The Lost

Also by Natasha Preston

The Cellar

Awake

The Cabin

You Will Be Mine

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Books. Change. Lives.

Copyright © 2019 by Natasha Preston

Cover and internal design © 2019 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

Cover design by Elsie Lyons

Cover images © Roy Bishop/arcangel; ilolab/Shutterstock; ultimathule/Shutterstock; design56/Shutterstock; PinkBlue/Shutterstock; thanasus/Shutterstock

Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

Published by Sourcebooks Fire, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

(630) 961-3900

Fax: (630) 961-2168

sourcebooks.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Preston, Natasha, author.

Title: The lost / Natasha Preston.

Description: Naperville, Illinois : Sourcebooks Fire, [2019] | Summary: While investigating the disappearance of one of their classmates, Piper and Hazel are kidnapped and taken to a building designed to keep them locked away, where every room is a method of torture and a test of survival.

Identifiers: LCCN 2018052409 | (trade pbk. : alk. paper)

Subjects: | CYAC: Kidnapping--Fiction. | Survival--Fiction.

Classification: LCC PZ7.P9234 Lo 2019 | DDC [Fic]--dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018052409

Contents

Front Cover

Title Page

Copyright

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Acknowledgments

About the Author

A Sneak Peek of You Will Be Mine

Back Cover

For Elizabeth

I was blown away when you told me you’d driven for fifteen hours from Florida to Texas to come and meet me at a signing. I will never forget getting to hang out with you for a while, and I’m so incredibly proud of where you are now.

1

Ten runaways. That’s what the police are calling them.

Ten teenagers have disappeared from our town this year, and it’s only June.

I gaze out the window of the aging café, the chipped, pale, magnolia paint making it look borderline derelict, but the food is good. It’s summer, but the weather hasn’t gotten the memo. Dark gray clouds swirl in the sky, threatening rain again. It’s been like that all day, short smatterings of drizzle. Rain that fizzles out as quickly as it appears. We have a long, school-free summer stretching out in front of us before our senior year. But we won’t be able to have any fun if the weather doesn’t get with the program.

Piper, another one bites the dust, Hazel says, waving a news article on her phone at me from across the table. She pushes her shoulder-length, dark curly hair behind her ear. Look.

ELEVENTH TEEN RUNAWAY.

Eleven gone.

Who is it this time?

Lucie Bean, sixteen years old. Same age as us again. She lives about thirty minutes away. Last seen two days ago outside Huck’s Café with friends. It says she left on her own but never made it home.

We live in Mauveton, population 5,839. It’s a densely populated but small town with nothing to do, and the biggest city near us is more than an hour away, which makes it one of the most boring places on earth.

But still, eleven runaways in seven months seems high.

They’ve all completely vanished without a trace.

Where did Lucie go to school, Hazel?

St. Drake’s.

Wow. Isn’t that, like, the third person from that school? I chew on my lip as I reach for her phone, so I can read the whole article.

What are you thinking? she asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

I’m thinking it’s only a matter of time before someone we’ve shared a classroom with disappears. There’s always been a high percentage of people taking off from this dead-end town, but over the last year or so, it has gotten worse. Much worse.

Hazel puts her phone down and drops her hands to the table on either side of her plate of fries—fries that she ordered for breakfast. Gross. You seriously think they’re missing, like someone has taken them, and they haven’t just run away?

If people are going to take off from here, they tend to do it when they’re eighteen. The number of younger runaways is multiplying. Don’t you think something is very wrong with that?

She chews another fry and swallows. Maybe. The cops don’t seem to share your concerns.

I shrug at her comment. Well, they probably know better than me.

I don’t know… What if you’re right? What if they don’t think anything strange is going on? She’s playing devil’s advocate here.

But what are we supposed to do about it? Just because I love watching mystery movies and TV shows doesn’t mean I’m qualified to find actual, real-life missing people.

Potentially missing people.

What do you recommend we do, Hazel?

