Page 36 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

holding his body up, he collapsed to the ground in an unmoving heap.

Perri rushed to his side.

August reached for Cyril’s wrist, seeming to search for a pulse.

“Cyril?” My voice wavered. “Can you hear me?”

But smoke wafted up from his clothes, the charred scent filling my nose, and August shook his head, dropping Cyril’s arm and watching it fall limply back to his side.

My heart plummeted.

That was two targets dead, neither at the hands of the hunters.

I hadn’t known Cyril very well, and I was certain he would’ve killed me given a chance, but to die so close to what he’d thought

was freedom... a weight settled in my chest at the thought.

And now my only plan for getting Jed out of Endlock was ruined.

“I heard they used to keep it electrified all the time,” August whispered, looking into the distance. “But it was too expensive

and pulled too much energy from the grid. Larch must have convinced the board to splurge on it.”

The fence, once harmless, was now coursing with fatal levels of electricity—another of Larch’s obstacles.

Beside me, Perri choked on sobs, holding Cyril’s hand like the smell of burnt flesh didn’t point to a foregone conclusion—shaking

him like he could possibly be alive after what he’d endured.

“Perri?” I whispered, placing my hand gently on her arm, shocking myself with my capacity to have compassion for the person

who had beaten me to a pulp in the bathroom.

“Don’t touch me!” Her scream echoed through the trees, and I cringed.

She would draw the hunters right to us.

“Perri, listen to me,” I said, removing my hand from her arm. “We have to go. The force field will close in any minute.”

“I’m not going anywhere with him ,” Perri screeched, staring daggers at August. “He’s a murderer.”

August’s mouth dropped open. “Cyril came at me . I was defending myself. I had no idea the fence was electrified.”

“Sure. Just like you two had no intention of escaping through the fence, right?” Perri looked back to the ground, and I pretended

not to see the tears carving tracks through the dirt on her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, trying again even as my eyes flitted about, searching for any sign of approaching danger. We had to go. “I know Cyril was your friend. But he wouldn’t want you to die out here.”

Perri wiped the wetness from her cheeks, locking her gaze with mine, her voice a deadly whisper. “Let me say this slowly so

you can get it through your thick skull. I don’t want your help. I’m not going anywhere with you. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Noted.” I pushed myself up, looking at August. He jerked his head toward the woods and then started walking. I left the wire

cutters next to Cyril’s still-smoking body, then jogged after August.

Once we were a few paces away from Perri, I asked, “We’re not seriously going to leave her, are we?”

August swallowed, not looking at me. “We tried to help. She wouldn’t listen. I’m not going to die for her—Momo needs me.”

He was right, of course. We had to look out for ourselves. For Jed. For our friends , because that’s what they were to me now.

We couldn’t feel guilt for doing what needed to be done to survive.

That was the first rule of bounty hunting, after all, and it seemed to be a good bit of advice out on the hunting grounds

as well.

Never make eye contact.

I allowed myself to ignore the rule for a moment, glancing over my shoulder one last time at Perri’s shaking form, meeting

her unwavering gaze before we entered the forest, leaving her behind—though I couldn’t leave behind the sense of unease I

felt at having caught her watching us when I’d expected her to be focused on Cyril.

The altercation at the fence had taken up too much time, and we were forced to abandon stealth in favor of speed to make it

to the second segment. There, we climbed a monstrous pine and waited in it until the force field moved in a final time. We

managed to make it to the Blood Tree in second and third place, joining an inmate in a brown uniform who was taking gasping

breaths and shuddering against the crimson bark.

She refused to acknowledge August when he tried to speak with her, and I had the impression she didn’t even know we were there.

Two more inmates in gray uniforms burst from the forest with a pair of hunters on their heels—two of the teenage girls who

were part of the birthday party.

“Faster,” the inmate in front got out through her heavy breaths. “We’re going to make it.”

The woman behind didn’t answer, staring intently at the Blood Tree and pumping her arms.

“We’re going to be okay, Suriah,” the inmate in front insisted, just as a shot rang out.

