Frozen: Heart of Dread, Book One by Melissa de la Cruz, Michael Johnston

here,” Shakes said. “That place always gives me the creeps. It’s why I hate taking these back roads. Seekers can suck it.”
    She exhaled slowly, relieved to find out it was just a coincidence. The truck gained speed when a trail of black smoke flashed across their windshield.
    “What was that?” Farouk asked nervously.
    “I’ll check it out,” Wes said, and popped through the moon roof, goggles on. “Something’s going down.”
    There was another black flash, and puffs of smoke, a crackling sound that rippled across the snow banks, and from afar he saw three figures running. Wes fell back to his seat. “Breakout. Looks like a few convicts are trying to escape tonight.”
    “Breakout? It’s a jail?” Farouk asked.
    “No, loser, it’s a hospital,” Daran sniggered. “You never heard of MacArthur Med?”
    “You mean one of the treatment centers? For the marked?”
    “Bingo,” said Zedric with a cruel smile.
    Wes stood back up through the open hatch and looked around. “Two patrols chasing, one on either side of us, running parallel. We’re pinned in here.”
    Shakes called up to his friend, “Let’s just run between them.”
    Wes nodded.
    “What are you doing?” Nat asked, twisting her hands in her lap.
    “Just pretending we’re one of them. At this distance, we look like another patrol. If they don’t get too close, we’ll be fine. Relax.”
    Gunfire rang in the distance, along with the sounds of shouting and screaming. The Slaine boys took their places by the window, guns trained on the horizon.
    Wes slid back down and tapped Shakes on the shoulder. “Drive slowly—let them inch away from us.”
    The truck moved forward and the atmosphere inside was tense. Patrols still flanked them on both sides as they made their way past. Wes cursed suddenly and they all saw why.
    In the distance, the fences along the perimeter narrowed on both sides toward a checkpoint; the path they were taking was leading them right to the guardhouse. “Double back, Shakes, double back,” Wes said.
    “It’s a long way back,” said Nat. “Won’t it look suspicious?”
    “It will, but we’ve got no choice.” He pointed the way to Shakes. “Take us back.”
    Shakes turned the truck, which kicked up more snow, spinning its tires in a mush of icy, wet dirt. The sound of gunfire grew louder. They heard a scream and saw the sky turn black with smoke again—their only escape was taking them closer to the prisoners.
    A hard thud shook the truck, followed by footsteps scrambling on the roof of their LTV. Through the windows Nat saw a trio of escapees headed for the cover of the nearest snowbank, all wearing the familiar gray pajamas. Then one of them fell, facedown, a bullet in his back.
    “Don’t shoot!” Wes ordered his boys.
    “Wasn’t us!” Zedric yelled.
    “We’ve got to help them,” Nat whispered urgently, catching Wes’s eye. “Please.”
    Wes snorted. “Help them? Unless you’ve got a pimp roll full of heat credits, you’re the only cargo I’m taking on.” He looked at her closely. “What do you care?”
    Nat turned away, willing the tears in her eyes to stop; she had revealed too much. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. He didn’t know anything about her, and she swore to keep it that way from now on.
    Do not despair. They will find their own way,
the voice murmured, but Nat felt her stomach twist: Here she was, in the safety of the truck, while outside, her friends—her friends were dying. People like her, hunted and killed.
    “Shakes—just plow through the fence—look, there’s a hole over there—we’ll just rip it through,” Wes ordered.
    The truck barreled through the nearest fence, ripping through the metal with an ugly screech, but soon they were back on the road, and moving at a fast clip, taking them farther and farther away.
    Nat didn’t look back.

13
    T HE BACK ROADS TURNED TO OUT TO BE more of a challenge than Wes had expected. The smooth snow-covered landscape