with anger.
Crap.
"You and I are going to have a word, Rose."