I wished I didn't know what Martin's story was.

Chubs slapped the side of the minivan. "Don't tell me you believe that, Lee. We knew everyone by the time we broke out."

Broke out. They actually escaped? Shock left me speechless for several moments until I asked, finally, "Really? All three thousand of them?"

The boys took a step back at the same time.

"You had three thousand kids at your camp?" Liam asked.

"Why?" I looked between them, unnerved. "How many were in your camp?

"Three hundred at most," Liam said. "Are you sure? Three thousand?"

"Well, it's not like they gave us an official number. There were thirty kids per cabin and about a hundred of those. There used to be more, but they sent the Reds, Oranges, and Yellows away."

Apparently, I had blown his mind. Liam let out a strangled noise at the back of his throat. "Holy crap," he finally managed to squeeze out. "What camp was it?"

"It's none of your business," I said. "I'm not asking you where you were."

"We were in Caledonia, Ohio," Chubs said, ignoring a sharp look from Liam. "They stuck us in an abandoned elementary school. We broke out. Your turn."

"Why, so you can report me to the nearest PSF station?"

"Yeah, because, clearly, we'd be able to stroll up and lodge a sighting report."

After a moment, I blew out a harsh breath. "Fine. I was in Thurmond."

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on longer than the road beneath us.

"Are you serious?" Liam asked, finally. "Crazy Thurmond, with the FrankenKiddies?"

"They've stopped testing," I said, feeling strangely defensive.

"No, I just-I just..." Liam raced through the words. "I thought it was all filled up, you know? That's why they bused us to Ohio."

"How old were you when you went into camp?" Chubs's voice was measured, but I saw his face fall all the same. "You were young, right?"

The answer popped out before I could stop myself. "The day after my tenth birthday."

Liam blew out a low whistle, and I wondered exactly how much of Thurmond's reputation had leaked out in the time I had been there. Who were the ones talking about it-the former PSFs assigned there?

And, if people knew, why hadn't anyone come to help us?

"How long were you guys in Caledonia?"

"Suzume was there for about two years. I was there for a year and a half, and Lee was there for a year or so."

"That's..." A small, ugly voice inside my head whispered, That's it? even as the better part of me knew full well that it didn't matter if they had been there for one year or one day-a minute in one of those camps was enough to smash you into pieces.

"And you're what, sixteen? Seventeen?"

"I don't know," I said, and the thought nearly knocked me back against the van. I really wasn't sure-Sam had claimed it was six years, but she could have been wrong. We didn't keep track of time at Thurmond in the usual way; I recognized seasons passing, but somewhere along the line I had stopped trying to mark it. I grew bigger, I knew every winter that I must be another year older, but none of it...it just hadn't seemed to matter until now. "What year is it?"

Chubs snorted, rolling his eyes heavenward. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped once he got a good look at my face. I'm not sure what kind of expression I was wearing, but it erased his exasperation in two seconds flat. His narrowed eyes widened into something that looked very much like pity.

And Liam...his expression seemed to dissolve entirely.

I felt the hair on my neck begin to prickle, my fingers twist the fabric of my uniform shorts. The absolute last thing-the last thing-I wanted was to be pitied by a bunch of strangers. Regret washed down through me, flooding out even my anxiety and fear. I shouldn't have said anything at all; I should have lied or dodged the question. Whatever they thought Thurmond was like, whatever they believed I'd gone through, it was bad enough to mark me as pathetic in their eyes. I could see it in their faces, and the irony stung more than I expected it to. They'd taken in a monster, thinking it was a mouse.

"Sixteen, then," I said, once Liam had confirmed the year. Sam had been right after all.

Something else was bothering me. "They're still creating new camps and sending kids to them?"

"Not so much anymore," Liam said. "The younger set-Zu's age-they were hit the hardest. People got scared, and the birthrate dropped off even before the government tried banning new births. Most of the kids that are still being sent to camps are like us. They escaped detection during collections or tried to run."

I nodded, mulling this over.

"At Thurmond," Chubs began, "did they really-"

"I think that's enough," Liam interrupted. He reached past Chubs's outstretched arm and opened the sliding door for me again. "She answered your questions, we answered hers, and now we've gotta hit the road while the going is still good."

Zu climbed in first, and, without looking at either boy, I followed, heading to the rear seat, where I could stretch out and hide from any more unwanted questions.

Chubs took the front passenger seat, throwing one last look back at me. His full lips were pressed so tight together they were colorless. Eventually, he turned his attention to the book in his lap and pretended that I wasn't there at all.

Black Betty purred as Liam hit the accelerator and my entire body vibrated with her. She was the only one willing to speak for a long time.

The rain was still coming down, casting a gray light around the car. The windows had fogged, and for a minute I did nothing but watch the rain. Car headlights were flashing through the front windshield, but it was nowhere near dark.