When Suriah didn’t answer, the woman stopped and turned, finding her face down on the ground.

“Suriah?”

Suriah’s body remained motionless, but blood leaked from below her still form.

I bit my lip, blinking hard against the tears pricking the back of my eyes.

The first inmate rushed away from the Blood Tree and toward Suriah’s body, but one of the hunters fired off three shots at

her before she made it more than a few steps. She fell to the ground and didn’t get back up.

I closed my eyes as a pair of guards dragged them away, with the teenaged girls giggling behind them.

“What do you think they’re going to do when they find Cyril’s body?” I forced myself to ask August on the walk back to Endlock

after the hunt, desperate to erase the image of the dead women from my mind.

“We left the wire cutters, so they’ll assume Cyril was trying to escape. If Perri’s smart, she won’t mention being there.

If she does, she’ll risk Larch thinking she was trying to escape, too. As much as she hates us now, I don’t think she’d implicate

herself.”

I nodded, a bit of relief flooding my aching bones.

Perri had been the fifth and last inmate to make it to the Blood Tree.

The two women who’d almost made it, Cyril, the boy who’d fallen into the pit of spikes, and the girl who’d gotten caught in

the leg trap. I ticked them off on my fingers.

A hunter must have finished off the prisoner with the broken leg, which meant that only three of the deaths had been at the hands of hunters. I didn’t know whether Larch would be frustrated, or if the hunters had found the obstacles exciting enough for the warden to consider the hunt a success.

When we reached Endlock, I noted Perri staring murderously at August. For once, I wasn’t the focus of her hatred.

I was desperate to speak with Vale to see if any of the guards had found Cyril’s body yet or mentioned the fence. But Larch

emerged from the prison, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and a frown playing on his lips as he muttered a few indistinct

words into the compact radio he held in his hand. He turned to address us.

“Inmates!” His voice cut through the murmured conversations. “Line up against the wall. Now.”

No one hesitated.

“Two of Endlock’s residents have been electrocuted to death,” Larch began, running a shaky hand over his dwindling strands

of hair.

I snapped my head around. Two people had died from the fence?

Maybe the girl who’d gotten caught in the trap had escaped and crawled all the way to the fence.

“We believe an inmate was trying to escape,” Larch continued. “And one of our guards tried to stop him, unaware that the perimeter

fence carried a deadly current.”

“One of the guards died?” Hyde called from his post, eyes wide.

One of the guards.

No. No.

What if it was—?

My heart dropped, and I gave up my calm facade, spinning wildly in search of Vale.

Larch gave a solemn nod. “Mort. He died preventing one of these criminals from leaving Endlock—a hero’s death.”

I closed my eyes. Vale was okay.

Mort’s dead.

A current of relief washed over me. No part of me mourned the guard’s death.

But Larch was wrong. Mort hadn’t died trying to stop Cyril—he hadn’t even been present during our altercation. He might have

foolishly walked into the fence, but wouldn’t Larch have warned all the guards about the obstacles?

My eyes finally found Vale standing by the building’s entrance. The weight of his gaze felt tangible, like the warm caress

of a hand running over my skin. Though his hands formed fists at his sides, I detected a slight tremor.

“Can anyone tell me more about this?” Larch asked, interrupting my thoughts. “Did any of you witness these deaths?”

I met Larch’s eyes, shaking my head and glancing around as if I expected another inmate to confess.

Silence.

I willed August not to look at me. Not to do anything that could give us away.

When my eyes flitted to Perri, she remained tight-lipped and unreadable. Save for her red-rimmed eyes, she looked much the

same as always.

“It seemed like an isolated incident,” Larch said. “But if we find out any of you are lying, you’ll spend the rest of your

miserable lives in solitary.”

Larch’s gaze settled on Vale, who leaned casually against the wall. With a slight tilt of his head, Larch signaled him forward

to escort us back inside.

Vale pushed himself off the wall and uttered a gruff “Follow me” as he opened the door that led back into Endlock.