Without Mercy (Mercy 1)

Just before she left, Nona slipped Shaylee’s Oregon Ducks baseball cap off its hook and tucked her hair inside it. She’d done it before, using it for a disguise in case she got caught by any cameras or roving teachers. Ha-ha to Shay.

No one would consider Nona capable of breaking the rules, least of all anyone on the staff. She had them all believing that she was buying into their regimented Christian doctrine and was a conscientious student. To that end, Nona had ended up with the dubious privilege of babysitting Shaylee Stillman, a wacko if ever there was one. It was bad enough that Nona’s mom had gone out for cigarettes and never returned, but Shaylee’s stepfather had been murdered or some such shit. No wonder she was a loner!

God, Nona hated the new girl. Okay, she felt a little sorry for her, being the new kid on campus who people just pretended to like, but that was about it. Shaylee Stillman didn’t inspire friendship.

Always acting so tough, with her tattoos and bad attitude. Rumor had it she was smarter than most, but Nona had yet to see it.

In the shadowy darkness, she saw the lump that was her new roommate, head under the covers, breathing regularly, finally asleep.

Okay, it was now or never!

Without making a noise, Nona slipped out the door and sneaked down the dimly lit hall. Nerves thrumming, heart a wildly beating drum, afraid that at any second someone on the floor would open a door and catch her, she eased to the staircase.

According to the dorm gossip, this was probably the route Lauren Conway had taken the night she escaped from the school. Nona was certain that was what had happened. She left and disappeared, end of story. All of the talk about her being killed, or accidentally dying, or reports of people seeing her ghost, were just hype, a means to keep everyone else in line. If she’d really died, where the hell was her body?

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Lauren had just not wanted to return home, that she was looking for a way to escape whatever problems she had in Arizona or wherever it was that she was from. All that talk about her “wanting” to be here to become a TA was a lie. No one ever came here voluntarily. So she had disappeared and was probably in Mexico somewhere with dyed hair, tropical sunshine, and a pissant job and loving it. No more studying, no more parents with all their rules, no more lame Blue Rock Academy.

Using the beam of her wilderness flashlight, Nona slunk through the creepy basement and tried to ignore the fact that spiders and rats probably nested in the cracks and crevices. The place smelled of dust and mildew, and the constant drip from a sink near the stairs grated on her nerves.

Cautiously, she found the window she’d learned didn’t latch. Supposedly it had been fixed months ago, but the repairs had been half-assed, and it hadn’t taken long for one of the students to jimmy it loose again. Probably that awful Crystal Ricci girl with the tail of a dragon tattooed around her neck. Oh, yeah, like that was attractive! What a lowlife.

The trunk that people had used as a step had been removed, but nearby, just around the corner, was an old writing desk that had been discarded. It took no effort to move the small table and climb atop. With the tiny screwdriver that was hidden in a niche over the windowsill, she quickly popped the faulty lock and—voilà—the window creaked open.

Cold air immediately rushed inside, the snap of winter invading the musty basement as Nona crammed her flashlight into the pocket of her jacket. With gritted teeth, she gripped the sill, stuck her feet out, and propelled herself through the window to freedom.

Well, relative freedom.

Once outside, she crept over the deep, crusted snow to the path. From there she scurried ahead, keeping to the shadows, though the moon and stars were already cloaked with a thick layer of clouds. More snow was predicted, and she was sick to death of it.

She reached into her inside pocket for her cell phone, the one she’d gotten on the Blue Rock black market. Each week, when the van went into town for supplies, a few of the TAs were allowed to go on the shopping spree, and one of them was running a banner business in contraband. She’d ordered and received one of those prepaid cell phones, and it was a lifesaver.

Except it wasn’t in her pocket.

But it had to be. She was always so careful with it. If it was ever found, she’d be in big, big trouble. She patted down each of her pockets, then turned them inside out. Damn! It must’ve fallen out of her pocket, like it nearly had on the way to the barns when she was running to catch up with her friends.

Panic crawled through her guts. She couldn’t lose it. She looked back at the path she’d just taken, searching for the slim phone, but didn’t spy any small black rectangle on the snow. Nothing. Not even when she swept the beam of her flashlight quickly along the edge of the bushes where she’d hidden.

So … if it had fallen out inside, probably as she’d pushed her way through the window, she’d find it when she returned. Right?

She tried to calm down.

It would be okay.

And if it was found, it couldn’t be traced to her, not unless the school was into fingerprinting.

It wasn’t a problem.

Just an inconvenience.

And it was worth it.

Anything was.

As long as she could be with him.

CHAPTER 13

The Leader’s breath shuddered in the cold night air, disturbing the snowflakes that were falling steadily. He couldn’t sleep, was too keyed up. There was a snap in the air, a tension that fired his nerves.