The Replaced
3.5/5
()
About this ebook
The gripping second installment in the Taking trilogy is perfect for fans of The Fifth Wave and the Body Finder series. Explosive and romantic, with creepy, otherworldly elements and twisty, psychological thrills, The Replaced will have you questioning what exactly it means to be human.
Kyra hasn’t been the same since she returned from her mysterious five-year disappearance. Now on the run from the NSA, Kyra is forced to hide out with others who, like her, have been Returned. Yet she is determined to find Tyler, the boy she loves who was also abducted…all because of her. When her group intercepts a message that Tyler might still be alive, Kyra risks everything to get him back. But he is being held by a shadowy government organization that experiments on the Returned, and going after him puts the rest of the group in danger. Even if Kyra gets Tyler back, the fight to save him—and the rest of the Returned—is just beginning.
Kimberly Derting
Kimberly Derting is the author of the Cece Loves Science series, the Body Finder series, the Pledge trilogy, and the Taking series. She lives in the Pacific Northwest, where the gloomy weather is ideal for writing anything dark and creepy. Her three beautiful (and often mouthy) children serve as an endless source of inspiration and frequently find things they say buried in the pages of their mother’s books. You can visit her online at www.kimberlyderting.com.
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Reviews for The Replaced
21 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/52.5 good (enough)I wanted to read the replaced because I remember really enjoying the first one. even though I really don't have a whole lot of memory about it besides I liked the romance all the complication of her disappearing and then coming back as well as the whole alien angle.It got right back into the mix of the story with her at a camp for the returned people who have been taken by aliens and then brought back to Earth. she's with some guys I guess you met last time and she really believe that they had gotten into the aliens security system somehow and she got a message from her dad but the guys with her didn't believe her and it really frustrated her that what she saw from them was pity. Their mission brought the action level up a notch, and it was slowly integrated into the story the details from the first, and I remembered things or just was able to follow along as the story progresses.There were a few twists in the story, and I was reeling from a few of the things revealed. Some of the people from Kyra's past and how they work into the story. I wasn't sure how I felt about that as well as the semi forming other attraction.But honestly, I think that The Replaced had a few "big" reveals that just didn't shock me and couldn't figure out why it did Kyra and company. And it fell into a bit of the formulaic second book syndrome-- oh look, we have a main character who has to go into hiding with some of the people that she met at end of first book, not sure who we can trust, go on several road trips following half leads, face off with the nemesis, escape, rescue mission, oh look, here we are in the car again. Then a reveal and the ending.While I didn't hate this and did want to get through to the ending hoping for Tyler's appearance, I just wasn't enamored. Not sure if I will continue with the series because of one of the twists.Bottom Line: Some surprises but mostly the paranormal second book syndrome in play.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Review courtesy of Dark Faerie TalesQuick & Dirty: Unfortunately, I didn’t enjoy this novel as much as I did the previous one. I couldn’t connect with the main character and resented the extra love interest who was added in.Opening Sentence: Dead.The Review:Spoilers for the first book! In The Taking, Kira realized that aliens abducted her and took five years from her. She’s not the only one who’s been stolen away, but she is the only one who has been gone longer than a couple days. When Tyler was infected by the fatal disease in her blood, she took the last chance she had to save him, and tried to give him to the aliens in the hopes they could heal him. It worked, and he, too, was taken. But it’s been weeks without sign of him and Kira is crazy with worry. Not only that, but she’s beginning to realize what makes her different from the rest of the returned. She has a mysterious power that she finds hard to control and her old nemesis seems resistant to all her attempts to assuage him. To find Tyler, Kira will do whatever it takes. But when she finds him, will he be the same?I read The Taking last year. I had been intrigued by the original plotline and awesome main character, Kira, and loved the romance with Tyler. When I got the opportunity to review The Replaced, I scooped it up, excited to continue the story. In the first, it was a nice entry into the series, but there was a lot of information left out. Why are the aliens taking humans? What do they plan to do with the returned? I was excited to answer a couple of those questions in the sequel. Although there was a couple questions answered, there were more that developed, and I’m not sure how everything could be answered in a third book. In the end, it was an okay read, but I think I enjoyed The Taking more: I’m not sure what it was, but I didn’t find The Replaced as gripping as The Taking was, or engaging.Kira is still a badass heroine, but I didn’t care for her as much this book. In