The Taking (The Taking 1)

The helicopter overhead made it impossible for us to stop to catch our breath. It zigged and zagged, its light never pinpointing our location, but it was up there all the same. Which let us know they hadn’t given up on us.

We stayed as close as we could to the thicker patches of trees and brush, trying to keep low and out of sight. The leaves above us were thrashed by the blades, and pieces of projectile branches and dirt whorled around us whenever the helicopter came too close. Most likely they were tracking us on foot, too, and we had no idea how much of a head start we had on them.

“Here.” Tyler pulled me down beneath a layer of thick brush. “Let’s see if we lost them.”

I dropped in front of him. “How did you know I could do that?” I asked, panting. “Back there, with the ball?”

“You kidding? I saw you throw that night. I figured that was one of your new superpowers.”

“I don’t have powers,” I countered.

He shrugged dubiously. “Did you see the way you threw that ball—you have powers.” I couldn’t deny his accusation entirely. Simon might not have mentioned anything like that, but it would be one giant coincidence if my new ability to throw stupid-fast wasn’t somehow linked to everything else that made me . . . well, less than normal.

Reaching up, Tyler plucked a twig from my hair. “How you doin’?” he asked. “You okay?”

Nodding, I found my heart beating for a different reason now. “You?”

A lazy grin tugged at his lips. “Hell no. But you’re still not ditching me.”

“It’s not funny.”

His hand dropped to my side, his fingers interlacing with mine. “I know it’s not. And I’m serious. You’re the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me. I just don’t want you getting any crazy ideas about losing me out here.”

My heart faltered. Losing him was the last thing I wanted.

When the spotlight from the helicopter came too close again, it jerked us back to reality. We jumped up, breaking free from the bushes like startled animals, and darted across the overgrown forest floor. Branches whipped and pulled at us, snagging and ripping our clothes and skin.

“This way.” I clung to Tyler and towed him along, toward a stand of trees ahead of us. The glowing halo of the spotlight bobbed behind us, moving drunkenly in our wake.

Tyler stumbled again and again, and I wondered at how he couldn’t see the branches and vines he continuously tripped over. I tried to warn him whenever I remembered, but it was hard, and my words got lost in my gasping breaths. When his toe landed solidly against a large rock in the path, he staggered, dragging me down with him.

“It’s okay,” I panted, pulling him back up before he’d actually hit the ground. “Keep going. See?” I pointed toward the trees. “We’re almost there.”

The spotlight was nearly to us, trailing us like an unnatural shadow.

“No! I can’t see it,” he shouted back, fumbling for me once more and finding my hand. “I can’t see anything out here. Nothing but that stupid light.”

I dragged him along, pulling him out of the reach of the light that veered too far left to find us. “Nothing?” I managed to pant, still running.

Ahead of us there was a tunnel between the trees. I was almost certain we could squeeze through it. I had no idea what was on the other side, but I didn’t think the searchlight could find us there.

When we slipped inside, I exhaled heavily, collapsing on the damp ground. I surveyed our temporary hiding spot—essentially an opening in a blackberry thicket. If we moved too far in any direction, the pointed thorns would lance us. “You can’t see anything at all?”

“Shit!” Tyler cursed, brushing against one wall of the treacherous spikes, and then, trying to escape them, he lurched too far the other way and backed into yet another wall of them. He extricated himself carefully this time, cursing the entire time. I helped by pulling stray barbs from his T-shirt and hair.

“Are you saying you can?” he asked when the worst of his swearing had faded to a stream of unintelligible mutters. “See, I mean? That it’s not pitch-black to you?”

I blinked, looking around at our surroundings. At the thick vines and the jagged-edged leaves. I saw the angry red scrapes running down his right arm and on his cheek from the blackberry vines, and that he was frowning at me even though he wasn’t actually looking directly at me.

I reached out and moved a stray vine he was dangerously close to tangling with, saving him from more of the welts and scrapes.

I could see. And he couldn’t.

Tyler grinned then. “You have night vision,” he said to no one in particular, since he was staring directly at a wall of bushes. I could practically see his thoughts then, too, mentally chalking that up to yet another of my new “superpowers.”

“I think we should call Simon,” I told him, digging for the envelope in my back pocket. “Here.” I reached for the fanny pack I’d made fun of him for wearing. I unzipped it and stuffed the cash and the things I’d taken from my dad’s place inside.

I kept the phone.

As soon as I powered it on, light filled our hiding space, and I immediately covered the small screen with both hands. If there was anyone following us on foot, we’d just given ourselves away.

I dialed the only number that was programmed and waited. I had to cup my hands over the receiver to hear, even though the helicopter had veered away from us.