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Chapters (42)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION PAGE
  4. CONTENTS
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  42. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

His eyes lingered on my face, and he opened his mouth to say something. But then he swallowed whatever it was and drew himself up straight. “Yes, Captain.”

NINETEEN

NINETEEN

WE DIDN’T FIND THE nest by the end of the week, but not for lack of trying. I mapped out routes, including all four of the shelters, to be patrolled by two Guards each night. The third Guard on duty was assigned to monitor Facebook and connect with our friends in an effort to keep tabs and make sure they weren’t doing anything crazy. The fourth Guard on the rotating schedule was under strict orders to rest. I designed the schedule so that the guys would have every third night off, with the instruction that they use that time to get at least eight hours of sleep. I … did not give myself the same kind of break. I couldn’t.

I could barely sleep at all.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her beckoning to me. Ven conmigo, she whispered. Come.

I couldn’t figure out why she’d said it. Had that been the Mazikin speaking, trying to capture me, or had she said it because, deep inside her, my mother’s memories were so strong that the Mazikin felt something for me? I didn’t know what I wanted the answer to be, but the question dogged me.

The woman hospitalized after the Mazikin attack on the camp died a few days after the incident, never having regained consciousness. She was identified as Marie Clement, a thirty-nine-year-old unemployed waitress from West Warwick. Cause of death was still being determined, but I knew how it had happened. The Mazikin inside my mother had bitten her, and the venom had paralyzed and slowly killed her.

Her death fueled the enthusiasm of the media. The death of one homeless person might not get much attention, but at this point several had been found dead in local parks, and now five people had been slaughtered in a single night. Rumors about how they died were swirling. Homeless advocates were up in arms, demanding justice. It was becoming more difficult to stay under the radar for Guards and Mazikin alike.

I was a Guard and nothing else. I ate mechanically. Did minimal homework on autopilot, enough to keep out of trouble. Stared my way through classes while my brain whirled with patrol strategies and what-ifs. I trained with the other Guards for hours every day after school, turning off all my emotions and facing Malachi down on the mat with fists and knives. He kicked my ass repeatedly, and sometimes I think he enjoyed it a little. I know I did. I needed a place to vent my frustration, and that was it. I couldn’t blame him if he did the same thing.