Sanctuary Bay (31 page)

“Locate Ethan,” she told it. She smiled when she saw the yellow dot. He was on his way to Dr. Diaz's office, which was exactly where she had decided to go.

“Sarah, I wasn't expecting you,” Dr. Diaz said when she arrived. The place was empty, and Dr. Diaz was just closing the door to his private office. Sarah caught a glimpse of Ethan inside.

“I was looking for Ethan,” she said. “Am I not supposed to be here? You're acting all secretive.”

Dr. Diaz laughed. “No, you can be here. In fact, I'm glad you are. But we're still going to be secretive. Come in.” He waved her in, glancing around the waiting area behind her before closing the door.

Ethan sat in the only available guest chair. He nodded at her. Sarah picked up the stack of files covering the other chair, plopped them on the floor, and sat down.

Dr. Diaz sat behind the desk. Then he stood up again abruptly, turning to look out the window.

“What's going on?” Sarah asked Ethan.

“Dr. Diaz here asked me to go back to the asylum last night to gather some bottles of Bromcyan. Which I did, and then I went to grab some coffee, and then I came back here to find him acting like a perturbed squirrel.”

Dr. Diaz laughed, the spell he was under broken, and sat back down. “Sorry about that. I did something, well, let's just say it's not entirely legal. And that puts me into perturbed squirrel mode. I'm not cut out for a life of crime.”

“I'm confused,” Sarah said. “As usual lately.”

“When Nate's body was recovered yesterday, they brought him to the infirmary. We don't … we don't have a morgue.” Dr. Diaz shook his head sadly. “Who would've thought we would need one.”

“So he's there now?” Sarah felt a painful lump form in her throat.

“His body is being transported to the mainland later today. Which is why I had to act fast to do the test, and luckily Ethan likes to prowl around the island in the middle of the night.”

“What test?” Ethan asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“I used the traces of Bromcyan you found to reverse engineer a test that would show its presence.”

Sarah felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because we won't understand what happens in Izzy's treatments unless we know—
really
know—whether the Bromcyan is responsible for her amnesia concerning Karina. And then I wondered…”

“You wondered whether the rest of the Wolfpack was being dosed too,” Sarah put in. “Because they have the same memory block when it comes to Karina.”

“I had a Wolfpack member right here, one who would never tell the dean I was testing his blood,” Dr. Diaz said slowly.

“Shouldn't you have tested Nate's body for drugs, anyway?” Ethan asked.

“Yes, of course, and I did. But the police lab is on the mainland, and the results won't be back for six weeks. But the Bromcyan test is one I wanted the answer to right away. I snuck a sample of Nate's back to the chem lab and processed it this morning. It was positive.”

“Nate had Bromcyan in his body?” Sarah cried out. She turned to Ethan. “I told you it was like he was hearing voices right before he jumped. Dr. Diaz, was Nate mentally ill? Was he getting the same treatment Izzy did?”

“I can't breach any student's confidentiality,” Dr. Diaz said. “But I would have been surprised to hear that Nate was receiving such a treatment.”

“So he wasn't.” Ethan slumped back, blowing out a frustrated breath.

“Then how did he get Bromcyan?” Sarah asked.

“That's the question,” Ethan gave her a little half smile. “We don't know how anyone in the Wolfpack got it. Kinda feels like we're chasing our tails.”

Suddenly all their cells lit up with a school-wide message. “There's an assembly in ten minutes in the theater. A memorial for Nate,” Sarah announced, reading it. “Mandatory.”

“That means it's mandatory for me too.” Dr. Diaz pushed his chair back and shooed them away. “You two go ahead. Don't tell anyone what we discussed.”

No one would believe us anyhow,
Sarah thought.

*   *   *

Rain lashed at the window, and the wind howled. The room smelled acidic, like evergreens that had been burned. Sarah couldn't tell if she was just imagining it or not. She could barely tell if she was awake or asleep. It had been such a strange day, with a long memorial service in the morning, and a sort of gigantic group therapy, antisuicide workshop in the afternoon. All the talk had been sad.

Nate was gone. They'd watched the black boat push off with his remains, bobbing on the choppy water. Nate had loved that boat, with its sleek power. It made Sarah feel a little better to think of him getting another ride on it.

