Powdered milk. Check.

Ramen noodles. Check.

Three crates of eggs. Check.

Giant bag of pinto beans (yuck). Check.

Cheetos (for Jane). Check.

Tampons (for me). Check.

Charms lollipops with gum in the center. (Because they make life better.) Check.

A few items, like toilet paper and razors, are impulse grabs.

My loot ends up being twenty items total. The pallets are sent by the government outside the tainted borderlands, so everything is family size.

I glance over my wimpy arm muscles. This could take a while.

A quick check outside the window above the door shows the coast is clear. The light is fading, the world outside a silvery-gray.

I laugh at the new deadbolt as I unlock the door and prop it open with a rock. Deadbolt, Cal? Really? That’s all you got?

I would give almost anything to see Cal’s face when he realizes I was inside this whole time.

It takes five trips to haul everything to my wheelbarrow, and when I’m done, I’m sucking humid Texas air like it’s the sugar inside pixie straws.

Right before I leave, a mental image of the cat, his ribs sticking out, flashes across my mind.

No. I will not go back for the cat. I will not . . .

I go back for the damned cat. The poor guy practically throws himself into my arms, yowling so loud my aunts can probably hear it back at the farmhouse. His legs clasp around my neck, his claws digging into my flesh.

“Shh,” I whisper-scold. “Chatty Cat, if you’re coming with me, you have to be quiet.”

Thank God he stops making his crazy noises, and I grab a twenty-pack of canned tuna before we head outside.

Chatty Cat is practically glommed onto my face. With a little effort, and a lot of cursing, I peel him off. The cat and the tuna go in the wheelbarrow. He settles on top of the packages of ramen, curls up, and immediately begins to purr.

I pick my compound bow up and toss it onto the pile. Pretty sure Cal’s arsenal of guns trumps my one bow, but the weapon’s not for humans.

This close to the Shimmer—the magical veil that separates our world from the Fae’s—everyone needs to be armed. The things that seep from the other side are inhuman, and it’s not just the Fae.

When their magical war made everything go kablooey, the same magic transformed the nearest people into monsters we call darklings.

The Shimmer isn’t just for keeping us out of their lands; it’s for keeping the darklings out.

But sometimes they find their way into the borderlands anyway. And lately, the killings have increased. My heart spikes as I recall how, for the last week, tracks from something inhuman have appeared outside my house. The paw prints definitely canine but too large to be normal wolves.

Pushing the thought from my mind, I snatch a lollipop from the wheelbarrow and pocket five more, savoring the sour-apple flavor that explodes on my tongue. After nearly a day of nothing to eat, my body jerks as the sugar enters my bloodstream.

An owl hoots from the roof, reminding me I need to hurry. The creature perches right above us, his amber eyes seeming to glow, his orchid-white feathers bright against the dark sky. For reasons I can’t really explain, the owl shows up nearly everywhere.

And his presence has gotten even more persistent in the last week too.

“Wouldn’t be a party without you,” I mutter before refocusing on the task.

I glance over my bow, the string close to snapping. A gun would be better, but ammo’s expensive. Especially iron-coated bullets, which are the only type that can put a Fae or darkling down.

In the Tainted Zone, iron is worth more than gold.

Chatty Cat suddenly begins to growl. At the same time, the white owl takes to the sky, his shadow flickering over the lawn and drawing my attention to movement behind me.

My heart slams into my throat as I whip around to see a light coming from my right, the bright orb bouncing over the lawn.

Flashlight.

Which means someone is attached to that flashlight.

2

Hell fire. I grab the splintery ends of the wheelbarrow handles and shove it across the lumpy grass, my boots digging into the soil for traction.

Heavy. It’s too heavy!

I aim for the woods twenty yards away. Every bump nearly topples the wheelbarrow as it careens all over the damn place.

A male voice yells behind me. “Stop!”

Yeah right. Does any criminal actually stop when they’re told?

I break into a sprint. Chatty Cat’s eyes are saucers, his claws dug into the ramen for dear life. My package of tampons straight up bounces out of my wheelbarrow.

Damn.

I barely hesitate before plunging into the dark woods. I’m hoping the guard won’t follow me. Most are terrified of the forest at night, especially this close to the Shimmer.

I crane my neck back, only to see the guard standing at the edge of the tree line. He lifts his pistol, squints, and then a red flash lights up his gun’s muzzle. At the same time, a loud pop splits the air.

The bullet hits the tree next to me, leaving a quarter-sized hole in the bark and propelling wood splinters into my jeans.