Duh. We can try to find them.

Oh, simple as that. How?

By acting like average teenagers. Lifting her eyebrows, she looks at me in triumph. We’re going to go to parties and hang out with them…wherever they hang out.

I’m not following you here.

She rolls her dark brown eyes. To find teens, we need to live like teens. Stereotypical ones, I mean. I don’t think we count.

Hazel has a good point. Neither of us are extroverts. We spend most of our time hanging out at my house or hers, watching rom-coms after creepy mystery and thriller movies.

We definitely don’t count, I confirm.

We’re going to change that.

Why? I mean, why are you deciding to try and figure this thing out, Haze?

Tilting her head to the side, she replies, What else are we going to do all summer?

Well, nothing. Maybe we won’t find anything, or maybe we’ll discover where these people have run away to.

But either way, it seems like a maybe we’ll end up having a decent summer instead of spending the whole time indoors.

The call of even a smidge of social life is too loud to ignore. It might actually be nice to get out. We might be missing something by staying inside and by ourselves all the time. All right, I’m in.

Yes, Hazel cheers. Ooh, do you think we’ll uncover some sick serial killer’s lair?

No, I think we’ll find nothing, but we’ll end the summer with the knowledge that we have soaked in some vital vitamin D and aren’t total losers. So that’s a plus, right?

Hazel’s shoulders sag. Is your glass half empty today, Pipes?

No. I do believe something more is going on than teens skipping town, but I don’t think we’re going to find ourselves in the middle of some crime drama. We don’t know what we’re doing, and if the police can’t find anything, there’s nothing to suggest we’ll be able to.

I’m going to need full commitment from you here. We go into this with nothing but positivity.

Fine. Whatever. Let’s go catch a killer, I say to appease her.

Yay! She picks up another fry. I have two pastries and a coffee. Hazel has fries and a cup of tea. Where do we start?

The lake? I offer.

Her eyes widen like she’s suddenly realized what this whole social life thing will entail. Can we go there?

It’s not private property. Why couldn’t we go?

We’ve never been there. We’ve never been asked to go there.

It’s a public lake, Hazel. You don’t need an invitation.

But I know what she means. Lake-related conversations echo down the halls at school. Everyone who is anyone goes there most weekends. Most weeknights, too, in the summer.

But no one has ever suggested Hazel and I should go. We haven’t even suggested it to each other. We really do need a life.

Okay, I say, taking a hair elastic out of my pocket and tying my long, dark hair on top of my head. Let’s do it! Let’s meet at the lake tonight. And please act normal.

She scrunches up her face. I don’t know what you mean.

"That’s what I’m afraid of. You know you can’t hold back from telling people exactly what you think, and not everyone appreciates that. I’m not always going to be there to back you up."

Ah, but you will be there tonight.

Best. Behavior. I raise my eyebrows in warning.

The last thing we need on our very first outing is to be ostracized. I’m not really sure what kind of reception we’re going to get anyway.

The café bell dings obnoxiously from the force of the door being shoved open.

Hazel and I look over at the same time to see two handsome college guys walk into the café, dressed in clothes that probably cost more than my parents’ car.

I think their names are Caleb and Owen. I know of them because their superrich parents are part of an organization that donates a lot to local charities.

They live a few miles out in a development with the other wealthy people, and only come to this part of town when they’re dropping off donations.

But are they donating to the café? Not that it couldn’t use an injection of cash, but it’s hardly a charity.

Hazel cranes her neck to get a better look at them. In fact, everyone in here is doing the same thing. I glance over my shoulder as they head to the counter. I can’t figure out what they’re saying, even though the room is so dead quiet, you could hear a mouse sneeze.

After a minute, they’re handed two takeout cups of coffee. As they turn to leave, I swing my head back, biting my lips together.

Oh crap. I hope they didn’t catch me staring.

My face heats up like an inferno, and Hazel’s eyes widen at me. I don’t know if she’s trying to tell me that I’m busted? Or is she marveling at their chiseled beauty and matching, sleek haircuts?

