Free Thornhill (Hemlock) by Kathleen Peacock

smile, I handed her my sample.
    Mel frowned as she took the envelope, then focused her attention back on the guards as they hauled the boy—now unconscious—out of the room. “He has trouble around blood,” she said, her voice a faint croak.
    There’s an understatement , I thought.
    I turned and headed for the cart.
    Kyle was staring at my hand. He started forward, but one of the guards stepped toward him, Taser out, and ordered him to stay with the others. Kyle did as he was told, but didn’t take his eyes off me.
    My stolen envelope suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. It was a relief to hand it—along with my first name—to the man in white.
    I rejoined Kyle and Serena. Kyle opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut. We were surrounded. He couldn’t say or ask anything without being heard.
    Before the last samples were collected, two more wolves had freak-outs—one because of the blood and another because she was claustrophobic. The claustrophobic wolf was given a second chance. The other was tased and dragged from the room.
    Once it was over, the man in white left and the remaining guards followed.
    We waited. After a while, a few people were brave enough to pull out their cell phones, but just like in the truck, no one could get a signal. No one spoke. It was like we were all scared the guards would return at the first whispered word.
    Eventually, wolves began getting called out of the room in groups of twos and threes as the results of the blood tests came back.
    All but Mel. She was taken back the way we had come. As long as she didn’t argue when they called her a reg, she’d get a ticket out of here.
    At least I had managed to help someone.
    Kyle and I ended up the last two.
    He glanced at the door, then turned and gripped my arms. “Tell me you didn’t do something with the samples. Tell me you didn’t do anything stupid.” He stared at me as if he knew the answer but was praying he was wrong.
    I swallowed. “I swapped.”
    Kyle uttered a string of profanity that would have left Jason impressed, then stopped abruptly and sucked in a deep breath. I could actually see the effort he exerted to bring himself under control. “You have to tell them the truth. They’ll retest you. They’ll have to.”
    I shook my head. “I’m not leaving you. Or Serena. It’s my fault you guys are here.”
    “Mac, it’s a camp. You’ll get torn apart.” He ran a hand over his face. “If you don’t tell them it was a mistake, I will.”
    “If you do, that other girl—Mel—will just get yanked back. You heard her in the courtyard. This’ll give her the chance to go home. Do you really want to take that from her?”
    “You don’t belong here.” The words were a low growl.
    “Neither do you or Serena,” I tossed back. “We don’t even know what camp this is. If I stay for a few days, maybe I can learn something. Something that could help get you out. Something the RfW could use, maybe.” The RfW—Regs for Werewolves—was one of the few groups who lobbied for werewolf rights. “You know they’d kill to find out what’s going on in the camps.”
    Kyle stared at me as though I had completely lost my mind.
    “There’s Hank!” I said, desperately grasping at straws even I didn’t have faith in. “You heard Eve: She thinks he’s going to come for us. And there’s Jason.” I grabbed Kyle’s arm in a death grip. “I’ll keep my head down and watch what’s going on—at least find out where we are—and in a few days, I’ll tell them I’m a reg. That way I can at least let Trey know where Serena is. Please, Kyle, just a few days.”
    Emotions cycled across his face. Worry. Frustration. Guilt. And then resignation. He reached out and brushed the hair back from my forehead.
    The door to the waiting room opened. Finally, he nodded.
    We were led to a room that was small, sterile, and white. It reminded me of those interrogation rooms you saw in movies, a feeling not helped by the mirror that ran