Shadowlands (Shadowlands 1)

“I guess that means I don’t have to take my bio final,” my sister said with a smile.

My dad glared at her. “We’ll have your school drop off all your homework.”

Darcy visibly sagged, but I barely registered any of it. Suddenly, I was back in those woods, running for my life, feeling Nell breathing down my neck while Messenger’s words echoed in my head, over and over.

Not safe. Not safe. Not safe.

“You’ll catch him, though, right?” I said urgently, finally finding my voice. “I mean, with all those cops and everything looking for him…there’s no way he’s going to get away.”

“I wish it had happened some other way, Rory, but this was exactly the break we needed.” Messenger placed a reassuring hand on my arm, her dark eyes locking on mine. “With any luck, we’ll have him by the end of the night.”

“What do you mean, you still haven’t found him?” my dad demanded.

“I’m sorry. We suspect he’s still in town, but he’s gone underground,” Messenger said wearily. Her black pants sagged around her narrow hips. “I promise we’re doing our best. It’s just a little bit of a waiting game.”

Waiting. That was all we ever did anymore. Seven full days had passed and here we were again, gathered in the living room, listening to Messenger tell us exactly nothing. I leaned my head on the back of the couch and looked up at the ceiling, staring at the crack I’d been studying all week long. It had actually gotten longer since last Friday, snaking its way from the corner near the front door all the way to the center of the room. Next to me, Darcy’s silver-polished nails stopped clacking on her laptop’s keyboard.

“So, wait,” she said, slapping the computer closed and standing up. “You’re telling me we still can’t leave?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you,” Messenger replied, rubbing her forehead.

“No. No way,” Darcy snapped. “Tonight is Becky Mazrow’s graduation party. I’ve only been looking forward to it all year. There’s no way I’m going to sit here watching the Kardashians on my computer while everyone in my class is there.”

“Darcy,” my father said impatiently.

“What?” She raised her shoulders. “They can send me with a security detail or something,” she said, looking at Agent Messenger. “Their inepticy is the reason we’re holed up here like some family of fugitives.”

“Inepticy isn’t a word,” I said quietly.

Darcy ignored me.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s top on Uncle Sam’s priority list,” Messenger replied.

“I don’t believe this! You said you were going to catch him ‘tonight,’” Darcy cried, throwing in some air quotes. “That was a week ago!”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Sorry for what? Sucking at your job?” Darcy shot back.

“Darcy!” my dad thundered.

She fell silent and plopped back onto the couch, her chin jutted out in defiance. But the thing was, she was right. It wasn’t fair that we were stuck here. It made no sense that the entire FBI couldn’t catch one guy. I just never would have had the guts to say it.

“So…what?” I asked, crossing my arms over my E=mc2 sweatshirt. “You’re just waiting for him to show himself? To make a mistake? I thought you said he was brilliant. What’re the chances he actually screws up and lets himself get caught?”

Messenger didn’t have to answer. The resigned look on her face said everything. I pulled my knees up under my chin and hugged myself as tightly as I could. What if the mistake he made was breaking into my room and stabbing me to death before anyone could do anything? Had anyone considered that?

“Unbelievable,” my dad said, throwing up his hands. He paced over to the front window and looked out at the two police cruisers idling near the end of our driveway, a constant ever since the day I was attacked. A red light at the base of the window blinked at a regular interval, part of a complicated alarm system the FBI had rigged for the house. “I don’t think I can take much more of this. My sub better give that quiz tonight,” he muttered. “If she doesn’t give them the quiz, my whole grading system will be entirely thrown off.”

Darcy’s phone buzzed, and she groaned. “It’s Becky again. She’s going to kill me if I miss this party.”

“Enough!” I blurted, standing up. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t sit next to her for one more second. “There’s a killer on the loose and he’s after us! I can’t believe you’re worried about a party!” I wanted to yell at my dad for caring so much about a stupid quiz, too, but of course I didn’t. All my angry thoughts toward my father always stayed just that—thoughts.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I know you’ve never been to one, Rory,” she said sarcastically. “But they’re actually kind of fun.” Then she looked me up and down and slowly pocketed her phone. “Unless you like being under house arrest.”

“I like being safe,” I retorted.

“Why am I not surprised?” she shot back, rising to her feet to face off with me. “You’re here practically all the time anyway, holed up in your room with your little stethoscope and all your beakers—”