book one, I felt connected to her plight. The book moved at a steady pace and her emotions were easy to sink into. This novel, I found that the pace was less stable and more action packed, and that Kira was harder for me to connect with for whatever reason. One thing I did like about her in the story was her powers. She was watching them develop and doing her best to control them but was having difficulties. Through all of that she remained determined to figure them out in order to be safe around her friends and loved ones. I think my lack of connection to Kira was a major reason that this book fell a little flat for me, especially when I expected so much after the killer first novel.In The Taking, I loved her love interest, Tyler. He was sweet, friendly, and he was a good listener. He would do anything for Kira. Their relationship developed adorably and I totally approved. Unfortunately, in this novel, something of a love triangle springs up which annoyed to me no end. I didn’t even like the guy who was the second option, Simon. It was basically “since Tyler isn’t around I guess you’re a good second choice!” I mean, come on. Tyler never would have given up on Kira were it him in her shoes and he deserved that kind of loyalty from her. At least wait a year or two before moving on, not months. This really messed up how I looked at Kira, and I lost respect for her the instant she began to feel something for him.For all my complaining, there were things I enjoyed about this book. You finally realize what happened to Kira up there and the difference between her and the other returned. There are a couple other questions answered, and a nifty cliffhanger sets up a next book nicely. There were some good action scenes and a couple big revelations, though they were somewhat predictable. Nevertheless, I felt let down by this novel. The writing felt simpler in a way and the whole book was more rushed. I get that the story has to speed up book two, but I wish that I could have followed along better. One thing that I will say is that the cover to The Replaced is as gorgeous as The Taking‘s was and you should try it out if you liked the first book, if only for the cover. Maybe your feelings will be different!Notable Scene:Where were the fireflies when you needed them?“Get off at the next exit!” Jeff announced franticly from the front seat. He snapped the laptop shut and was waving wildly toward the right side of the jam-packed highway. “Get over! Start signaling now. We need to get off as soon as possible!”This couldn’t be good. “Why? What is it?”“It’s us,” Jett answered, twisting in his seat so her could face us all. “They’ve got roadblocks up ahead and they’re looking for us.”FTC Advisory: HarperTeen provided me with a copy of The Replaced. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review.
Book preview
The Replaced - Kimberly Derting
DEDICATION
TO HUDSON JAMES
YOU MAKE THE WORLD A BRIGHTER PLACE!
CONTENTS
Dedication
Part One
Chapter One: Day Twenty-Five: Silent Creek Camp
Chapter Two
Chapter Three: Day Twenty-Six
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven: Day Twenty-Seven: Somewhere Along the I-5 Corridor
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine: Columbia Basin, Washington State
Chapter Ten
Part Two
Chapter Eleven: Day Twenty-Eight: Just outside Zion National Park. Somewhere in Utah.
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen: Day Thirty: Blackwater Ranch
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Part Three
Chapter Sixteen: Day Thirty-One
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Back Ads
About the Author
Books by Kimberly Derting
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
PART ONE
Will you walk into my parlour?
said the Spider to the Fly,
’Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy.
—Mary Howitt, The Spider and the Fly
CHAPTER ONE
Day Twenty-Five
Silent Creek Camp
DEAD.
Or rather, like I was dying.
That’s the way I felt, watching the screen go all black like that. Like my lungs had gone from two functioning things that were pink and plump and filled with life, to shriveled-up hunks of useless meat that could no more pump air from them than I could sprout wings from my back and fly.
It had been seventeen days since I’d watched the guy I love be plucked from the ground by aliens and then vanish in a blaze of light. The same night I’d lost my dad in that very desert. And now the first actual hints of the two of them being out there had just flashed across the screen, right before the computer shut down.
That was the worst part of all this, that I still had no idea where my dad or Tyler were. That was the thing that was driving me utterly-madly-insanely crazy.
For the past seventeen days I’d been consumed by thoughts of them, convinced I might never see either of them alive, all while I’ve been trapped here, in the mountains of nowhere, Oregon, in a camp for the Returned—others like me, who’d once had normal-ordinary-regular lives, but who’d had the rug pulled out from under them the same way I had when I’d been taken. Abducted and experimented on by aliens. All because I’d had the dumb luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Like them, I’d come back different. Changed.
And now people around me got hurt. Even my own mother had said as much—I was a danger to others.
I’d spent the past seventeen days living with the proof of just how deadly I’d become. I mean, how many normal girls had poisoned their own boyfriends simply by accidentally cutting themselves?
