by Simon Lelic
“One Snickers bar,” said Cora. “Whoop-de-doo.”
“It’s a Duo,” I countered. I didn’t mention it had melted in the heat.
“I brought Pringles,” chipped in Abi. “They were for snacking, but . . . Well.” She sucked in her tummy, smoothed her hands down the rear of her shorts. “Maybe limited rations would be good for us.”
“You’re not fat, Abi,” said Cora, rolling her eyes toward Mason.
“What? Who said I was?”
“Lara Sweeney did. She called you a piggy. And you haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”
“She called us both piggies, actually,” said Abi. “And anyway, I wasn’t even listening.”
Another eye roll from Cora.
“What flavor?” said Mason.
“Huh?” said Abi.
“What flavor Pringles?”
“Does it matter?” said Luke.
“Well, if they’re barbecue I’d rather eat my own vomit.”
Cora snorted. “The more for the rest of us,” she said.
“They’re salt-and-vinegar,” said Abi. “Obvs. Barbecue make your fingers smell of cat’s poo.”
There were nods of agreement. Personally, I’d have taken barbecue over salt-and-vinegar any day of the week. But at least they weren’t sour-cream-and-onion.
“So, one tube of salt-and-vinegar Pringles,” said Cora, “one Snickers bar—”
“Duo,” I said.
“Duo,” she conceded. “Is that it? Has anyone got anything else? What about water? Did everybody at least bring a bottle of water?”
We had, all of us. Which was something. And it turned out that, as well as Pringles, Abi had also brought nuts. And sunflower seeds. And a massive bar of Dairy Milk chocolate. All for snacks, she said, which is why she didn’t mention them at first when we were talking about food. Mason had Rizla, rolling tobacco and Fruit Pastilles. Luke had a sharing bag of Doritos and half a packet of Jelly Babies he’d saved from the cinema and had meant to give to Dylan. Cora had cigarettes and gum.
So the food situation wasn’t even that bad, either.
“What else has everybody got?” said Cora. “I mean, aside from the midnight feast and Fash’s blanket.” She looked at Abi first, because Abi’s rucksack was the fullest. “No, wait, don’t tell me,” Cora said, when Abi opened her mouth to speak. “Let me guess . . .” She shut her eyes and held out a hand, like Luke Skywalker trying to use the force. “You brought . . . your makeup kit. And your hair straighteners. And the Love Island special pullout section from last week’s Heat magazine.”
Abi glowered. “It’s mainly clothes, actually,” she said. “Apart from all the food that everyone else completely overlooked. And you’re welcome for that, by the way.” She looked in her bag. “And I brought this, because I knew you lot would all forget to bring one as well.”
She dangled a plug by its lead.
“A phone charger,” said Cora. “You brought a phone charger.”
I saw Mason give something like a smile. “Nice one, Abi,” he said. “And you’re right. I completely forgot to pack mine.”
Abi took that as a victory, and shot Cora this look.
“What about you, Cora?” Mason said to her, because it was obvious Cora was about to burst. “What have you got in your bag?”
Cora’s bag looked the lightest.
“I told you what I brought,” she said. “Water, fags and gum. And a groundsheet from my stepdad’s camping gear for us to sleep on.”
“A groundsheet?” I said. “How is that any different from a blanket?”
“Duh,” said Cora. “Groundsheets are for the ground. Blankets are for on top. It’s like the difference between a hat and a pair of shoes.”
My mouth was open, but I didn’t say anything. It’s like, if Mason had brought a blanket, I bet Cora would have said it was the smartest idea in the world.
“I brought a torch,” said Mason. “Two torches, actually. My iPod. And some portable speakers. Battery-powered,” he added, with a glance at Abi.
“Cool,” said Cora.
You see what I mean?
Obviously Mason didn’t mention anything else he’d brought. Maybe I should have been paying closer attention at the time.
“What about you, Luke?” said Abi. “What did you bring?”
