Sighing, he made the trek to the bunkhouse. Sophia barked and finally raced off. Inside, the warm but fresh breeze died, air thickening with dust. He’d shower, change, maybe grab a bite to eat, then head back to the house. If Dan wasn’t back by then, he’d have to wait until next week to talk to him. He hadn’t forgotten that the poison even now swimming through his veins was going to start pummeling him in the next few hours, at which point he’d be no good to anyone.

This was just the calm before the storm.

There was a murmur of voices in the background, and Aden tried to tiptoe to his room. But a floorboard creaked, and a second later, a familiar voice was calling, “Hey, schizo. C’mere.”

He paused, staring at the fat wooden beams stretching across the ceiling and wondering if he should just sneak out. He and Ozzie had never gotten along. Maybe because every word out of the guy’s mouth was an insult. But still. Any more fights, verbal or otherwise, and he’d be kicked out. He’d already been warned.

“Yo, schizo. Don’t make me come after you.”

A round of laughter.

So Ozzie’s sheep were there, as well.

Leave. I can’t deal with another upset today, Julian said.

Walk away and they’ll think you’re weak. The pronouncement came from Elijah, therefore had a greater chance of being true. Then you’ll never have a moment’s peace.

Wrong. Go to the woods and you can have peace right now, Caleb said. Besides, you can’t fight them in your condition.

Just get it over with. Eve’s determination made her voice harsh. Otherwise you’ll worry about being ambushed all night. And sick as you’ll be, you don’t need that on your mind.

Jaw clenched, he stalked to his room, tossed down his backpack and then crossed the hall into Ozzie’s room.

You always listen to Eve, Julian whined.

Because he’s smart, Eve said.

Because he’s a teenager and you’re a female, Caleb muttered.

You’ve never complained about my being female before.

When Aden appeared in the doorway, a grinning Ozzie looked him up and down. The grin soon became a sneer. “What have you been doing? Making out with the vacuum since no one’s desperate enough to actually touch you? Or maybe you and one of your invisible friends hooked up. Was it a guy or a girl this time?”

The rest of the dregs snickered.

“It was a girl,” Aden said. “She’d just left you, so she was desperate enough.”

“Burned,” the other dregs laughed.

Ozzie stilled. His eyes narrowed.

Ozzie had been here a little over a year, which was months longer than everyone else. From what Aden had gathered, he’d gotten busted for drugs and shoplifting on more than one occasion and his parents had finally washed their hands of him.

“I’m outta here,” Aden said.

“Stay right there.” Ozzie held up a half-smoked joint. His blond hair was spiked, as if he’d tangled his hands in it one too many times. “You’re gonna take a drag. You need help with your crazy.”

More laughter.

“No, thanks.” He didn’t need “drug use” added to his already-lengthy record.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Ozzie snapped. “Smoke. Now.”

“No. Thanks.” Aden studied the bedroom. It was a mirror image of his own. Plain white walls, a bunk bed with matching brown comforters on both the top and the bottom, a dresser and a desk. Nothing extra. No wall hangings or framed photos. To help them forget the past and concentrate on the future, Dan liked to say about the lack of frills. Aden suspected it was because dregs came and went so quickly.

“Come on, m-man. Just d-do it.” Shannon, black and the biggest of them all, lounged on the pillows they’d strewn across the floor. His green eyes were red-rimmed, one of them swollen. From a recent fight? Probably. Usually, he would stutter, the dregs would make fun of him, and then he’d lash out. Why he still chose to hang with them, Aden didn’t know. “Y-you could forget what a nut j-job you are.”

Seth, Terry and Brian nodded in agreement. The three of them could have passed for brothers. Each had dark hair, dark eyes and similar boyish faces. Their individual styles set them apart, though. Seth colored thick red streaks in his hair and had a snake tattooed on the inside of one wrist. Terry wore his hair long and shaggy and dressed in baggy clothes. Brian was all smooth polish.

Saying no again was hard. Especially when it would help dull the pain he knew was coming. But he did it. If he got high, he’d forget more than who he was; he would forget about talking to Dan. And he had to talk to Dan. If Dan agreed to Aden’s plan, Aden would get to see a lot more of Mary Ann.

With that kind of incentive, he’d give up anything, everything.

“Whatever, man.” Ozzie’s cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, and smoke wafted around his face. “I knew you were pathetic.”

Do not react. “Where’s Ryder?” The sixth member of their crew.

“Dan found a bag in his room—empty, of course, or he’d be out—and took him into town for drug testing,” Seth said. “They’ll be gone for hours. Hence the party.”