Chubs eventually turned the radio on, filling the quiet space with a report about America's gas crisis and the drilling that was happening in Alaska as a result. If I wasn't already halfway to sleep, the droning from the humorless newscaster would have put me there.

"Hey, Green," Liam called back. "You have a last name?"

I thought about lying, about making myself into someone that I wasn't, but it didn't seem right. Even if I let these people in, they'd forget about me soon enough.

"No," I said. I had a Psi number and the name I'd inherited from my grandmother. The rest didn't matter.

Liam turned back to the road, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "Got it."

I dropped back down on the seat, pressing my hands against my face. Sleep came for me eventually, just as the storm clouds peeled back to reveal a pristine night sky. Without the sound of rain, I could just make out the quiet song floating from the car speakers, and Liam's deep voice as he sang along.

TEN.

CHUBS WAS THE ONE TO WAKE ME. It was a quick slap to my shoulder, like he couldn't bring himself to touch it long enough to put the effort into shaking me, but it was enough. I had been curled like a shrimp on one of the cramped seats, but at his touch, I bolted out of it, knocking my head against the window. I felt its cold touch on the back of my neck as I all but tumbled in the narrow space between the front seat and mine. For a single, foggy instant, I couldn't remember where I was, never mind how I had gotten there.

Chubs's face crossed back into my line of sight, one eyebrow arched at my tangle of limbs. And then it all came back to me, like a punch to the throat.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, I thought, trying to smooth my dark hair out of my face. I had only meant to rest my eyes for a few minutes-and who knows how long I'd been conked out? Judging by Chubs's expression, it hadn't been a short nap.

"Don't you think you've slept long enough?" he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. The van felt warmer, and I didn't realize why until I sat up and saw the dark blue fabric that had been strung up to cover the rear windshield.

The reality of the situation struck me at once, with a sharp twist in my side. I'd left myself wide open in a van of strangers-so wide open, in fact, that Chubs had been able to put a hand on me. God, I didn't know which of us had come out luckier in the end-him, for not having his brain wiped clean, or me for avoiding yet another potential disaster. How stupid could I be? The second they knew what I was, they'd throw me out, and then where would I be? Speaking of which...

"Where are we?" I pulled myself back up into the seat. "Where are the others?"

Chubs sat in one of the middle seats, dividing his time between the book in his lap and the world of trees just outside the tinted car window. I moved, trying to follow his gaze, but there was nothing to see.

"Somewhere near the lovely city of Kingwood, West Virginia. Lee and Suzume are checking something out," he said.

I had leaned forward without realizing it, trying to see what he was reading. It'd been years since I'd even seen a book, let alone read from one. Chubs wasn't having it, though. The moment my shoulder brushed his, he snapped the book shut and turned to give me the nastiest stink eye he could muster. Even with his too-small glasses and my knowledge of his little fancy lady kit under the front seat, I reminded myself there was a distinct possibility he was capable of killing me with his brain.

"How long did I sleep?"

"A day," Chubs said. "The general wants you up and ready to report to duty. He's in one of his go-go-go moods. You may only be a Green, but he's expecting you to help."

I chose my next words carefully, ignoring the smug look on his face. Let him think that if it made him feel better. He was smarter; there was no debate about that. He probably had years of education on me, had read hundreds more books, and could remember enough math to actually be useful. But as small and stupid as he made me feel, there was no ignoring the fact that all it would take is one touch, and I could have read him the contents of his brain.

"Liam's a Blue, right?" I began. "Are you and Zu both Blue, too?"

"No." He frowned, and it took him several moments to decide whether or not to reveal his next bit of information. "Suzume's Yellow."

I sat up a little straighter. "You had Yellows at your camp?"

Chubs grunted. "No Green, I just lied to you-yes, we had Yellows."

But that didn't make sense-after all, if they took the Yellows out of Thurmond, why wouldn't they have taken them from all the camps?

"Did..." I began, unsure of how to ask this. When she first pulled me into the van, I thought she was just shy and skittish around strangers. But I hadn't heard her utter a single word in the entire time I had been with them. Not to me, not to Chubs-not even to Liam. "Did they...do something to the Yellows? To her?"

The only way the van's atmosphere could have electrified faster was if I had thrown a live wire into a full bathtub.

Chubs turned toward me sharply, drawing his arms up, crossing them in front of his chest. The look he leveled at me over his glasses would have turned a weaker soul to stone.

"That," he said slowly-precisely, I thought, to make sure I understood, "is absolutely none of your business."

I held up my hands, retreating.

"Were you even thinking about what could happen to her when you followed her?" he pressed on. "Do you even care that your friends in the green SUV would have gladly scooped her up?"

