Sneak (Swipe Series)

“They’re here.”
    7
    Erin stood in the doorway of the farmhouse, DOME soldiers flanking her and signaling commands as teams of them secured each room, one by one.
    Mr. Arbitor smiled, his hand finding Erin’s back and patting it twice.
    “You did this,” he said. “This is thanks to you. You’re a hero today, Erin.”
    But Erin didn’t hear a word of that.
    Instead, she was very far away, on her rollerstick with Logan. They were riding through the Spokie streets on a warm September night, and she was laughing as he held on tight and begged her to slow down, just a little.
    She was in Logan’s room, giggling in the closet while his dad came in and tucked him into bed, asking whether or not Logan wanted his night-light turned on before he went to sleep.
    She was at an ice cream parlor, sharing a sundae with Logan and so relieved to hear that he was planning to Pledge the next day.
    “No sign yet of the targets,” one man whispered, snapping her back to the present.
    “There was a shot fired,” Erin said matter-of-factly.
    “Just an old miser,” the agent said. “But we’ll keep looking.”
    Two men walked down the stairs now, carrying a man who lay limp in their arms.
    And Erin closed her eyes. Tight. As tight as she could. Somehow not tight enough. And she was on the sports lawn at lunch, eating sandwiches with Logan, picking at the plasti-grass, sitting warm in the sun. She was not here.
    She was not here.
    8
    “Who is here? Peck, who ?” Jo hissed as she gathered her things and shook the others awake.
    “DOME. They’ve found us. The Hayeses can’t help.”
    “The Hayeses can’t . . . Peck . . . Peck, why can’t the Hayeses help ?”
    The voices came to Logan in a whisper and he rose, exhausted but on edge at the same time.
    “Take the blankets.”
    So Logan rolled his tattered fleece tightly around his arm and slipped into his shoes. Immediately he was shivering.
    “Leave the rest. Follow me.”
    “Peck, where are we going?”
    “Away.”
    “But how will we know where to—”
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    And the Dust slipped out the open door. Blake ran first, carrying Rusty and whispering something about things being all right. Tyler and Eddie followed, laughing and flicking each other even now. Meg ran by, looking excited enough for all of them. Jo went next, shaking her head and setting the pace for Dane and Hailey behind her. Logan left last.
    Four hours. He’d been given four hours of hope before DOME took it all away again. And he wondered, in that moment, what Erin might have thought of all this. He wondered about the plans she’d have for his daring escape, what she would have said to let him know that everything would be okay.
    If only she were here .
    And then Logan squinted through the darkness at the farmhouse across the field, and a horrible thought struck him.
    What if she is?
    It was hard to see through his shaggy hair, and his stomach grumbled and he worried about the noise it made, but the voices of the Dust all said, “This way” and Logan followed them blindly through the December-chilled woods. Tonight he would trust those voices. They were all there was left to trust.
    Peck whispered now to all of them. “A shot was just fired in Papa’s study. Most likely he’s, well . . .” A gasp rippled through the Dust before Peck could say it. Dead . He was glad he wouldn’t have to. “We have to assume Mama is in custody, or worse. But I have a feeling DOME’s not here for them at all. I have a feeling they’re here for us. Which means they’ll be searching the farmhouse another few minutes before they expand to the rest of the perimeter.”
    The Dust looked at Peck expectantly. “Then what now?” Blake asked.
    “There’s a raft waiting for us on the stream in the woods. Tonight we take it as far as it’ll go.”
    “Take it where?” Jo asked. “Peck, we have no plan!”
    “We do have a plan,” Peck corrected. “Once we’re moving . . . I can explain everything once we’re moving. Until then, just follow me. Stick together and everything’ll be okay. All is not lost if we can stick together.”
    But just as Peck said this, Logan heard them, DOME, the officers, though they were trained for stealth. He saw in the corners of his vision the dancing laser sights and flashlights in the snow all around him. And he imagined the life ahead, locked up and forgotten . . . or tortured . . . or worse.
    Immediately, the Dust scattered, running in half a