Free Soulprint by Megan Miranda Page B

but I cannot sleep. I eventually hear Dom’s breath go slow and steady, and then I see Casey stand up and tiptoe over to Cameron’s mattress. I see them lying side by side, and I hear faint whispering, and I want to shut them out. In this basement, with three other people, freer than I’ve ever been, I have never felt so alone. I put the pillow over my head, and I hear nothing but my own breathing.
    And then I listen for my mother, who I believe is alive somewhere out there. I wonder if she’s seen the news. If she’s somewhere nearby. If she’s in the country still, if she knows that I am out.
I am out
.
    Duérmete, mi niña, duérmete, mi amor, duérmete, y nos vemos en la tierra de sueños
…
    There’s light from across the room. I wake up completely disoriented. Where are the walls, keeping me in, keeping me safe? Where is the window, with the perfect angle past the tree to the sky? My bed with a space carved out for me, my mother’s picture seven paces away, the world with me at its axis?
    I feel the hard ground as I shift on the thin mattress, and the walls are gray and cold. There is no window. I feel as if I do not exist.
    I see Casey, hunched in a ball in front of the silent television. Her face is on the screen. They show it from every angle. They show the explosion, the smoke, people scrambling to their feet, running at an angle across the screen—the camera on the ground somewhere.
    Casey is rocking slowly, back and forth in front of the television. I walk silently across the floor—I am good at moving silently—and I see a tear track down the side of her face. I don’t know whether to say something or pretend I don’t notice, but before I can decide, she seems to catch sight of my reflection on the screen.
    She jumps to standing, then puts a hand on her heart before wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. “You scared me to death,” she whispers, then shakes her head to herself and shrugs at me with one shoulder. “Long day, you know?” she says as explanation.
    I point to the television. “Do they know anything? Did they follow us?” I whisper.
    She puts her finger to her lips. Comes closer. Her fingers brush my arm as she goes to hold my shoulder, and I jump. She narrows her eyes and leans closer, as I lean back. “What have they done to you, Alina Chase?”
    But I don’t understand what she means.
    She steps back, moves her hand away from me, and whispers, “They found the tracker, but that’s it. Haven’t mentioneda thing about Cameron.” I catch a faint smile, and then it’s gone. “He came in with the media. His name—well, the name he was going by—was on the list, and he joined them on the other side of the bridge. But he doesn’t belong to any of them. The guards probably think he’s media, and the media think he’s a guard. Nobody misses him yet. They’re backtracking now. Looking for what really happened. But it’s still dark. In the daylight, they’ll probably find the discarded air tanks.” She looks at her watch, the same one that Dominic and Cameron have. “We’ll be gone by then.”
    As if on cue, there’s some sort of vibration coming from Dominic’s mattress. He jerks up, presses his finger to his watch, and quickly scans the room. Casey’s body goes rigid beside me, and I feel mine do the same in response. He’s on his feet as soon as he sees us. “What are you doing?” he asks, but he’s looking at Casey, not me.
    She feigns indifference. Slouches. Puts a hand on her hip. “She has to go to the bathroom,” she says, like it’s obvious.
    â€œAnd you were going to
take her
?” he asks incredulously. Dominic looms over us both—I have to tilt my head up just to watch his face. By now, Cameron is awake as well, and also on his feet.
    â€œDoes it look like I’m