What products do they even use to get their hair that shiny?

They pass by us, and out of the corner of my eye, I see one of them turn his head to look at me. What do I do?

Against my better judgment, I look. Crystal-blue eyes peer at me, unashamed and unapologetic. I’m very sure my eyes do not convey the same thing. I think the guy looking at me is Caleb. Both have blond hair, short and styled in a swept-to-the-side fashion. Both wear crisp, navy pants and button-up shirts with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. It’s like the rich-guy uniform.

Caleb dips his head in my direction, his blond hair falling just a fraction out of place. And then he’s gone.

The bell dings again as the door opens and closes.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, my head spinning from the lack of oxygen.

Did you see that? He looked at you! Hazel gushes. Like, he looked at you! And you know I love you, babe, but your hair is a total mess right now.

Thank you, I mutter sarcastically. I push the rest of my pastry away. After that, I suddenly don’t feel much like eating. Caleb couldn’t have been looking at me really, though, could he? Not that it matters. I’m too young for him. Let’s get our bikes. I need to go home and figure out my makeup before tonight.

Hazel stands. Don’t forget to do something with your hair, too.

2

I lock my bike to the rack outside the library.

It’s eight at night, but the sun hasn’t yet set yet behind a sea of gray clouds. Shame it’s still drizzling, too. I walk down the long path to the lake and pull my hood up.

I straightened my hair, and it now hangs to my waist. It took forever, but it does look much better. I didn’t bother with much makeup since I’d probably come out looking like a clown. But I have on mascara and some lip gloss, which is more than I usually bother with.

I reach the path leading to the dirt trail down to the lake when a guy, an impossibly good-looking guy, runs across the road from the other side. He doesn’t even look where he’s going…because his eyes are on me. Wait. It’s Caleb. Again?

He stops in front of me and smiles. Wow, he has a nice pearly white smile. Hey, he says.

Hi, I reply, trying not to frown. Are you okay?

Why is he here?

Yes. Sorry, I saw you from back there. He scratches the back of his neck as if he’s nervous talking to me. And this morning. Are you going to the lake?

He remembers me from this morning!

That was the plan. Can I help you with something? I say, keeping my voice ice cool like a total champ. Inside, I’m somersaulting.

Kind of, he replies with an amused grin. You could talk to me.

Sort of an odd request from a virtual stranger.

Talk to you? I ask.

Shrugging a shoulder, he replies, Why not?

Oh, he smells nice, too, like he’s fresh out of the shower. I want to step close.

I don’t know you.

I know. Do you see my problem now?

I shake my head. No, not really.

Laughing, he steps closer. I’m Caleb, he says.

I know who he is, but I don’t know him.

Piper, I reply.

Nice name.

Thanks. What is he doing talking to me?

Are you at the university here or…?

I shake my head, feeling like a child. High school.

Ah, I thought you might be.

I look like I’m in high school then, I mutter. Maybe I should have tried a little more makeup. Nah, I would’ve looked like a clown.

No. The opposite actually. It’s just my luck that you’re not yet eighteen, so I can’t ask you out.

Lifting my eyebrow, I feel some of the initial shock of him coming up to me beginning to wear off and the snarky girl returning. What makes you think I would want to go out with you anyway?

His blue eyes shine in amusement. I think I could convince you.

I think he could, too.

Well, Caleb, I guess we’ll never know. I’m not quite eighteen yet.

And by not quite, I mean my eighteenth birthday is ten months away.

Chewing on his lip, he watches me for a second, his mind seeming to work overtime. God, I would love to get inside his head right now. I wait to see whether I’m going to be privileged enough to hear what he’s thinking. I’m twenty-one.

Four years isn’t that much of an age gap. Okay, who am I kidding, and why am I even thinking about this?

Dusting off the stupid thoughts running through my mind, I take one step back as if the slightly larger distance will somehow make me think straight. I should find my friend. She’s waiting for me at the lake.