It had rained all day, which was appropriate.
But enough is enough,
she thought, turning over again, unable to sleep.

“Stop thrashing around,” Izzy complained, her voice muffled with sleep.

“The wind is really loud.”

“Yeah, well, there's a nor'easter coming. We're on a tiny island in the ocean. This is how it sounds.” Izzy rolled to face the wall, and within minutes Sarah heard her steady breathing. Karina would've gotten up and sat with her, talking about the Ferocious Beast. Karina would've cracked jokes about how the wind sounded like a bad effect in some lame horror movie. Sarah sighed. When Karina was here, everything had been so great. Life at Sanctuary Bay had been beyond anything Sarah could have imagined.

Sarah had been happy.

Her bed felt like it was whirling around her. She was so tired. The air smelled of oranges and limes now, with only a hint of the burned scent from before.

I'm sleeping,
she thought
. I'm dreaming about being asleep
. She didn't know when she'd fallen asleep, but she must have, because a man was in their room, and she hadn't seen the door open.

Sarah watched him glide across the floor, fascinated by how quiet his movements were. The man wore black, and he was thin. In the darkness she couldn't tell his race or his eye color, but he was coming closer so maybe she'd see then.

Her eyes closed, and she smiled, thinking about how weird it was that you could go to sleep in a dream. She was dreaming now, but she was dreaming about closing her eyes. Could she dream about opening them?

Her eyes popped open. The man stood directly above her bed with his hand on her arm, holding it still. Something in his hand flashed a dull silver in the moonlight. A word formed in Sarah's head: “syringe.” He plunged it toward her arm.

Izzy's entire body slammed against him, knocking him over. The syringe clattered to the floor.

Sarah bolted upright, her heart pounding. This was no dream. Never had been.

“Get out! Get away!” Izzy was screaming. She'd straddled the guy and was slamming her fists into his face, over and over. He grabbed one of Izzy's wrists and twisted until she cried out in pain.

Sarah jumped out of bed and snatched the syringe from the floor, holding it like a weapon.

The guy shoved Izzy off him and got to his knees. Izzy grabbed Sarah's bedside lamp and hurled it at his head. There was a sickening thump as it hit him, and he stumbled against the bed. Without hesitation, Izzy picked up the lamp again, yanked the cord from the wall, and wrapped it around the guy's neck.

Lights,
Sarah thought, stunned.
It's too dark.

“Turn on—” Her voice was a croak. Sarah swallowed hard and tried again. “Turn on lights!” Spots danced in front of her stunned eyes as the overheads came on. Izzy had her knee on the guy's chest, pinning him against the bed while she tightened the cord around his neck. His eyes bulged, and his boots scraped against the floor as he tried to get free.

“Izzy, no!” Sarah screamed.

Izzy jerked her head toward Sarah, and Sarah gasped. Her roommate's eyes were lit with excitement. This was Izzy-in-the-woods. Izzy-the-murderer. So many times, Sarah had wondered if she'd imagined that girl, but here she was again.

She's going to kill him.

Sarah rushed toward them, lifted the syringe, and plunged it into the man's arm, pushing down the stopper. The guy's wild eyes—brown, Sarah saw now—turned to her for a brief second. Then his eyelids fluttered and he stopped fighting.

Sarah left the syringe in his arm and grabbed Izzy, prying her away from him, forcing the cord out of her grip. “Izzy, stop it. Stop! He's sedated. He's out.”

Izzy stared down at him, breathing hard. “He broke into our room,” she said. “He deserves it.” She reached for the cord again.

“You can't kill him,” Sarah insisted, tightening her grip.

“Yes I can,” Izzy growled.

Izzy-the-murderer. It's who she really is, just like I thought after that hideous night at the Pine Tree.

But this time Izzy-the-murderer had saved her life.

“Let's go,” she said, taking Izzy by the arm. “We have to get out of here before someone else comes.” She didn't wait for an argument, but yanked her roommate to her feet and dragged her out the bedroom door. Sarah jumped when her eye snagged on a dark shadow, but it was just the black tree decorating the living room wall. She kept a tight hold on Izzy as she crept to the door, inched it open, and peered out into the hallway.

