Aren’t you coming with us?â€
I feel his hand on my cheek. I know what this means and I slap his hand away.
“You’re coming with us, Evan,†I say.
“There’s something I have to do.â€
“That’s right.†My hand flails for his in the dark. I find it and pull hard. “You have to come with us.â€
“I’ll find you, Cassie. Don’t I always find you? I—â€
“Don’t, Evan. You don’t know you’ll be able to find me.â€
“Cassie.†I don’t like the way he says my name. His voice is too soft, too sad, too much like a good-bye voice. “I was wrong when I said I was both and neither. I can’t be; I know that now. I have to choose.â€
“Wait a minute,†Ben says. “Cassie, this guy is one of them?â€
“It’s complicated,†I answer. “We’ll go over it later.†I grab Evan’s hand in both of mine and press it against my chest. “Don’t leave me again.â€
“You left me, remember?†He spreads his fingers over my heart, like he’s holding it, like it belongs to him, the hard-fought-for territory he’s won fair and square.
I give in. What am I going to do, put a gun to his head? He’s gotten this far, I tell myself. He’ll get the rest of the way.
“What’s due north?†I ask, pushing against his fingers.
“I don’t know. But it’s the shortest path to the farthest spot.â€
“The farthest spot from what?â€
“From here. Wait for the plane. When the plane takes off, run. Ben, do you think you can run?â€
“I think so.â€
“Run fast?â€
“Yes.†He doesn’t sound too confident about it, though.
“Wait for the plane,†Evan whispers. “Don’t forget.â€
He kisses me hard on the mouth, and then the stairwell goes all Evanless.
— Rick Yancey
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