Luke was sitting on the ground.
“Luke?” said Cora, gently.
“Sorry, I . . . Nothing much, I guess. A torch, like Mason. Dylan’s old army compass. And some . . . some stuff of Sadie’s.”
Nobody spoke. The rest of us looked at each other over Luke’s head.
Cora crouched down beside him. “What kind of stuff?” she said.
Luke looked sort of ashamed. “Stupid stuff. Just . . . a jumper she liked. Her hairbrush. A book. An old one. About some girl. She used to read it over and over. Not recently. But when she was younger.”
“Anne of Green Gables,” said Abi, kneeling down, too. “Right? I remember it was always her favorite. She kept it face out on her bookshelf so she could always see the cover.”
Luke nodded. “When you came by, I just . . . I dunno. I grabbed some of the stuff I thought she’d like. That she might . . . need.”
I met Cora’s eye, and we both looked down.
Luke got to his feet.
“But it’s a waste of time. You all know it is. I should never have come in the first place. None of us should have. I should be at home, looking after Dylan. Who’s he got left now if he hasn’t got me?”
“He’s got your aunt, remember?” I said. “And your parents will be back soon. They’ll make sure he—”
“Fuck them,” snapped Luke, bitterly.
He looked at the rest of us, all staring at him in shock. “Seriously, fuck ’em.” He looked down again, started scratching at the ground with a twig. “It’s like, all that stuff they’re saying about them online? The stuff Lara was going on about? I wouldn’t even be surprised if it was true.”
“Luke!” said Cora.
“What?”
“You can’t say that. You shouldn’t!”
“Why not? If you ask me, it’s more likely they had something to do with whatever happened to Sadie than . . .” Luke stopped himself. His eyes flicked toward Mason.
“Than me, you mean?” said Mason. “It’s all right. You can say it. And actually, I happen to agree.”
“For Christ’s sake, Mase,” said Cora.
“What? It’s true. I know I had nothing to do with it. Which means, as far as I’m concerned, everyone else is more likely to have killed her than me.”
“Shut up!” said Abi, springing to her feet. “Just . . . fucking . . . shut up, will you? We don’t even know she’s dead! I mean, that’s why we’re out here, isn’t it? To try to find her? So why would you say that?”
Mason didn’t even flinch. He looked at Abi and tilted his head.
“Look,” I said, with a glance at Luke, who was staring out into the woods now. “Let’s not talk about it. OK?”
“It’s a search party, Fash,” said Mason. He was still looking at Abi. “What the hell else are we supposed to talk about?”
“No, I know, but . . . let’s not talk about it like that. Let’s just . . . I don’t know. Work out how we’re going to do this.”
“What do you mean?” said Cora.
“Well, we agreed we’d give ourselves till tomorrow evening, right?” I said.
“Who agreed that?” said Mason. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.” He looked at me sharply.
“No, I . . . It’s just what we thought,” I said. “Me and Cora.”
Mason looked at Cora, who shrugged.
“And besides,” I said, “if we’re gone any longer than that, they’ll send a search party out looking for us.”
�
�Not my parents,” said Cora. “They won’t even notice I’m gone.”
Luke gave Cora a grunt of sympathy.
“If you ask me,” said Mason, “we should stay out here as long as it takes. If we’re serious about doing this, I mean.”
“Well, however long we stay out here,” said Cora, “we need a plan. A system, just like Fash said. Otherwise we’re just wandering in the forest. And I know we know the parts around here, but in case you hadn’t noticed, it goes on for miles. If we get lost . . .”
“We’re not going to get lost,” said Mason. “We know the woods better than anyone.”
Cora looked at him then, and sort of frowned.
“That’s right,” I said, quickly. “We do. These parts at least, just like Cora said. So how about we stick to the area we know? We work north, but at the same time weave from east to west. Like . . . like Snakes and Ladders. And we walk in a row. A couple of meters apart. The way they were doing in the line searches along the banks of the river. That way we won’t miss anything.”
