The Fox Inheritance (Jenna Fox Chronicles 2)

"My eyes are adjusting. There's a door ahead."

We reach the landing, and I push on the handle. The door opens easily, and a rush of light hits us. It is a dim orange glow, but against the dark it seems bright.

"Come in. We've been waiting for you."

Three people inhabit the room. At least I think they're people. In adjacent hallways and rooms we see more people, all busy with something. The large man in the center of the room takes charge of us and guides us down a long, poorly lit hallway. He is definitely human. His face is slashed with a deep scar from his temple to the corner of his mouth, and he walks with a marked limp. He leads us to a small, windowless room with a single cot in the corner. The only light is what spills in from the hallway.

"Probably not what you're used to, but it's only for one night. We don't take repeats, you understand? You either make it or you don't."

"Repeats? We don't know what--"

"And we don't take questions."

I nod.

Kara meets his somber stare and smiles. "Thank you. This will do just fine, Mr....?"

"For your purposes, F is enough."

I mumble a thank-you too.

Before he turns to leave, he adds, "Don't come out. Don't wander around. Stay here until we come and get you in the morning. There's food in the corner."

I peer into the dark cavern. "Is there any light so we can see?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "Wait here." He limps down the hallway to another room and returns with a broken jar that holds the melted remnants of a candle in the bottom. "This should last you a few hours." He lights the wick and hands me the jar.

We enter the room and close the door behind us. Kara grunts. "The F must stand for Friendly."

I set the candle on a small overturned crate. The walls flicker with its faint light. Kara kicks at a piece of trash on the floor, her nose wrinkled. She crosses to the cot, lifts one corner of a blanket with two fingers to inspect what might be hidden beneath, and then lets it drop.

She turns to look at me and shrugs. "Not the Ritz, is it?" she says.

I lean against the door behind me. I don't know how she can make small talk at a time like this. "What are we going to do, Kara? What's our plan? This doesn't even look like the Boston we knew. It's nothing like--"

"Shh! Keep your voice down," she whispers. She walks over to the corner of the room and begins rummaging through a box of food. "Nuts. That's all they have in here. Lousy packages of nuts. And a few boxes of water." She rips open a packet and throws a handful into her mouth. "Stale nuts." She grimaces but eats them anyway.

"Kara, I don't care about the nuts! We have to--"

"Stop worrying! We're on the outskirts, Locke. That's all. The old part of Boston still has to be there. We'll be fine."

"Fine? Gatsbro's dead. Haven't you thought about that? We're on the run, and we're illegal. We have no money. No home. We don't know a soul on the whole planet and--"

"We know Jenna."

I am caught off guard. My present fears screech to a halt against the mention of Jenna's name. Conversations with her as the topic do not go well.

I push away from the wall and pretend to adjust the candle. I can't look in her eyes when I talk about Jenna. I swirl the melting wax to the outside of the jar to increase the flame. "Yes. There's Jenna."

"We'll go and see her."

See her. Like it's just a friendly visit. Surprise, Jenna. Look who's shown up after a couple of centuries. Bet you never thought you'd run into us again. See her? For Kara it's about a lot more than seeing. It's about justice. I set the candle back on the crate. "Is that what this has been about all along? Jenna?"

She explodes like she was just waiting for me to ask. "No!" She throws the nuts in her hand against the wall and they rain to the floor. "Contrary to popular belief, everything is not about Jenna!" She walks over to the cot, jerks away the rumpled blanket, and sits down, crossing her arms, hugging herself, pulling everything in tight. "I used to live here too, you know? I might still have family in Boston. Something. Or there's my mother's law firm, Brown, Kirk, and Manning. They're huge. And powerful. My mom was a partner. They would help us. There has to be someone left."

With each word, her voice has grown smaller. She is looking down at her lap, probably thinking all the same things I am. There is no one. No one who cares about us. We're forgotten by everyone, including Jenna. We only have each other. I stare at her. The angry Kara is gone, and I see the Kara I love, the one who can be so strong but is still as fragile as a strand of spider silk. I see the Kara who has lost everything, just like me. My hand clenches tight. Jenna could have saved her. She should have found a way.

The faintest sound rolls from Kara's lips, like an injured kitten mewling, and all I want to do is hold her and make the rest of the world go away.