He looks down the trail, his eyes scanning for something or someone, then his attention is back on me. You’re going alone?

Yeah. I left my bike at the bike rack outside the library.

He looks back at the trail to the lake. Let me walk you.

Thanks, Caleb, but I’ve done this tons of times before.

So, maybe not tons, because Hazel and I haven’t been here before, but I don’t want to sound like a loser in front of him. For some dumb reason, and this is the first time this has happened, I care what someone thinks of me—what a boy thinks of me.

Oh, how things can change in a heartbeat.

You’re sure? His prominent frown deepens. I don’t like the idea of you walking alone.

Totally. Thanks anyway. I turn to leave, but Caleb captures my wrist.

Wait a sec. Are you on Facebook?

There are still people who aren’t?

He chuckles. I’ll find you, Piper…?

Willis.

With a sharp nod, he lets go of my wrist and walks away.

He’s going to find me on Facebook. What is my life right now?

I head down the trail to look for Hazel, and the rain finally stops. There are people from all three high schools in the area. The size of the crowd is easily over a hundred, so finding Hazel isn’t going to be easy. She left before me and lives closer, so she has to be here already.

It’s really warm tonight, so why anyone felt the need to light a damn bonfire, I’ll never know. Though I’m impressed they got the fire going with the drizzle. Hazel hates heat, so she won’t be near that. I’m the opposite; I’d rather be too hot than even a little bit cold.

By some miracle, I spot her right away. She’s talking to three girls I don’t recognize. Her arms are folded, and one of her eyebrows is arched. She looks as if she’s giving them attitude.

This will be fun.

I power walk over to her, and it’s only when I get close that I realize what this is about: Lucie. Missing girl number eleven.

How do you not know? She was your friend! Hazel says.

The three girls look at each other.

What’s going on? I ask Hazel, stopping beside her and smiling at the girls who look a little scared of my socially awkward friend.

Hazel’s head tilts in my direction. Lucie’s friends don’t know why she left or where she’s gone.

Everyone wants to get out of this hellish town, the one in the middle shoots back, firing one impressive death glare at us.

Hazel might be a little blunt, but she’s my friend. Still weird, though. I mean, she was your friend and you had no idea that she was going to take off? I say.

They turn their attention to me, and the girl in the middle, the spokesperson for the group apparently, huffs. Get out of our business. You don’t know Lucie, so save your opinions.

I’m not judging you, but who runs away without telling a single person where they’re going? Or at least leaving a hint?

Well, obviously people who don’t want to be found, like Lucie.

I raise my palms. Okay. We were just curious.

Well, don’t be. This has nothing to do with you, the girl snaps. She walks off first, and the other two follow like good little puppets.

I turn to Hazel. What was that about?

Shrugging, she raises her eyes to me. I overheard them talking about Lucie, saying she hadn’t replied to their texts.

And you couldn’t help yourself?

She turns her nose up. I think it’s a disease.

Laughing at her, I nudge her toward the cooler. Come on, let’s at least act like we belong here.

"You don’t think it’s weird? Lucie’s best friends know nothing about her wanting to leave town. I mean specifically. Where does Lucie want to go? What does she want to do? Surely those are things that her friends would know?" Hazel asks as we head to get a can of…something.

Sure, but I don’t think they’re going to tell us anything since you didn’t exactly make friends back there.

She scoffs. Whatever.

Do you think anyone here knows anything about the runaways?

I bet they do.

I stop walking. Ooh, maybe some of them are involved in human trafficking? Or doing some creepy, cultish sacrificing?

Calm down with the horror movies, Piper.

You never know, I grumble.

Hazel reaches down and grabs us two Cokes from the cooler. I’m bored of this now. It was a mistake, it’s not fun. When can we leave?

"I just got here!"

She turns her nose up, her curly hair bouncing in the breeze. "That’s your problem. I’ve already been here