Free Hemlock by Kathleen Peacock Page A

and bleeding and crying and I felt like I had falen into one of those war movies Kyle’s dad was always watching.
    For a second, I spotted Ethan, normaly so calm and kind, as he punched a Tracker in the face.
    Someone shoved me and I stumbled forward, barely catching my balance before I was pushed again and again. I had the horrifying thought that I was going to fal and be crushed, but then, suddenly, I was knocked to the outer fringe of the crowd.
    I staggered a few feet away and began running along the perimeter of the mob, trying to catch a glimpse of Serena as I franticaly yeled her name.
    The sea of bodies parted—just for an instant—and I caught sight of her pink coat as a boy hauled her to her feet.
    Jason.
    He half dragged, half carried her away from the surge and toward the relative safety of the parked cars.
    Sirens blared and a police cruiser swerved around the corner.
    Everyone scattered—the way they did when the cops busted the drinking parties out by the lake. Everyone who could run, that is.
    So quick that it was almost dizzying, it was over.
    A few people crouched on the ground among the wreckage of broken signs and debris, too stunned—or wounded—to flee.

    broken signs and debris, too stunned—or wounded—to flee.
    Slightly shel-shocked and shaking, I headed for the cars.
    Jason and Serena were standing next to his SUV. When he spotted me, his shoulders relaxed and his breath came out in a rush. He shook his head. “Wel,” he drawled, “that wasn’t in the program.”
    I ignored him. “Are you okay?” I asked Serena as I scanned her for bruises. Her cheeks and forehead were covered in a light sheen of sweat and she was trembling, but only her clothes seemed to have suffered any real damage.
    She nodded. “Just very, very rattled.” She slid her phone out of her purse and hastily sent a text. “Trey,” she explained, catching my curious look. “I asked him to come pick me up.”
    Jason leaned against the SUV. “I can drive you home.”
    Serena shook her head and tried to brush some of the dirt and grass from her coat. “No offense, but I’ve seen how you drive. I think one near-death experience is enough for tonight. Besides, didn’t you lose your license?”
    Jason hesitated a second too long before saying, “I got it back.”
    I made a mental note to check his walet the first chance I got.
    “Jason!” A guy I didn’t recognize strode toward us. He looked about nineteen or twenty, with sun-bleached hair and bronzed skin.
    The colar of his faded denim jacket just grazed the unmistakable tattoo on his neck.
    “You’re going to Tuesday’s meeting, right?” the guy asked.
    I blinked. It was like he was completely oblivious to the riot that had just taken place. Then again, he was a ful-fledged Tracker.

    had just taken place. Then again, he was a ful-fledged Tracker.
    Maybe this sort of thing happened wherever he went.
    He spared a quick grin for Serena and me. He looked a bit like Ben—the same sort of blond hair and build—but the smile didn’t reach his eyes and there was something a little mean about the turn of his mouth that kept him from being attractive. He focused back on Jason. “I know you’re not big on public speaking, but we realy need you on the program next time. Your story would realy help drive home how dangerous these fleabags are.”
    Jason nodded and they walked a few feet away to talk.
    Serena frowned. “Is it just me, or are we the only ones freaked out by the fact that the evening just went totaly Gangs of New York ?”
    “It’s not just you.”
    A knot twisted in my stomach as I watched Jason talk to the Tracker. They didn’t look like two people who had only met in the past couple of days. In fact, it looked an awful lot like they’d known each other for a while. I had the sudden suspicion that maybe Jason had been talking to the Trackers long before they arrived in town.
    A second police car reached the community center, and two more cops