Instar: a developmental stage of insects. There was more wrapped up in the definition, science and analysis and images of butterflies bursting out of cocoons, ants breaking out of their exoskeletons, but the core of it didn’t waver, didn’t change. I dropped Mark’s hand. He staggered back, eyes wide and glinting white as he stared at me with new, slightly frightened respect.
“Skin contact,” I snarled. “Shouldn’t have given it to me.” His thoughts were clearer now. They almost formed words even without him trying to project them. “Think next time.”
“There’s not going to be a next time,” he said. “There should have never even been a first time.”
“You really want to tell me you’ve never touched anyone before in your life?”
“I’ve touched plenty of people,” he said. “I’ve never touched anyone like you.”
“Because I’ve reached my third instar,” I said.
He turned his face away.
“Don’t make me go into your thoughts again. Neither of us is going to enjoy it.” I made a motion like I was going to grab his hand. He flinched. “You don’t want that? Then talk.”
“You have no idea what you’re messing with, Sarah,” Mark said. He took a step backward, away from me, out of easy reach. That didn’t matter. Skin is easy. When all I need is skin, I can do anything. “This is so much bigger than either one of us. You need to stop.”
“You’re kidnapping me, taking through the woods to hand me over to a bunch of strangers, and taunting me with all the things I don’t know, and I’m the one who needs to stop?” I narrowed my eyes. I could see them reflected in Mark’s irises, little glints of light that meant my abilities were still on high-alert and informing everything about me. “I think you got your pronouns wrong.”
“You’ll understand soon,” he said, a note of genuine pleading in his voice. “Please. We’re almost there.”
I glared at him for a moment before I pulled myself back, taking a deep breath. We were too deep in the woods for me to make it to the compound on my own, and I needed to know why this was all happening. Whatever the fourth instar was, it was enough to frighten Mark. Maybe it would be enough to frighten the rest of them. I could resolve this without endangering the rest of my family. I could handle it. Whatever this was, I could handle it.
“All right,” I said, and let him lead me into the dark.
Twelve
“Didn’t think I’d ever have a family. Didn’t think I’d ever want one. It’s funny, how much a person can change without even noticing what’s happening.”
—Frances Brown
A logging road deep in the Oregon woods, isolated from everyone but the enemy, about to make a terrible mistake
THE RV LOOKED PERFECTLY normal, if a little swankier than most people in this neck of the woods could afford. All the lights were on, even the headlights, turning the slice of road and grassy shoulder around it buttery-yellow against the darkness of the rest of the woods. Mark huffed a sigh, radiating relief, and started walking faster. I reached for him.
“Please don’t,” he said. “I don’t want you in my head again.”
“You’re the one who kidnapped me,” I said. “I’m not sure you get to make requests.”
“I didn’t kidnap you,” he said. “I liberated you from your kidnappers.” He looked over his shoulder at me, eyes glinting momentarily white. “I know there’s a lot you don’t understand yet, but you will. You’re so close to understanding, and once you do . . . everything’s going to change, for all of us. Come on.”
He sped up again, pulling ahead of me, so that there was no possible way I could grab his hand. It was too late for me to change my mind. I followed.
The RV’s side door opened as we approached, and two more cuckoos stepped out, their minds reaching for mine in a telepath’s . . . not handshake, exactly, since that implied contact, something we were all dedicated to avoiding. It was more like a meeting between two wolves with no humans around to observe them. Our thoughts brushed by each other, taking stock, taking measure, and then moving quietly on. I caught nothing from them aside from caution and a sense of wary excitement, like they were waiting for me to do some uniquely exciting trick.
“David,” said Mark. “Heloise.”
“Out loud?” asked the one he’d called Heloise. “Like humans? Ugh. I knew the girl was provincial, but that’s disgusting.” She gave me a slow look up and down, pausing when she reached my hair. She sniffed. “Bangs. It has bangs. Mark, how dare you not tell me it had bangs. I might have chosen a different role.”
“I hadn’t seen her before she landed in Portland, any more than the rest of you had,” said Mark, sounding unruffled. “You’ll be thrilled to hear that she was hurt in the crash. There’s a cut concealed under those bangs. A nice long one.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Your relatives should really wear telepathy blockers if they don’t want people to wander in and take whatever it is they want to know,” said Mark. “Honestly, if they’re the best humanity has to offer, it’s a wonder we didn’t conquer this planet centuries ago.”
“Too much work,” said David. He looked at me, eyes glinting white as a wave of malice rolled off of him like approaching thunder. “You killed Amelia.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” I protested. I had never been around this many cuckoos in my life. The staticky hum of their presence was like white noise, making my head bubble and fizz. “I don’t know any of you people, and I still don’t know why I’m here.”
Heloise approached us, walking a circle around me as she continued her inspection. “You’re so innocent—and so domesticated. It makes me sick. We should never have allowed this to happen.”
“I don’t know you,” I repeated. “I don’t understand why you’re so worried about me.”
“You don’t seem to know much,” she said. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about the message it sends when we allow ourselves to be domesticated. We should have stolen you away years ago, before all this damage had been done. We could have hollowed you out ourselves. Kept you where no one would ever see. Where you wouldn’t be able to do us any damage. David? I need your phone.”
The other cuckoo pulled a phone out of his pocket and lobbed it toward Heloise. She caught it without looking and aimed it at my face, clicking several quick pictures. I blinked.