Free Return to Paradise by Pittacus Lore Page B

Sarah. That she’s probably being held captive by them right now.
    Or worse.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    I STAY UP MOST OF THE NIGHT SENDING PICTURES and scans of the magazines to GUARD. He works his internet magic and comes back to me with several phone numbers for the people who publish They Walk Among Us . He asks if I want him to call, but I take responsibility for it. I’m the one who’s now pored over every column in every issue Sam had, hoping that something— anything —will give me a clue as to where the people holding Sarah might be. Or if not them, where John and Six and Sam might have escaped to. If I can find them, they can use their superpowers to rescue Sarah, no problem.
    No problem . I repeat this over and over in my head, hoping that eventually I’ll believe it.
    I buy a burner phone after school the next day and start in on the numbers GUARD came up with as I drive home. The first three I call have all been disconnected—nota good sign. The fourth and final number connects, though. Actually, it rings forever, with no voice mail. After about twenty rings, I hang up and call back. I count twenty more, and then I hang up and call back again.
    I’ve never been one for subtlety.
    After the third ring, someone hangs up the phone. I can hear the muffled sound of a split second of connection.
    So someone’s there .
    I take a chance and call back. This time the pickup is immediate.
    “What do you want?” The voice on the other end of the line is shaky and high-pitched. It’s a man’s voice. By the rate of his breathing, it sounds like he’s hyperventilating.
    “Hi, this is . . .” I fumble for a second before landing on a name. “Roger.”
    “Whatever you want, Roger, you’ve got the wrong number. Don’t call back.”
    “I’m just trying to get some info on They Walk Among Us . Are you one of the writers or editors or whatever?”
    “I said, you have the wrong number.”
    Click . The voice on the other end is gone.
    I slam my fist on my dashboard and try to figure out what to do next. Then I say, “Screw it,” and dial back. This time the man sounds pissed when he answers.
    “Don’t. Call. Again.”
    “My friend is in trouble,” I blurt out. There’s silence from the other dude, so I continue. “She’s missing. It has something to do with the Mogadorians. I just want to find her. I just want to know that she’s okay.”
    I sink back into the driver’s seat, letting my head hit the rest behind me.
    “Please,” I say.
    There’s a long sigh on the other end of the line. When the voice comes back, it sounds like the guy is crying.
    “We don’t publish the newsletter anymore. They’ve taken everything. What more do you want from us? What more do you want? They’ve taken everything.”
    “Who’s ‘they’?” I ask, but I can guess. “The Mogs? Did they get to you?”
    There’s no answer on the other end. I take the phone away from my ear and stare at it for a moment before hanging up. I shouldn’t be surprised that this was the fate of the magazine. Hell, I’m surprised anyone was left alive at all.
    I message GUARD about the conversation. Then I make a proposal.
    JOLLYROGER182: the people who subscribed to They Walk Among Us knew about the Mogs. it was in their mag
    GUARD: Right. We know that.
    JOLLYROGER182: we should change the name of our blog. make it easier for true believers to find
    GUARD: You want us to become the new TWAU?
    JOLLYROGER182: i think it might help us find some new recruits. and the more people in on this the more chances I have of figuring out what happened to Sarah
    GUARD: It’ll make us even bigger targets if the Mogs shut down the old TWAU.
    JOLLYROGER182: but u r a computer whiz. untraceable addresses and IPs. im not worried.
    GUARD: Let’s do it. I’m emailing you an encrypted file. Password is a sea monster’s planet.
    I know exactly what he’s talking about—this morning before I left for school, we’d made fun of an old article I found in They