with Lara.
Over the fireplace to his left hung a giant black-and-white photograph of a man, ironically, standing in the exact spot where the picture now lived. The subject bore a vague resemblance to Cal, he thought, same privileged smile and casually coiffed hair.
“Daniel Crawford?”
Dan started, feeling a clammy breath rush right against the side of his neck. Turning, Dan found the staring black-haired volunteer standing so close to his shoulder they were practically touching. His breath smelled of an old tuna sandwich.
“Can … Can I help you?” Dan stammered, finding that even when he took a step back, the boy followed. His eyes, Dan noted, didn’t just look glassy but hollow.
“Daniel Crawford.” It wasn’t a question now, but a statement.
“Uh, yes, that’s me. What’s up?”
“Daniel Crawford … Daniel Crawford …” The host repeated his name over and over again, each time louder, a note of hysteria and then panic pitching his voice higher and higher. “Daniel Crawford. DANIEL CRAWFORD.”
Dan reeled back, knocking into the couch behind him and slamming down into it so hard his jaw rattled.
“Jeez, what the—”
The rest of the room heard the commotion and suddenly they had an audience. Dan scrambled back deeper into the couch, convinced the weird kid was going to start crawling all over him.
“Daniel Crawford … Daniel Crawford … You’re not finished. Daniel Crawford, you’re not finished, not yet …”
“Stop it! STOP SAYING THAT!” Dan hoped his own screaming would drown out the boy’s voice. For a second, it did. Then the boy went quiet, smiled a strange, sad smile at Dan, and said softly, “You’re not finished, Daniel Crawford. Time is running out, Daniel, and you’re not finished. Get out, get out of here now, go, go …” He clutched his head, grimacing.
Above the noise he heard Cal’s voice across the room, his snapping fingers … “Hey!” Cal was shouting. “Hey! Doug! Snap out of it! Wake up!”
Then as if in slow motion, Dan watched the boy scramble onto the next couch over, shoulder open the window, punch out the screen, and throw himself toward the cold open space.
Dan froze. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he needed to help, but none of his limbs responded when he tried to move.
Someone screamed, maybe Abby, and then Dan came to. The black-haired boy hadn’t quite managed to fit himself through the window with his first try, and one arm and half a sneaker were still visible hooked around the ledge. With a grunt, Dan shot forward, leaping onto the couches and grabbing what could still be seen of the host. Dan heaved backward with all his weight. The two of them crashed to the floor, and in the time it took Dan to draw his next breath, Cal and Lara were there to help wrestle the boy to the ground.
A hand closed around Dan’s right biceps and squeezed. He started away violently.
“It’s me! It’s just me!” Abby was there at his side, peering down into his face with concern. “What happened? Why was he screaming at you?”
“Back up!” Cal thundered, standing and pushing curious onlookers out of the way. “Give him some air! Give us some room … Jesus, Doug.”
Micah arrived and helped Lara pull the boy to his feet. The boy didn’t fight them, going limp as a rag doll in their hands. They dragged him toward the door, Cal herding prospies out of the way as they went. The other hosts tried as best they could to keep order, but as soon as the door shut, the room exploded with noise.
“What the hell?” Jordan trotted up to them, pale and staring. “Did he just try to hurl himself out a window?”
“I—I think so.” Shaking, Dan blinked and passed a hand over his face, feeling a cold sweat along his forehead and nose. “He just kept saying my name. I don’t get it. I’ve never seen him before, I don’t know how he knew who I was …”
“Are you all right?” Abby knelt, touching his knee gently. “Guys, this is bad. We’ve been here all of ten minutes and—”
“It’s not like Dan did anything,” Jordan interrupted. “But you’re right. This was probably a mistake, coming back here. Dan, what do you think? Should we just pack it in now? I can call my folks. It would take some explaining but they’d probably let you stay if Abby came, too.”
“No.” Even now, even when he kind of wanted to go, Dan knew it wasn’t an option. He didn’t really believe it himself, but he said, “Maybe it was a prank?”
“A prank?” Abby stood up suddenly, throwing her hands in the air. “Dan, get real.”
“What? I don’t know what to tell you, Abby. Let’s just … Let’s just all stay calm. We only just got here. Our hosts helped take him away, right? I’ll ask Micah what happened later and we can get some answers.” Dan stared up into her eyes, silently pleading. He couldn’t do this alone, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. He wanted them here.
“People are staring,” Dan told them, inhaling deeply. “We have to decide now—stay or go.”
Abby chewed her lower lip furiously, twining a piece of dark hair around one finger. She glanced at Jordan, who was still worrying the puzzle paper in his hand.
“I at least want to see Lucy,” Abby said. “I want to do that much. I’m not sure when I’ll be back here from New York again.”
“And I actually do want to see what those addresses are about,” Jordan added. “Not exactly dying to get back to Richmond and the parental lockdown, so we stay, I guess.”
Dan breathed a sigh of relief and got to his feet—shakily, but he got there. The remaining hosts gathered up the prospies, preparing to take them down to the Commons for lunch. Dan wondered when he would see Micah again.
“Let’s stick with the others,” Dan said. He kept wanting to stare at the still-open window, but forced himself not to. “We can discuss how we’re going to start over lunch.”
“We’ll have to find some way to sneak off,” Abby whispered as they fell in with the other prospies. “Lucy doesn’t live far from campus, but I have a feeling our hosts are supposed to keep tabs on us constantly.”
“Maybe if we can get to her place she can tell us about some of the addresses from Felix,” Jordan suggested. That was a big ask, Dan thought, considering how fragile Lucy had been the last time they’d seen her. They shuffled out of the lounge and into the hall, following the trail of kids and hosts to the stairwell at the far end of the corridor.
“I think that’s up to Abby,” he said, giving her a quick glance. “She can judge better if Lucy is in any condition to talk about that kind of thing.”
“Thanks, Dan, I … I think that’s a good call. Give me some time to consider it.”
When they stepped outside, Dan pulled up his coat around his neck, shivering.
“I’m just saying, she’s been here for like ever, right?” Jordan said. He tried to smooth out the sudoku puzzle in his palms, then gave up and shoved it in his jeans pocket. “She might have heard rumors, or, I don’t know. She just seems like the best authority on Brookline we have right now.”
“And she also just lost her husband and had her whole traumatic childhood shoved in her face, so she probably won’t want to talk about Brookline at all,” Abby shot back hotly. “Jeez, Jordan, I want to figure this out as much as you two do, but not at the expense of my aunt’s peace of