“What are we doing?”

“There will be more. He came from the school. He must have,” Sarah said. “Come on.” She hauled Izzy out into the hall and they both ran.

Sarah had no idea what time it was. The corridors were empty, the whole place silent except for their loud breathing. But Sarah felt as if there were eyes on her every step to Ethan's room.

She pounded on his door. It felt like forever until he yanked it open, angry. One look at Sarah and Izzy wiped the glare off his face. “What happened?”

Sarah pulled Izzy inside as Ethan closed the door quickly behind them. “There was a man in our room. He had a syringe, and he tried to inject me. Izzy—”

“Izzy beat the shit out of him,” Izzy cut in. She smiled at Ethan, plopping down on his bed.

“What?” He gaped at Sarah.

“She did. She saved me—I thought I was dreaming when I saw him. It was strange. Maybe because I was so exhausted,” Sarah said. “Then Izzy almost killed him.”

“But she didn't?” he asked in a low voice.

“No. I stabbed him with his own syringe,” Sarah explained. “I guess it was a sedative. He passed out immediately.”

Izzy picked up a magazine from the nightstand, and calmly started flipping through it.

“Why would someone want to sedate you in your room?” Ethan's voice held all the fear that Sarah had been avoiding feeling.

“I don't know.” Her legs buckled from under her, and Ethan grabbed her.

“It's the school. Who else could it be?” he muttered. “We have to go.”

“Where?” Sarah cried. “If the school is sending people to attack us, we're dead. There are no police here, nobody to save us. The school is the only authority.”

“If the school is sending people to attack
you
, then I'm next,” Ethan pointed out. “We've been nosing around, and they noticed. So we have to get out of my room. Now.”

“I'm with him, since killing seems not to be acceptable. We need to get out of here,” Izzy said, tossing the magazine aside. “But I'm wearing pj's. Ethan? Jacket?”

“Of course,” he said, rushing over to the closet. He grabbed a few sweatshirts and jackets and tossed them to Sarah and Izzy, then pulled a thick sweater over his own head.

Sarah hadn't even realized she was still in the yoga pants and T-shirt she used as pajamas. She pulled on Ethan's sweatshirt, the smell of him washing over her.

“What about shoes?” Izzy asked. “I'm in socks. So are you, Sarah.”

“Mine will be too big on you,” Ethan said.

“Well, we can't go back to our room,” Sarah replied. “Just give me some sneakers.”

Ethan threw them each a pair, and Sarah tightened them as much as she could. She would just have to hope they stayed on.

“Do you have your cell?” Ethan asked.

“No. I don't have anything. We just ran,” Sarah replied.

“Izzy?”

Izzy shook her head.

“Good,” Ethan said. He tossed his cell onto the bed. “No cells.”

Sarah felt a cold, numbing dread seep over her, replacing the panic and fear of the past ten minutes. Ethan was right. The cells could be used to track them, and they were running for their lives. Running away from Sanctuary Bay.

“Let's go.” Ethan held out his hand to her.

“Go where?” she whispered, but she already knew the answer.

“We have to get off this island,” Ethan said. “Now.”

 

17

“How are we going to get off?” Sarah asked through chattering teeth. The rain was freezing, and the wind whipped the words away so fast that she had to yell just to be heard.

“There's an old dock down at the beach in front of the asylum,” Ethan yelled over the storm. “The security guys keep a dinghy there sometimes.”

“So why didn't you ever steal it and leave?” Izzy asked. Her blond hair flew around crazily in the wind.

“It was always guarded, sort of.” Ethan bent over, peering closely in the dark at the ground to follow the thin trail that led to the asylum. “Every time I went, there were security people asleep in it, or smoking, or having sex.”

“We can't steal their dinghy if they're always watching it. They'll catch us,” Sarah protested.

“I doubt they'll be out in this storm,” Ethan replied. “It's our best hope.”

“Even if someone's there, they won't be expecting company. And there are three of us,” Izzy said. “We can take them out and steal the boat. Of course … we'll drown in this weather. Nor'easter. Dinghy.”