Chapter 22

From somewhere ahead of me, a bark of

laughter splits the night. Glad someone finds this amusing. I look

up to see the faint glow of a barrel fire. Suddenly I realize how

weary I am, how every inch of me burns or stings or hurts, and I

just want to curl up on the ground and die. But I can’t—Tomas needs

me. So I stagger to my feet and approach the barrel.

As I come closer, I notice three

people huddled together, two men and a woman bent over the barrel

for warmth and light. The woman is light-skinned with light hair

that curls around her face and down her back in a ragged ponytail,

her large almond eyes taking me in. One of the men wears a hooded

sweatshirt that hides everything, but he glances up and I see a

wickedness in his face that scares me.

Maybe I shouldn’t stop here. They

won’t want to help me any more than the others did. The Bridge

should be just ahead, I can keep moving, I can—

“Hey.” The second man