She jams a long rod into the handle of the door and twists it around, preventing it from opening on the inside. Max presses against me. “He’s not dead, right?” I ask, placing a protective arm around my brother. The night is cold and seeps through the thin material of my dress. “It doesn’t matter,” Jenna says. “We have to get out of here.” “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” She helps Colt to his feet, completely ignoring me. “Answer me! Is he dead?” She whirls on me, her golden eyes cold and cruel. “If I’m lucky that rod will hold for maybe five minutes, and then a whole lot of people, who none of us are equipped to fight, are going to come pouring out like locusts. Do you want all of us captured?” I glance at Colt, but he’s staring at the ground as if he’s trying to remember what happened. “Fine,” I say, and tighten my grip on Max. “Can you run?” Jenna asks Colt. “I think so,” he stutters. “Good. The car’s this way.” She cuts into the forest, followed by Colt, who’s half-running, half-limping.
