The Capture
THE MAZE RUNNER meets THE HUNGER GAMES in this heart-pounding teen trilogy. This daring sequel to THE PREY is a riveting story of survival, courage and doing what’s right, no matter how hard.Every night I dreamt of the bunker beneath the tennis court. I couldn’t let it go. As bad as the memory was, my dreams only made it worse . . . It was why we had to get back to Camp Liberty. Why we had to free them, too.Book, Hope and Cat can’t settle into their new free lives knowing that other LTs and Sisters are still imprisoned at the camp. But with new enemies lurking in the shadows, a rescue mission will not be easy. The group must put their fate in the hands of unexpected allies, but at what cost? They must ask themselves what they’re willing to do to free their friends – and what will happen if the place they left behind is no longer the way it was.
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HarperVoyager
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2016
Copyright © Tom Isbell 2016
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2016
Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com
Tom Isbell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007528226
Ebook Edition © January 2016 ISBN: 9780007528219
Version: 2015-12-18
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Part One: The Road Back
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Part Two: Capture
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Part Three: Return
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also By Tom Isbell
About the Publisher
When men take up arms to set other men free, there is something sacred and holy in the warfare.
âPRESIDENT WOODROW WILSON
HE WALKS THROUGH THE valley of shadows, surviving fire and flood, flames and torrents. Marching across the barren wilderness, he carries in his heart the faint memory of those who went before him. In his veins runs the blood of warriors, the pulse of poets.
Pursuing him are those who will not rest. Like lions, they track him, chasing him across the smoke-filled prairies, the desolate hills, the sun-stroked plains. The rivers shall turn against him, as shall the fields and forests.
Though he gathers friends, there are those who will betray him. Friend will become foe and foe become friend.
But my beloved fears not. He shall mount up with wings like the birds of the air, shall burrow beneath the earth like creatures of the dark, shall carry great loads like beasts of prey, shall run and not grow weary.
My beloved, in whom I am well pleased.
THEY LOOKED AT ME with hollow, vacant staresâtheir sunken cheeks more like ghostsâ than human beingsâ. Festering sores tattooed their bodies, and their pleading eyes cut circles in the black.
Please, their expressions said, as they strained against the chains that pinned them to the bunker walls. Get us out of here.
There were a dozen of them, boys my age, and the more I took in their emaciated bodiesâthe bones pushing against skin, the bloodshot eyes and skull-like facesâthe more I realized I didnât know how to help them. I had no idea, no solution for unlocking their shackles and setting them free.
You must, one of them said, as if Iâd voiced my thoughts aloud, and soon all of them were saying itâYou must, you mustâtheir voices growing louder and more insistent until it was a kind of song, a raspy chant from begging faces.
You must. Help us.
âBut I canât. I donât know how â¦â
You must help us.
âI donât know how!â
YOU MUST HELP US!
I woke with a start, my T-shirt damp with sweat. With trembling hands I tried to rub the sleep from my eyes ⦠and the image from my mind.
