Chapter 9 · The Dead Man Who Knew My Name

"She's not breathing right." I drag Amy into her tent before anyone sees the blood on my sleeve. Mine. The bite punched through to the bone, and the wound is already closing under the torn fabric.

Amy grabs my wrist. Her teeth click together. "Qin, what was that?"

"A sick coyote." I shove the tent flap shut. "You hit your head. Stay down. Don't tell anyone."

"That wasn't a coyote. It stood up."

"You were scared."

"I'm not stupid."

She's nine, shaking hard enough to rattle the bedroll, and still fighting me. I crouch beside her and press my clean hand over hers. Her pulse jumps beneath my fingers.

"Listen to me," I say. "You saw an animal. You fell. I killed it. That's all."

"Why's your arm bleeding?"

I glance at the sleeve. The cloth is soaked. Under it, my skin has already pulled itself together.

"It got me first."

"Then why aren't you screaming?"

Because the pain stopped before the blood did. Because my body keeps doing things a human body can't do. Because Edith told me there were three more west of camp, and the next one knew my name.

I give Amy a tight smile.