Of course, my instincts have told me things about Raffe that haven’t panned out. My cheeks warm at the thought of what happened with him earlier today in bed.

He flips the collar on his coat and buttons it all the way up to cover his bare chest, then puts on his cap. Even though we had a warm day, the October night is chilly enough that he won’t look suspicious. California nights can easily be twenty degrees colder than the days.

‘Stay here, Paige. We’ll be back soon, okay?’

Paige is already busy quieting her locusts and hardly seems to notice us. I don’t like leaving her, but I can’t take her into camp either. The last time she was here, the frightened Resistance people lassoed her like an animal, and who knows what they would have done if the locusts hadn’t attacked. I can’t expect the angry villager attitude to have changed since then.

As soon as we start moving, I feel eyes watching me. I keep looking around, but I don’t see anything. On the edge of my vision, though, I see shadows shifting.

‘Locust victims,’ whispers Raffe.

I’m guessing this means that they haven’t been accepted into camp. I don’t think they’re dangerous, but I rest my hand on Pooky Bear, taking comfort in the soft fur. Then I take a deep breath and continue through the dark grove.

Chapter 15

15

The school grounds are quiet and seemingly deserted. I guesstimate that there must be a few thousand people here now. But you’d never know it.

Obi has done such a great job of setting up the refugee camp that even the new people follow the rules. They know not to walk out in the open. The amount of trash here is no greater and no worse than trash floating anywhere else in Silicon Valley. The entire campus is so quiet that I’d almost be surprised if I saw anyone here.

But once we get close enough to the buildings, we can see the dim lights glowing inside. The windows are covered by blankets and towels, but some have been put up sloppily, letting light and motion slip through the edges.

I step up to a window and peek through a crack. The room is jammed with people. They look reasonably well fed, some almost clean. I don’t recognize them – they must be the Alcatraz refugees. I look through another window and see the same. With this many new people, the whole place must be filled with chaos and confusion.