None. That’s how many.
I get how crazy it sounds, the whole idea of alien experiments, and I wouldn’t have believed it either if I hadn’t seen the proof with my own eyes—including the part where Tyler had almost died right in front of me.
If only I’d been one of those normal girls when I’d sliced my hand with that box cutter, then I’d never have needed to take Tyler to Devil’s Hole that night, hoping those same aliens who’d made my blood toxic to him in the first place would whisk him away, too, and undo the damage I’d done to him.
Maybe then Tyler would still be alive and safe, and my dad wouldn’t have gone missing the way he had, before I’d even had the chance—a real chance—to tell him how sorry I was for doubting him and his crazy
abduction theories, and to tell him how much I’d missed him. Him, the dad he’d always been . . . always, even when I’d been missing for five years and he’d never, ever, not for a second, given up on me. Not even when everyone else had, including my boyfriend, Austin, my best friend, Cat, and my mom—whose betrayal hurt most of all because mothers shouldn’t ever stop believing their children are out there, somewhere, wanting to come back to them.
But my mom did. She gave up on both of us, me and my dad. She left us behind and started a new life, with a new husband and a new son—her new family. And I tried to forgive her, to understand her motivations, but I wasn’t sure I could, not entirely.
But none of that meant I didn’t love her, or that I didn’t miss her or even my new brother
in the same way I sat here missing my dad.
They might not spend every minute of every day thinking about me, but that didn’t change the way I felt about each and every one of them.
Especially after seeing the message that had popped up on Jett’s screen . . . seventeen days after Tyler and Agent Truman . . . and my dad had just . . .
Poof!
Does someone want to explain what the hell just happened?
I was surprised I’d even been able to force the words from my mouth at all, considering those messed-up lungs of mine. I whipped around to face Jett, who was already leaning over my shoulder and punching frantically at the keyboard in front of me. He tried his best to boot the computer back up, but I could already tell there was no point. Everything we’d been looking at a moment earlier was just . . . gone, and now we were left staring at a big empty field of nothing.
He shook his head. Someone shut us down,
he muttered, but he wasn’t talking to me now—his comment was directed at Simon. He lifted the computer from my lap and dropped it onto his own as he hunched over it, his fingers gliding in a way that made it look effortless while he got lost in a series of commands and functions I’d never understand. Jett handled a keyboard the way I handled a softball, like it was second nature. They knew we were in their system and they locked us out.
He unconsciously rubbed his arm and I recognized the gesture. It was Jett’s tic whenever he mentioned the No-Suchers, as he called the NSA. Even though they hadn’t directly been responsible for branding him back in the day, when the government had begun covertly hunting for the Returned, and even though he’d healed from the firefly image they’d scalded into his skin—the way we all healed from our injuries—his hand instinctively stroked the spot.
They,
I repeated. Of course it was them. We’d intercepted one of their classified emails right before that cryptic message had popped up, and somehow they’d caught on to us.
That dying sensation was back, rendering my lungs utterly ineffective, and even though I wanted to talk, the words were stuck so far down in my windpipe I practically had to cough them out. But . . . he . . . he was right there,
I sputtered, and even that came out sounding like someone had just punched me in the throat. I pointed at the deceased computer Jett was furiously trying to revive.
Even though it had only been a single word, that message from my dad had flipped my entire world upside down. For a split second I’d actually allowed myself to believe this seventeen-day nightmare had finally come to an end. Now, with Jett’s computer struggling to come back to life, I had no idea if, or when, I’d ever see my dad again.
Kyra,
Simon tried. "We’re not even sure it was him. It might have been them all along."
Yeah. Coulda been a trap,
Jett paused to interject.
I glanced down at the gibberish-looking commands that filled the screen, and felt a flare of hope when I saw that he at least had the thing rebooting. I held my breath, hoping against hope that the pop-up message we’d seen right before the whole computer had shut down might somehow—yes, miraculously, I get that—still be there after Jett was done working his magic.
But I knew better. It was gone for sure.
Shut up,
I insisted to both of them. Then I sighed because I knew they’d never help me if I didn’t at least try to be nicer about it.
