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I tried。
So many memories； all of them so colorful and sharp。 I saw a hundred places I’d never been； heard their
names for the first time。 A house in Los Angeles； lined with tall fronded trees。 A meadow in a forest； with
a tent and a fire； outside Winslow； Arizona。 A deserted rocky beach in Mexico。 A cave； the entrance
guarded by sheeting rain； somewhere in Oregon。 Tents； huts； rude shelters。 As time went on； the names
grew less specific。 She did not know where she was； nor did she care。
My name was now Wanderer； yet her memories fit it just as well as my own。 Except that my wandering
was by choice。 These flashes of memory were always tinged with the fear of the hunted。 Not wandering；
but running。
I tried not to feel pity。 Instead； I worked to focus the memories。 I didn’t need to see where she’d been；
only where she was going。 I sorted through the pictures that tied to the wordChicago； but none seemed
to be anything more than random images。 I widened my net。 What was outside Chicago？ Cold； I thought。
It was cold； and there was some worry about that。
Where？ I pushed； and the wall came back。
I exhaled in a gust。 “Outside the city—in the wilderness… a state park； away from any habitations。 It’s
not somewhere she’d been before； but she knew how to get there。”
“How soon？” the Seeker asked。
“Soon。” The answer came automatically。 “How long have I been here？”
“We let the host heal for nine days； just to be absolutely sure she was recovered；” the Healer told me。
“Insertion was today； the tenth day。”
Ten days。 My body felt a staggering wave of relief。
“Too late；” I said。 “For the rendezvous point… or even the note。” I could feel the host’s reaction to
this—could feel it much too strongly。 The host was almost…smug。 I allowed the words she thought to
be spoken； so that I could learn from them。 “He won’t be there。”
“He？” The Seeker pounced on the pronoun。 “Who？”
The black wall slammed down with more force than she’d used before。 She was the tiniest fraction of a
Again； the face filled my mind。 The beautiful face with the golden tan skin and the light…flecked eyes。 The
face that stirred a strange； deep pleasure within me while I viewed it so clearly in my mind。
Though the wall slapped into place with an acpanying sensation of vicious resentment； it was not fast
enough。
“Jared；” I answered。 As quickly as if it had e from me； the thought that was not mine followed the
name through my lips。 “Jared is safe。”
CHAPTER 4
Dreamed
It is too dark to be so hot； or maybe too hot to be so dark。 One of the two is out of place。
I crouch in the darkness behind the weak protection of a scrubby creosote bush； sweating out all the
water left in my body。 It’s been fifteen minutes since the car left the garage。 No lights have e on。 The
arcadia door is open two inches； letting the swamp cooler do its job。 I can imagine the feel of the moist；
cool air blowing through the screen。 I wish it could reach me here。
My stomach gurgles； and I clench my abdominal muscles to stifle the sound。 It is quiet enough that the
murmur carries。
I am so hungry。
There is another need that is stronger—another hungry stomach hidden safely far away in the darkness；
waiting alone in the rough cave that is our temporary home。 A cramped place； jagged with volcanic rock。
What will he do if I don’t e back？ All the pressure of motherhood with none of the knowledge or
experience。 I feel so hideously helpless。 Jamie is hungry。
There are no other houses close to this one。 I’ve been watching since the sun was still white hot in the
sky； and I don’t think there is a dog； either。
I ease up from my crouch； my calves screaming in protest； but keep hunched at the waist； trying to be
smaller than the bush。 The way up the wash is smooth sand； a pale pathway in the light of the stars。 There
are no sounds of cars on the road。
I know what they will realize when they return； the monsters who look like a nice couple in their early
fifties。 They will know exactly what I am； and the search will begin at once。 I need to be far away。 I really
hope they are going out for a night on the town。 I think it’s Friday。 They keep our habits so perfectly； it’s
hard to see any difference。 Which is how they won in the first place。
The fence around the yard is only waist high。 I get over easily； noiselessly。 The yard is gravel； though；
and I have to walk carefully to keep my weight from shifting it。 I make it to the patio slab。
The blinds are open。 The starlight is enough to see that the rooms are empty of movement。 This couple
goes for a spartan look； and I’m grateful。 It makes it harder for someone to hide。 Of course； that leaves
no place for me to hide； either； but if it es to hiding for me； it’s too late anyway。
The cool air feels like heaven。
The kitchen is to my left。 I can see the gleam of granite counters。
I pull the canvas bag from my shoulder and start with the refrigerator。 There is a moment of anxiety as
the light es on when the door opens； but I find the button and hold it down with my toe。 My eyes are
blind。 I don’t have time to let them adjust。 I go by feel。
Milk； cheese slices； leftovers in a plastic bowl。 I hope it’s the chicken…and…rice thing I watched him
cooking for dinner。 We’ll eat this tonight。
Juice； a bag of apples。 Baby carrots。 These will stay good till morning。
I hurry to the pantry。 I need things that will keep longer。
I can see better as I gather as much as I can carry。 Mmm； chocolate chip cookies。 I’m dying to open the
bag right now； but I grit my teeth and ignore the twist of my empty stomach。
The bag gets heavy too quickly。 This will last us only a week； even if we’re careful with it。 And I don’t
feel like being careful； I feel like gorging。 I shove granola bars into my pockets。
One more thing。 I hurry to the sink and refill my canteen。 Then I put my head under the flow and gulp
straight from the stream。 The water makes odd noises when it hits my hollow stomach。
I start to feel panicked now that my job is done。 I want to be out of here。 Civilization is deadly。
I watch the floor on my way out； worried about tripping with my heavy bag； which is why I don’t see the
silhouetted black figure on the patio until my hand is on the door。
I hear his mumbled oath at the same time that a stupid squeak of fear escapes my mouth。 I spin to sprint
for the front door； hoping the locks are not latched； or at least not difficult。
I don’t even get two steps before rough； hard hands grab my shoulders and wrench me back against his
body。 Too big； too strong to be a woman。 The bass voice proves me right。
“One sound and you die；” he threatens gruffly。 I am shocked to feel a thin； sharp edge pushing into the
skin under my jaw。
I don’t understand。 I shouldn’t be given a choice。 Who is this monster？ I’ve never heard of one who
would break rules。 I answer the only way I can。
“Do it；” I spit through my teeth。 “Just do it。 I don’t want to be a filthy parasite！”
I wait for the knife； an