“Here you go,” Rob said, passing us each a black backpack. My fellow freak snatched his, checking its contents like it was a party favor bag.

“It looks like the bathrooms in the station still have some running water. I wouldn’t try drinking it though,” Rob continued. “There’s a change of clothes and some necessities in there. Don’t take a million years, but feel free to wash that camp off you.”

Wash Thurmond off me? Rub it off like a splatter of mud? I may have been able to erase everyone else’s memories, but I couldn’t scrub away my own.

I took my bag without a word, the beginnings of a headache rumbling at the base of my skull. I knew what that meant well enough to take a step back. My heel caught on the uneven cement, sending me stumbling toward the hard ground. I threw out my arms in a lame attempt to reclaim my balance, but the only solid thing I found was Rob’s arm.

He may have thought he was being chivalrous by catching me, but he should have let me fall. My brain released a blissful little sigh as it went tumbling into Rob’s thoughts. All at once, the pressure that had been building in the back of my mind released, sending a tingle racing down my spine. I gritted my teeth at the sinking sensation, anger flooding my system as I tried to yank myself away.

Unlike Cate’s memories, which came and went like fluttering eyelashes, Rob’s thoughts seemed almost lethargic…velvety and murky. They didn’t piece themselves together so much as seep into one another—like ink dropped into a glass of water, the dark mass stretching and slithering until it finally polluted everything that had once been clean.

I was Rob, and Rob was staring down at two dark shapes—two dark sacks covered their heads, but it was obvious that one was a man and the other a woman. It was the latter that had my heart thrumming in my ears. The strength of her sobbing shook her entire body, but she never stopped struggling against the plastic ties binding her hands and feet.

Rain came down around us like an afterthought, running down through the gutters of the nearby buildings. Through the filter of Rob’s mind, it sounded like static. Two enormous black Dumpsters came into focus out of the corner of my eye, and it was only then that I realized we were in an alley, and we were alone.

Rob’s hand—my hand—reached out and ripped the hood off the woman, sending her dark hair flying over her face.

But it wasn’t a woman at all. It was a girl, no older than I was, wearing a set of dark green clothes. A uniform. A camp uniform.

Tears mixed with rain, dripping down over her cheeks into her mouth, Her colorless lips formed the shape please and her eyes seemed to scream no, but there was a gun in my hand, silver and shining despite the low light. The same gun that was tucked in the back of Rob’s jeans. The same one that was now pointed at the girl’s forehead.