Sneak (Swipe Series)

twisted the small, silver cross in her fingers and thought, I’m listening . I’ll hear it .
    Eventually Grandma walked to the elevator, to find her son-in-law and lie to him about her long nap and her wonderful dreams.
    Tomorrow would be another day. Mrs. Phoenix would be waiting. And Grandma had a feeling she’d better get good at coming up with alibis.
    9
    Erin was surprised to find her father home when she returned from school. She’d expected him to work late after the disaster at the farm the night before.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked.
    Mr. Arbitor shrugged, not looking up from the mug of nano-coffee he held between his hands on the kitchen table.
    “School’s a mess,” Erin said. “Between the kids whispering about Hailey’s disappearance, and that ridiculous secretary, Ms. Carrol, running around talking to reporters like a chicken with her head cut off, the whole place is chaos.” She dropped her bag and sat across from her father.
    “That’s nice, dear,” Mr. Arbitor said absently.
    “You should have listened to me,” Erin said. “I’d have found him. I’d have checked the barn before running around blowing people’s heads off like a maniac. Logan would have talked to me if I’d shown up alone. He’d have protected me from the Dust, and he’d have talked to me. You could have moved in anytime, and you’d have caught them. And we’d know what Logan knows. And I’d have my friend back.”
    Mr. Arbitor stared intently into his mug.
    “Are you hearing me, Dad?” She waved her hand in front of his face.
    “We’re moving back to Beacon,” Mr. Arbitor said. He sipped his nanocoffee, still not looking at his daughter.
    “Wait. We are?” Erin’s eyes lit up. “When? Dad, that’s great!
    Have you told Mom?”
    “I was demoted,” Mr. Arbitor said. “Cheswick demoted me.
    Said I was incompetent. They’re calling it a transfer. But I was demoted.”
    Erin was quiet for a moment. Then she shrugged. “Well, what do you expect, Dad? You are incompetent. If you’d have listened to reason, we’d have caught the little misers by now. We’d have Logan Marked and on our side, and maybe you’d be getting a promotion instead of . . .” Erin trailed off. She was still trying to start a fight.
    But Mr. Arbitor wasn’t biting. And this scared her almost more than anything. “Dad. Come on. There’s a silver lining here. We get to be with Mom again!”
    “You’re right,” her father said. “You won.”
    “What? No, Dad, I—this isn’t about me.”
    “You sneaked into DOME and stole our supplies. You helped Logan escape while he was in our custody. You set this whole mess into motion. All because I dragged you out here. All because you wanted to go home. And now we are.” He finally looked at her. “So you have won.” Erin’s father pushed the nanocoffee away with his forearms. “We leave the day after tomorrow. Better start packing.”
    Then Mr. Arbitor put his head down on the table, resting his cheek against its surface. And Erin slipped quietly away.
    10
    It was in the afternoon that the Dust saw it: the sailboat lying on bone-dry ground in the middle of nowhere, half an acre away from a lone house in the distance. They’d made it out of the woods, riding the stream deep into the wastelands, with not a person in sight—and yet here was this house, all by itself. With an old sailboat fifty miles away from the nearest lake.
    “A boat,” Jo said. “A boat is a captain’s symbol . . .”
    “I thought we were supposed to be looking for an anchor,” Eddie said.
    Tyler scoffed. “ I thought we were supposed to be looking for drawings. Not the real thing.”
    But Peck smiled.
    The Dust disembarked from the raft and walked across the scrubby field.
    Through the window, Peck could see a man sitting in a rocking chair on a dirt floor. It was a one-room house, nothing else in it but a fireplace, a card table, and a vase on the windowsill, with two dead flowers inside.
    “Who’s there?” the man called out.
    “Just us, sir.” And Peck poked his head inside the open front door. He motioned for the rest of the Dust to follow. “We don’t mean to bother you. But we couldn’t help noticing the boat on your property.” He stepped toward the man, close to the rocking chair.
    “Yeah? What of it?”
    Peck shrugged, slyly arcing the toe of his shoe through the dirt.
    The man looked down. He stared at the ground for some time.
    Then the man drew a line as