“Miss what, though?” Abi said. “And why are we looking here? The police already came this far, before they turned around and started focusing on the river. Which must have been for a reason, right? They’ve got to know what they’re doing better than we do.”
Mason gave a snort. “The cops haven’t got a clue. Trust me. They’ve been searching the river for days now and all they’ve found is Sadie’s bag.”
He looked at Abi again, the way he was doing before.
Abi swallowed.
“I don’t know, guys,” she said. “I mean, what if Luke’s right? What if we’re kidding ourselves? What if it is all just a waste of time?”
“It’s not a waste of time,” I said. “You were right what you said before. We don’t know Sadie’s dead. And Mason’s right, too—we don’t know the cops are looking in the right place. Not for certain. Maybe . . . maybe Sadie came out here to get away from it all. Just for a walk or something. We know she liked to do that, right?”
I looked at Luke, who nodded.
“So maybe she got hurt somehow. Like, twisted her ankle or something. And she’s lying out here waiting for someone to come and find her.”
I know, I know. But you hear stories about people surviving in the wilderness all the time. Like that guy in the Grand Canyon, who got his hand stuck underneath a boulder. Was it the Grand Canyon? They made a film about it. Me and the others, we watched it together. Except for Abi, who doesn’t really count, because she spent most of the time staring at her phone.
But my point was, why did it have to be murder? Why was everyone—the police, our parents, the entire town—assuming the worst? It could have happened the way I said. I’m not saying it did, but . . . I don’t know. At least it was better than thinking about the alternative.
But Abi didn’t look convinced. She folded her arms across her chest.
“For Christ’s sake, Abi,” said Cora. “I thought you were up for it.”
“I am,” Abi said. “I was.” Her eyes kept flicking toward Mason. “I am,” she settled on. “I guess.”
I turned to Luke then. We all did. Because it felt right that Luke should have the final say.
“Luke?” I said. “What do you reckon?”
He looked at me for a minute, then out again into the woods, before lifting his eyes toward the treetops.
He hooked his rucksack over his shoulder.
“I reckon we should probably get going,” he said. “Before it starts getting dark.”
CORA
AS WE WALKED I kept thinking about what Mason had said. You know, that as far as he was concerned, when it came to Sadie, everyone was a suspect.
And I started to wonder.
About Sadie’s parents, a bit. Because those rumors could have been true. You know, that they did stuff. To Sadie. Or at least that her dad did. You’d never have guessed it, looking at her, or based on anything she ever said. But Mr. S has always creeped me out a bit. He’s just so . . . obsessed. Obsessive. Which I have to say, I used to be jealous of. Having a dad, to start with, not a stepdad who doesn’t even count. But also a dad who actually cares what you’re doing, and always wants to show you off. A mum, too. Not like my mum, who’s basically at the opposite end of the scale. It’s like I told you, I could have been out in the woods for a week already, and she wouldn’t have noticed I was gone. Or if she noticed, she wouldn’t have done anything about it. It’s like, God forbid she take on some fucking responsibility. God forbid she start behaving like a grown-up.
But then, the more I thought about it, maybe what Sadie had wasn’t so great after all. I mean, it wasn’t normal. Was it? And her parents were never like that with Luke and Dylan. So what made Sadie any different? The fact that she was good at stuff? Or maybe, for her dad, that she was a girl?
And then I started wondering about other people, too. Like Mr. Prior, at school, who everyone goes on about being a pedo. And I know for a fact there’s a pedo who lives on Bay Street, because there was that whole demonstration there when people found out. Or maybe he wasn’t a pedo in the end. I can’t actually remember what happened, other than he got beaten up. But my point is, this town is full of weirdos, and those are just the ones you see. Because with people, you never really know, do you? What they’re hiding. What they’re lying about. What it is they might have done.
Which is how I also started wondering about us.