I hadn’t been all that nice to Simon since he and I had had to leave Devil’s Hole all by ourselves, without either Tyler or my dad. I’d avoided him whenever possible, even though I wasn’t sure if it was because I was ashamed of what I’d done by poisoning Tyler with my blood, or because I was mad Simon hadn’t warned me in time to stop it all from happening in the first place. The only thing that was clear was that I hadn’t wanted to talk to him about any of it. And even though I didn’t particularly want to be nice now, it wouldn’t do any good to alienate them when they were only trying to help. You’re wrong, both of you. It had to be him.
I exhaled, scowling now because they’d seen the same thing I had, my nickname—Supernova—clear as day in that message. Who else would call me that?
Simon’s black brows met over the bridge of his narrow nose, and he was so close I could make out the golden-y flecks that seemed to float in his copper-colored eyes. You know that was your dad’s online handle the entire five years you were missing.
It wasn’t a question, and he wasn’t wrong.
Supernova16. It had been plastered all over my dad’s crazy internet message boards for years. Anyone who wanted to could have sleuthed that mystery out on their own.
He held my gaze, and for a minute I thought he was waiting for me to back down, to admit there was at least a possibility I might be wrong, because there was always a possibility, wasn’t there? And when I didn’t—not so much as a blink, since there was no way I thought I was mistaken, not this time—his gaze dropped to the screen and he studied Jett’s impressive recovery of the laptop with just a little too much interest.
But it was too late because I’d already recognized the look in his eyes.
Pity.
Simon hadn’t for one second believed it had been my dad who’d sent me that message. And now, because he knew I did, he felt sorry for me.
I stormed away from Simon and Jett, leaving them alone with their stupid computer . . . and all their stupid unwanted pity. I wasn’t sure why I was so pissed that neither of them came running after me, especially since I hadn’t really expected them to, but I still totally was. And since I was the heroine in this melodrama in my head, I could be as pissy as I wanted.
But even if they’d tried to stop me, I’d have been pissed about that too, so they couldn’t win for losing.
I was surprised to find Thom, the leader of the Silent Creek camp, waiting outside the temporary communication base, looking like he had something to say. But carrying on an actual conversation was the last thing I wanted to do, so I lowered my gaze and bulldozed past him, feeling only the slightest stab of guilt.
Mostly I was aware of how loudly I’d been muttering beneath my breath, and even as I kept moving, determined to make a quick getaway, I uncrossed my arms and tried to look a little less crazy, hoping that, at the very least, he hadn’t heard the foul things I’d been saying about Simon and Jett.
In Silent Creek, we didn’t have girl residences and boy residences. We had the Silent Creek campers’ residences—entire houses where Thom’s Returned dwelled, sometimes with roommates and sometimes being assigned the entire homes to themselves—and the two small rooms we’d been allotted when Simon had ushered us here after his camp had been disbanded. After the No-Suchers had discovered his hidden fortress at the abandoned Hanford site back in Washington.
But two rooms were all we needed. It’s not like we slept or anything, not really. It was just nice to have a place we could call our own, even if we had to bunk with our fellow Returned. Willow’s bed was directly across from mine, and even though I knew she didn’t like anyone touching her things, I nudged her storage container—one of those plastic bins—with the toe of my shoe, pushing it back beneath her bed.
Apparently, having a few minutes to myself didn’t just make me calmer, it made me bolder.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone for long.
When Simon finally found me, I was still sitting there, staring sullenly at the floor. I glanced at the bedside clock, and an uneasy jolt rippled through me as I realized that over an hour had passed—sixty-six whole minutes, to be exact—while I’d been sitting there, brooding over Simon and the lost message and all the reasons we were stuck here in the mountains of central Oregon in the first place.
Kyra?
Simon stepped inside the doorway, and I felt my stomach drop when I heard the way he said my name, all patronizing, like I was too soft and needed coddling. As if he pitied me, and the very idea made me want to hit him all over again.
This whole situation was so hard to wrap my head around. Just twenty-five short days ago, my life had been so boringly normal. I was an ordinary small-town girl who wanted nothing more than to sneak behind the bleachers so I could make out with my boyfriend.
But the whole twenty-five-days thing was a lie—just smoke and mirrors used to disguise the fact that I’d been missing for five entire years. The truth was, that normal life of mine had vanished the instant I’d climbed out of my dad’s car in the middle of Chuckanut Drive and had been carried away on a flash of light.
It was the stuff bad sci-fi was made of: a girl, a flash of light, and a missing chunk of time. Yet it was all true. Ridiculously-appallingly-crazy but true.