"The people in the green SUV-" I began, and would have finished, had the door not suddenly rolled open behind us. Chubs let out a noise that could only be described as a squawk and just about flew into the front passenger seat. By the time he had settled himself down, his eyes were almost as wide as Zu's, who stood watching him from the door.

"Don't do that!" he gasped, clutching his chest. "Give us a little warning, will you?"

Zu raised an eyebrow in my direction, and I raised one right back at her. After a moment, she seemed to remember the reason she had come and began waving us outside, her bright, sunny-color glove flashing.

Chubs unbuckled his seat belt with an aggravated sigh. "I told him this was a waste of time. They said Virginia, not West Virginia." He turned his gaze back toward me. "By the way," he added, "that SUV was tan. That's some photographic memory you have."

An excuse leaped to my throat, but he cut me off with a knowing look, and slammed the door behind him.

I jumped out of the van and followed Zu. As my feet sunk into the mud and sad, yellowed grass, I had my first good look around.

A large wooden sign, leaning back like someone had nearly run it over, said EAST RIVER CAMPING GROUNDS, but there was no river, and it certainly wasn't your typical camping ground. If anything, it was-or once was-an old trailer and RV park.

The farther we walked from the minivan, the more nervous I felt. It wasn't raining, but my skin felt clammy and cold to the touch. All around us, as far as my eyes could see, were the burned-out silver and white husks of former homes and vehicles. Several of the larger, more permanent trailers had entire walls ripped or charred away, revealing kitchens and living rooms with their insides still intact, if not waterlogged and infested with animals and slowly rotting leaves from the nearby trees. It was like a mass grave of past lives.

Even though screen doors had been ripped off or warped, even though some RVs knelt on whatever tires had been slashed, there were still signs of life all around. Walls were decorated with pictures of happy and smiling families, a grandfather clock was still counting time, pots were still on stoves, a small swing set remained undisturbed and lonely on the far end of the grounds.

Zu and I navigated around an RV that was now on its side, following a path of deep footsteps in the mud. I took one look at the RV's rusted bones and immediately turned away, my hand tightening around Zu's gloves. She looked up at me with a questioning look, but I only shook my head and said, "Spooky."

When the rain came, it hammered against the metal bodies around us, rattling a few of the weaker roofs and screens. I jumped back with a yelp when a trailer's door fell into our path. Zu only jumped over it and pointed ahead, to where Chubs and Liam were locked in conversation.

It had taken me a second to recognize Liam. Under his jacket, he wore a blue sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over what looked like a Redskins hat. I had no idea where he managed to find them, but a pair of aviator sunglasses obscured a good portion of his face from view.

"-isn't it," Chubs said. "I told you."

"They said it was at the east edge of the state," Liam insisted. "And they could have meant West Virginia-"

"Or they could have been screwing with us," Chubs finished for him. He must have heard us approaching, because he jumped and turned around. The moment he locked eyes with me, he scowled.

"Mornin', sunshine!" Liam called. "Sleep okay?"

Zu darted out ahead of me, but I could feel my feet begin to drag with an invisible weight as I came toward them. I crossed my arms over my chest, steadying myself enough to ask, "What is this place?"

This time, it was Liam who blew out a sigh. "Well, we were hoping it was East River. The East River, I mean."

"That's in Virginia," I said, looking down at my shoes. "The peninsula. It empties into the Chesapeake Bay."

"Thank you Detective Duh." Chubs shook his head. "We're talking about the Slip Kid's East River."

"Hey." Liam's voice was sharp. "Lay off, buddy. We really didn't know anything about it until we were out of camp, either."

Chubs crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. "Whatever."

"What is it?"

I felt Liam turn his attention back to me, which immediately prompted me to turn my attention back to Zu, who mostly just looked confused. Get a grip, I ordered myself, stop it.

I wasn't afraid of them, not even Chubs. Maybe a bit when I thought too hard about how easily I could ruin their lives, or pictured their horrified reactions if they were to figure out what, exactly, I was. I just didn't know what to say or how to act around them. Every movement and word on my part felt uncomfortable, shrill, or sharp, and I was beginning to worry that the feelings of hesitancy and awkwardness were never going to lift. I already felt like the freak of freaks without the added realization that I lacked the basic ability of communicating normally with other human beings.

Liam sighed, scratching the back of his head. "We first heard about East River from some kids in our camp. Supposedly-and I mean supposedly-it's a place where any kids on the outside can go and live together. The Slip Kid, who runs the show, can get you in touch with your folks without the PSFs finding out about it. There's food, a place to sleep-well, you get the picture. The problem is finding it. We think it's somewhere in this area, thanks to a few fairly unhelpful Blues we ran across in Ohio. It's the kind of thing that..."

"If you're in the know, you're not supposed to talk about it," I finished. "But who's the Slip Kid?"