“Parties are like cupcakes,” Terry said with a grin.

Uh, what?

“No, parties are like peeing in a cup,” Brian said and everyone burst into loud guffaws as if the funniest joke ever had just been dropped.

Had he been this stupid the few times he’d gotten high? Aden wondered.

A knock suddenly sounded at the front door, followed by a creak of hinges.

“We’re back,” Ryder called nervously. He must have known what they were doing.

“Gone for hours, huh?” Aden said.

Ozzie cursed and scrambled to hide the joint, tossing it inside a metal container. He slammed the lid over it to contain the smoke.

Seth grabbed a can of air freshener and sprayed in a circle. Terry tossed the pillows back onto the bed. Brian scrambled around, looking for a way out. And Shannon remained in place, resting his head in his upraised hands. Then Ryder was striding inside the room, red hair standing on end, lips peeled back in a scowl.

Dan was right behind him. He stopped in the doorway beside Aden, thumbs hooked in his belt loop, baseball cap low on his head. Disapproval clouded his deeply tanned features as he sniffed the air.

“I’m trying to save your lives, boys. You know that, don’t you?”

A few of the dregs gazed down at their feet in shame. Ozzie just smirked. No one spoke.

“Finish cleaning up and then I want you to do something useful. In fact, each of you will pick a book from the box I gave you last week and read at least five chapters. You’ll tell me what you read tomorrow morning at breakfast.”

Groans erupted.

“None of that, now.” Dan studied each of their faces, one by one. When he reached Aden, he blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t realized Aden was there. “Let’s take a walk,” he said. He didn’t wait for Aden’s reply, but pounded out of the bunkhouse, the door slamming shut behind him.

“Tell him where my stash is,” Ozzie growled at him, “and I’ll cut your throat.”

“Try,” Aden said, and pivoted on his heel.

Did you have to antagonize him? Eve asked, clearly frustrated.

“Yes.” He didn’t react well to threats.

Outside, clean air once again enveloped him, and he breathed deeply. The sun had fallen some more, casting a gloomy haze around him. It was the perfect contrast to his suddenly bright mood. For the first time in perhaps forever, Aden was hopeful his life could change for the better.

Dan was a few feet ahead, strolling toward the north pasture, and Aden rushed to catch up with him. Even though Aden was just above six feet, Dan towered over him.

A few times over the past week, when Aden thought no one inside his head was paying attention, he’d pretended Dan was his dad. They certainly looked like they could be related. Both of them had pale hair (when Aden didn’t dye his to stop the blond jokes), lips almost too full for a boy and square jaws. When he’d realized what he was doing, though, he’d forced himself to stop. Surprisingly, stopping had made him depressed.

What did his real father look like? Aden didn’t have any pictures. Didn’t even have memories of him. Only thing he knew about the man was that he’d given Aden up. Which meant, he, too, had considered Aden a freak. At least Dan didn’t treat him like a mentally unstable child in need of confinement.

“Let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we?” Dan said when Aden reached him. He tipped his hat for a better view of the land. “What have you been up to today?”

Aden gulped. He’d expected the question, had even planned his answer. But the only word he could force out of his mouth was, “Nothing.” He hated lying to Dan, but it couldn’t be helped. Who would believe he’d been battling corpses?

“Nothing, huh?” Dan arched a brow in disbelief. “Nothing is the reason your face is smeared with gunk and your neck is eaten up with bite marks? Nothing is the reason you’ve been gone all day? You know you have to keep me informed.”

“I left a note telling you I was exploring the town.” There. Truth. He had explored. Wasn’t his fault he’d stumbled upon the living dead. “I didn’t do anything illegal or hurt anyone.” Again, truth. There was no law against killing people who were already dead, and you couldn’t hurt a corpse. “You have my word.”

Dan removed a toothpick from his shirt pocket and anchored it between his teeth. “Exploring on your day off is fine, encouraged, even, if you gain my permission first. You didn’t. I would have sent my cell phone with you, so I would be able to get a hold of you if necessary. But you didn’t give me the opportunity. You dropped the note on my kitchen counter and snuck out. I could call your caseworker and have you picked up for this.”

His caseworker, Ms. Killerman, was the reason Aden was here. She was hellishly old, probably thirtysomething like Dan, and struck Aden as, well, cold. She’d been assigned to him while he’d been wasting away in the last institution. He’d had a tutor, of course, but he hadn’t been able to leave the grounds.