And I’d seen it happen again with my own two eyes—one of those takings
—the night Simon and I had dragged Tyler up to Devil’s Hole, hoping, because it was his very last chance in the world, that whoever they were would take him the way they had me.
And they had.
The fireflies had come, the way Jett had told me they would, as a precursor to the light. Except he’d made it sound like we’d see a small cloud of them, twinkling in the night sky to let us know we’d found the right place.
Instead, those fireflies had engulfed us, nearly choking me. And when they’d gone, it wasn’t just Tyler who was missing, it was my dad and Agent Truman too.
I don’t wanna hear it wasn’t him,
I countered before Simon even had the chance to start in on me. Who else would know my nickname?
It was the same argument I’d used before, and I hazarded a sideways glance when Simon sat down on the twin-sized bed right next to me, the mattress dipping heavily beneath him.
He sighed and sagged forward, balancing his elbows on his knees. His broad shoulder brushed against mine, and it was impossible not to notice the way he restrained himself for my benefit, like he wanted to tell me all the reasons I’d been wrong about the message being from my dad, reasons I knew, really, if I’d just stop being too stubborn to admit it.
Instead of saying any of those things, he scrubbed his hand over his dark, closely sheared hair and said, Maybe you’re right. Maybe it was your dad. But I’m not here to talk about that. If it was him, he’ll have to wait. At least for now. I want to talk about the other message. The NSA email.
He sighed again. If it really means that much to you, I think we should go there, to the Tacoma facility. I think we should find out if it’s really Tyler they’re holding.
He faced me, his unusual eyes capturing my attention.
I thought you said that’s the kind of place the Returned should avoid.
My voice was pinched and tight, but my chest—my lungs—filled fully for the first time as my heart crash-crash-crashed, making those crappy old windbags vibrate like crumbled parchment.
True enough. But if it’s important to you . . . ,
he added, a smile slipping over his lips as he shrugged. I just need to think. Come up with a plan . . .
You’d really do that for Tyler?
I bit my lip and lifted my eyes to his. For me?
I know you don’t believe this, but I want you to be happy, Kyra.
Regret over the way I’d behaved pricked me, and I had to stop myself from leaning into his arm, which was so much bigger than mine.
Then I grinned, because to borrow one of my dad’s expressions, even though I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth . . . come on. And what else? I mean, besides getting Tyler back, what are you hoping to gain, exactly? I know you, Simon. You must think you can get something out of going there, or you wouldn’t risk it.
I expected him to give me some cock-and-bull story about bringing me into his fold, or about teamwork, or . . . I don’t know, how it’s us against them—the Returned versus the No-Suchers. Instead, he answered candidly, If we’re lucky, we’re hoping we can scrounge up some classified documents, maybe get our hands on some alien technology they’re hiding in there. Mostly, I wanna know more about these guys. What makes them tick. Figure out the chinks in their armor.
What if they don’t have any?
I asked.
Simon’s smile turned up full blast. Everyone has ’em.
In the end, it didn’t matter to me what his reasons were. I tried to tell myself not to get my hopes up, but it was almost impossible because I’d seen the email too. It might not have been from Tyler, but I’d already committed every word of the classified email to memory, and I was convinced it was about him:
Washington State Patrol reported an unidentified male between the ages of 16 and 20 years old at a rest stop just south of Olympia, Washington. . . . Subject was carrying no identification and refused to reveal his name to officials. Subject is currently being held at the Tacoma facility for my inspection.
But it wasn’t the content of the email, it was the signature line—from NSA Agent Truman, the very same agent who’d ambushed us that night at Devil’s Hole and then had disappeared himself—that had me convinced: the boy in question had to be Tyler.
We’d all been looking at that email right before my dad’s message had popped up, and to say that I’d hoped it was Tyler the NSA email referred to didn’t even begin to describe what I felt.
Because here’s the thing: if I could dream, it would be of him.
Tyler.
But dreaming was one of those things only afforded to those who could sleep. And since I no longer needed much—sleep, that is—it meant dreaming was pretty much a thing of the past. Like the horse and buggy, or phone booths, or floppy disks.
But I missed dreaming so, so, so much. I missed the way you could dream about something you’d seen on TV or overheard during that day, even if you barely remembered noticing it. Or the way dreams could be completely-utterly-totally random and have nothing to do with anything at all. Like this one time when I dreamed I was dragged onstage during a Wiggles concert, and it was so embarrassing because what was I even doing at a Wiggles concert in the first place?