Take Luke, for example. I feel bad now for even saying it, for even thinking it at the time, but my mind just started working by itself. And with Luke I was thinking, how would I feel? If I had a twin and my parents loved my sister more than me. If they spent all their time and attention and their money on her, and treated me like I was nothing more than the live-in help. Look after your brother, Luke. Go see what Dylan wants. For Christ’s sake, will you tell your brother to be quiet?
You know that Dylan was an accident, right? Sadie’s parents only didn’t get rid of him because of their beliefs. Because they’re Catholic, basically. And Luke always said he was an accident as well. He was like the toy in the packet of cornflakes, he reckoned. The buy-one-get-one-free. He never acted like he blamed Sadie, though. What I always thought was, him and Dylan loved her just as much as she loved them. More even. And Luke and Sadie were twins, you know? They couldn’t read each other’s mind or anything, but they were closer than any brother and sister I’ve ever known. They hung out together, for a start, and what brother and sister do you know who do that?
But the thing is, deep down, who knows what might have been going on in Luke’s head. Maybe there just comes a point. I mean, all brothers and sisters argue, right? And maybe, the calmer things are between them generally, the more explosive the fights turn out to be . . .
So, yeah, watching Luke forge ahead through the trees, swinging a stick he’d found from somewhere at the leaves, I started imagining him swinging something at Sadie. Just . . . snapping. Not necessarily on purpose. But for Sadie the result would have been the same.
And then there was Fash. He was walking behind Luke, not even trying to catch up. He kept looking over his shoulder. Maybe he was just being paranoid the way I was, because I kept checking to see where Abi was, too. But the more I watched him, the more it looked like he wanted to be on his own. He looked worried about something. Guilty. As though there was something that was playing on his mind.
And the other thing about Fash, the thing you probably don’t know about, is that he always had sort of a thing for Sadie. He would never have admitted it, obviously, and he’d deny it if you asked him about it now. Especially now. Jesus. But if you hung out with them both, and you paid attention, you noticed it more and more. Fash would watch her, just little glances, and then he’d look at Mason to see if he’d noticed. And when Sadie touched him, like on the arm or something—Sadie was always touching people on their arms—Fash would go all te
nse. Just for a second, as though he’d been touched by a wire and a little jolt of electricity had shot through his body. And OK, everybody had a thing for Sadie. But maybe, with everything else—with Fash’s mum, and all the shit he put up with on a daily basis—things were just building up. Like with Luke, I guess, except different. Like in that movie, the black-and-white one, the one Mason has a poster of on his wall. Where that bloke kills the woman in the shower. Which on the one hand sounds completely ridiculous, comparing Fash to a psycho with a knife . . .
Psycho. That’s what I meant.
But in a way that’s the whole point I’m trying to make. Nothing makes sense. None of it. Why would anyone want to kill Sadie, is what I’m saying. So why should one explanation seem more unlikely than any other?
And fucking Abi. I didn’t like her trailing along behind me. At least with Fash and Luke I could see them. And Abi was acting guiltiest of all. She didn’t want to be there, clearly. She didn’t want any of us to be there. I mean, she wasn’t even looking, for Christ’s sake. Every time I turned around, all I saw was her staring at her phone, shoving sunflower seeds into that gob of hers when she figured nobody was watching. Which was another clue. Because when Abi stuffs her face like that, it’s a sure sign she’s feeling nervous.
And Abi’s always been jealous of Sadie. Always. She would never have admitted it, obviously, but Sadie’s was the life she wished she had. She would have given anything to look the way Sadie did, for a start. To be blonde rather than brunette, to have blue eyes instead of plain brown. To be as popular as Sadie was, too. As talented. As loved, I guess, is the sad part, particularly when you think about Abi’s dad. So who knows? Maybe Abi had just had enough. Like, it must be exhausting trying to catch up all the time, so instead, maybe what she thought was, rather than trying to catch the leader I’ll knock the leader out of the race.
