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then crouched and inched up to the back of the car, peeking around the edge. Bryson was
next, then Michael, who lifted his head enough to look through the window. On the other
side of the vehicle, trees crowded the hillside, growing thicker and thicker until they
formed a dark forest. Michael felt that familiar gaming itch—the curiosity of the
unexplored, the certainty that there was something sinister hidden out there. He realized
that it helped him feel braver to approach this like a game.
Walter turned back and motioned for Michael and Bryson to follow him, then made a
break for the woods. Michael stayed close to Bryson, crouching as low as possible, with a
tight grip on his rifle. He stopped at the first line of trees, holding his weapon as if it were
a lance in a joust. Even though he was trying to think of this as a game, he couldn’t
fathom pulling the trigger any time soon. What he was really hoping for was a chance to
talk to Janey or any other Tangent. He’d already thought it through. He’d decided that if
the opportunity presented itself, he would accidentally “get lost” and take off on his own.
He needed information, not dead children—no matter who lived in their heads.
It got darker as they crept deeper into the woods and the canopy of leaves grew thicker
over their heads. Dry pine straw crackled under Michael’s feet. Branches scratched his
arms as he swept his gun left and right. Shadows passed, drawing his attention to the dark
corners of the forest, and curling bark and thick branches of pine needles twisted into
long arms and fingers reaching out to tug at his hair and clothes. No one spoke as they
moved through the maze of the forest. Only their footsteps and the buzz of insects broke
the silence.
They pressed forward for ten or fifteen minutes, like three hunters looking for a
hapless deer. The fading sunlight barely illuminated the forest floor, creating a shadowy
gloom that made Michael wonder if they might not be stepping right past the very
Tangents they were searching for.
Suddenly he caught a glimpse of movement off to his right, a quick flash of something
bright moving from one tree to another. Walter and Bryson were already moving on, so
Michael slowed his steps until he stopped completely, and continued to crunch the pine
straw underfoot. His companions were so lost in concentration that they didn’t notice
they’d left Michael, and soon they’d turned a corner, disappearing behind a huge oak.
Michael took his opportunity. He turned as slowly as possible toward the movement he’d
seen in the forest.
He crept up to the tree where he’d seen the movement stop.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Michael whispered. “I’m…uh…the First. Please, just let me
talk to whoever’s leading you guys out here. Let me talk to Janey.”
A couple of seconds went by before an answer came, a soft but harsh rasp. A man.
“Janey’s a child. What would make you think she leads us?”
Michael definitely hadn’t been expecting that to be the response. “Um, okay. She said—”
“Yes,” the voice interrupted. “Many of my friends have chosen to take the bodies of
children. But the agreement is that they’re too weak to lead.”
It was already a weird conversation, and Michael didn’t have much time. “Look, I’m a