And just like all those million fireflies that had been there that night at Devil’s Hole—appearing right before the flash of light, their sticky feet clinging to my skin and their wings tangling in my hair as they forced their way up my nose and invaded my ears and my mouth—that ache for Tyler crawled over me, making me itch and burn and want to scream for some sort of relief. Even seventeen days later, it was maddening. Exhausting. Every time the sun came up, I got this sharp ache in my gut like I was one day closer to something.
One day closer to missing him more maybe. Or to finding him possibly. Or to never seeing him again . . .
I didn’t know what it was, but it was like a knife twisting my insides each and every morning, and each morning it was worse. As if each passing day the knife turned a notch, tangling into my viscera, becoming so enmeshed it was almost a part of me, and if I couldn’t relieve it soon, it would eventually rip me apart.
All I could do was pray that finding Tyler would be the cure.
I was desperate to see him one more time. To touch him or taste the mint on his breath. Each night I prayed for sleep . . . just so maybe I could dream of him.
But even without the dreams, I still saw his face every time I closed my eyes, with every blink . . . blink . . . blink. It was like my own personal hell, torturing myself with what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. My dreams had been replaced by pacing and journaling and drawing, anything to find some way to extinguish my guilt.
I was haunted by what I’d done, and by all the unanswered questions: What really happened to Tyler the night he vanished? Where had he gone?
Had he even survived?
Except the thing was, if the NSA really did have Tyler, the way their email said that they did, then they’d had him for weeks, because Jett had given me the numbers—the Returned always came back within forty-eight hours.
Well, everyone but me, of course. I had to go and be all different.
March to the beat of your own drummer, my dad always said.
Simon reached over and gripped my knee. I need you to do one thing for me.
He leaned closer so I could smell the peppermint on his breath. I’ll do everything I can to help you with this, but I need you to keep quiet about it for now. At least until I can talk to Jett and Willow and figure this thing out.
I nodded once, and he stood abruptly to go.
Simon,
I said, stopping him. His hand was on the doorjamb as he raised a dark eyebrow and looked down at me. I suddenly wished I hadn’t been so hard on him all this time. Thanks.
It didn’t seem like enough to say to someone who was about to risk so much for me and for Tyler, who he’d barely known at all, but it was all I had to offer him.
If Tyler’s really there, we’re gonna find him, Kyra. I swear we’ll get him back.
CHAPTER TWO
NATTY WAS THE EXACT POLAR OPPOSITE OF CAT, who used to swoop into a room and take up every spare iota of space with her energy until you sometimes felt it would suffocate you because there’d be no air left to breathe. Except, there always was, because Cat just had this way of making room for you.
Natty, on the other hand, moved like a shadow, to the point that you sometimes missed her if you weren’t paying attention. It probably should have freaked me out, the way she’d just out-of-the-blue clear her throat, letting you know she’d been there all along waiting for someone to notice her.
This time, Natty made a point of being noticed as she knocked at my door.
Oh, hey,
I said, which had become kind of our standard greeting. Like, Hey, I almost didn’t see you. Or Hey, you’re just sitting there, watching me . . . that’s not weird or anything.
Except, the thing was, it kinda wasn’t, not with Natty. It was just her way. Her quiet, reserved Natty way.
Hey. You left this.
She held out the journal I’d had with me in the old church-house dining hall when Jett busted in all bright-eyed, telling me I had to come with him when he’d first intercepted the NSA email about Tyler. Natty had been with me then, doing her Natty thing: making sure I actually ate something. She was like that, the mother hen type. She seemed to know what I needed, when I needed it. Ever since we’d arrived at Silent Creek, Natty had taken me under her wing. She understood me in ways no one else seemed to—knowing to stay quiet when I didn’t want to talk, or talking to fill the space when she somehow sensed the silence had grown unbearable.
We hadn’t known each other long, and we didn’t finish each other’s sentences or anything, but she didn’t have any expectations of me, and right now Natty was the closest thing I had to a friend.
Thanks,
I said, taking the journal from her outstretched hands. I ran my finger along the already worn cover, where I’d written: I’ll remember you always.
It was the same phrase Tyler had written in bold sidewalk chalk outside my house, right after I’d been returned, when he’d first told me he once had a crush on me.
While I hadn’t aged a