“You mother cracker!” I growl, sending my lollipop tumbling from my lips as I plunge deeper into the forest. My heart is lodged in my throat and I’m breathing so loud I can’t hear anything else. My too-loose jeans sag low on my sharp hip bones. My belt is fixed at the last hole, but still it’s not tight enough.

Yanking my jeans up, I blindly burrow deeper and deeper into the forest.

Once upon a time I could run a fairly decent mile, even in this infernal heat. But we had a herd of cattle then, a couple good dairy cows, some chickens, plus the biggest garden this side of Texas.

Hard to make your muscles obey when you have nothing to entice them with but saltine crackers and gruel.

Staggering across the carpet of underbrush, I fight the darkness nibbling my vision to jagged crumbs. Limbs claw at my bare arms and rip my tank top.

Panic strangles my heart, and I blindly punch farther into the woods. If I’m caught, my family will suffer.

Since they cordoned off our lands and closed the last of our trade routes, everyone in the Tainted Zone—the long four-hundred mile wide border zone that goes vertical from North Dakota to the tip of Texas—is struggling.

The government from the Untouched Zone in the East sends us food and water, but the Millers confiscate everything that arrives. For safekeeping, they promise.

Not sure when safekeeping something turned into selling it back to the people for five times what it’s worth, but when you’re as rich and powerful as Cal and his family, you get to make shit up.

Righteous fury steels my resolve. I tug my lips between my teeth until sharp pain punches away the dizziness. Coppery warmth pools beneath my tongue as I pause to get my bearings.

Surely the guy didn’t follow me this far.

A yellow disc of light sweeps over the trunk of a huge oak ten feet to my right.

Oberon’s luck!

Dragging in a lungful of air, I try to force the now half-deflated wheelbarrow tire over a fallen tree, sending the rickety contraption reeling sideways. I watch in horror as the contents spill out onto the forest floor.

Chatty Cat lands on his feet. Ears flattened, he pins me with a look of supreme annoyance.

I so feel you, Chatty.

Before I have time to process what this means for my family, my gaze locks onto something even more dangerous than the man behind me.

The Shimmer. It sweeps across the forest a few steps away, an undulating wall of iridescent magic. Compared to the muddy-brown of the trees, it burns bright and metallic and beautiful. The kind of beautiful that takes your breath away and makes you feel both hollow and full inside.

On the other side is the Everwilde, which is just a fancy name for the realm of the Fae. Or, as I like to call it, the place you should never ever visit unless you want to die.

I crane my neck, trailing the twinkling curtain up up up into the moonlit sky.

“Hands up!” the guard calls from behind me. His voice is shaky and quick. He sees the Shimmer too.

A warning prickle scrapes down my spine, but it has nothing to do with the guard or the gun pointed at my back.

Everything goes still, as if, this near to the Everwilde, there is no sound. No life. Nothing.

I should turn around and give myself up. Being this close to their world is madness. I can feel the danger of it sweeping over me like a drug, ramping up my pulse, my breathing.

One roided-out guard with a gun is child’s play compared to what awaits me on the other side.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” the guard growls. His voice is closer; he’s no more than seven feet away.

I glance over my shoulder and immediately recognize the guard. Bryce Hawkins, a heavyweight wrestler a year ahead of me in school.

“Summer?” he barks, spitting my name out like a curse. “What the hell are you doing?”

I whip around, hoping to hide my face, but it’s too late. He’s already seen me.

Craptastic. No way Cal lets this go.

Reminder to self: criminals wear disguises for a reason.

In my mind’s eye, I picture the white farmhouse in the distance. The dark shapes bobbing around the lawn could be goats or even cows—if any of those were around anymore. But I know that each blob is a child. An orphan, like me. Rescued from horrible situations I can’t bear to revisit.

I can’t leave them. If Cal or his father catch me . . . there is no law here. No courts or justice. In the borderlands, the Millers are the law—which means I’m screwed.

Unless . . .

I take a step toward the Shimmer, heart thundering in my chest.

It’s mesmerizing. Completely, utterly wonderful in its strangeness. The way the rainbow surface seems to move and slide like the shell of a bubble. A breeze emanates from the other side, cool and biting against my bare arms. A few fluffy snowflakes break through and cling to my cheek where they immediately turn to water.

In this infernal heat, it seems impossible that only a few feet away lies a place of frost and magic and strange, dangerous beings. A place where day is night and summer is winter and the ordinary is extraordinary.

I place a hand on the wall. It’s frigid and smooth and gelatinous, not at all solid like I imagined.