POSSESSION, Book 1 in the Possession Trilogy

Chapter 17

17.

Everything was screwed up. If my dad were here, he could fix it. Dad knew how to turn regret into something positive. He was smart, inventive, able to reason through problems like no one else. I ached for his advice, the same way Jag ached for his parents, for Pace.

When Jag’s sobs subsided, he turned away from me and folded the blanket.

This silence sucked. “So, what now?”

“I’m tired,” Jag said.

“And I’m still starving.”

He rummaged in the pack and tossed me a black-wrapped bar. A TravelTreat—a really old one. Before peeling back the wrapper, I wondered when he’d last replenished his hideout food supply. As soon as I bit into fruit and nut bar (disgusting), I knew it had been a very long time. But it tasted better than emptiness. Jag lay down while I crunched my way through the bar. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to go anywhere.

But I was. “We’re getting the hell out of here. I’m not living in the forest in a microscopic tree house.”

Jag smiled, but it didn’t carry its usual winning quality. “It’s better than prison.”

I snorted. “Marginally.”

Jag closed his eyes.

A lurch of panic hit my stomach. Was he seriously taking a nap? “We’re not safe here.”

“Probably not.”

“And that’s okay with you?” Where was the leader of the Resistance? I couldn’t make the Dream Jag who’d seemed so in charge mesh with this Melancholy Jag in front of me.

He opened his eyes. They had a spark back. Finally. “Of course not. What do you suggest?”

“Anything! Anything would be better than sitting here in the forest waiting to be caught.”

“You said that tag wasn’t activated.”

“That’s what Baldie said. But I don’t trust him, just like I don’t trust anyone.”

Jag’s mouth twitched with a tiny smile. “Not even me?”

I hesitated. Did I trust him? Could I? Jag opened his mouth, but I spoke first. “I trust you.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Sometimes you’re an—”

“We can control people,” Jag interrupted before I could get the insult out. “Whole cities of people. So yeah, we’re not safe. We’re wanted now—by Thane and his Association of Directors.”

I could control other people? I tried to work up enough saliva to swallow. I put my hand on my face, and it felt too hot. I sputtered when I realized I hadn’t been breathing.

Jag put his hand on my back. “You okay?”

Unable to speak, I nodded. The TravelTreat waged war with my insides. I didn’t want to run a city. I didn’t want to be in control of anyone.

“It’s duty or death,” Jag said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Controlling people, I mean. That’s the world we live in. Duty or death.”

“So…you’re saying they want us dead or on their side.”

Jag shrugged, which I interpreted as a yes. He was right—both of those weren’t stellar options. No wonder Thane kept whispering in my head. At least I knew he didn’t want to kill me.

“So, uh, do you hear voices?” I asked.

His eyes snapped open. “No. Do you?”

I might have told him, if he didn’t look and sound like hearing voices was the absolute worst thing that could happen to a person. “No, no,” I said, maybe a little too quick. “I mean, I did in the Goodgrounds—sometimes—with all the transmissions floating in the air.” I hated lying to him, but I’d just spilled about the tag. I could tell him about the voice later. Much later.