Chapter 7

The sedan tore through the chain-link gate, metal screaming as the luxury car battered its way to freedom.

Kade drove with one hand, the other pressing a rag to his bleeding side. Elara was in the passenger seat, typing furiously on the laptop connected to the stolen hard drive.

"I'm uploading the files to the defectors now," she said. "The real ones. Not Vance."

Behind them, the lights of Blackridge High faded into the rainy distance. Sirens wailed in the night, closing in on the school.

They hit the on-ramp for Interstate 5. North. Toward Canada. Toward nowhere.

The adrenaline began to fade, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion.

"We can never go back," Elara said softly, closing the laptop.

"I know," Kade said.

"They'll hunt us. Forever."

"Let them come," Kade said. He looked at her. Her face was bruised, her hair a mess, but she was alive. She was free.

"I'm not hiding anymore, Elara. We aren't ghosts."

Elara reached across the center console. She took his hand—the hand that was stained with grease and blood.

"No," she agreed. "We're a pack."

Kade squeezed her hand. A small, rare smile touched his lips. He pressed the accelerator, and the car sped up, disappearing into the dark, wet night of the open road.

The war had just begun. But for the first time in six years, Kade wasn't fighting it alone.