by Callie Hart
I realize something, as I’m about to speak, though. “Wait. That knife. I recognize that knife. That’s the knife that I found sticking out of my bed!”
Fitz laughs, tossing his head back. “God, you’re so fucking self important, aren’t you? Oh my bed. My precious books. My things. Wah wah wah. Dean Harcourt left it in the drawer of her desk, so I took it back. I’ve had this knife a very long time, y’know. I didn’t really feel like letting her keep it for good.”
“Why the hell did you trash my room?”
The doctor growls, inching closer. “I didn’t have a choice, did I? That room sat empty for months, but then you came along. I still hadn’t found Mara’s stupid journal or Wren’s sweater. It was only a matter of time before you stumbled across them and started asking questions. So I tore everything apart. I looked high and low. I would have found them, too, but then you came back to your room. I could hear you on the phone complaining about your father in the stairwell, and I bolted.”
“God, you are so fucked up,” Carina mumbles.
I’m still processing all of this, but the muddled pieces of information that were making my head hurt all begin to snap together. “You’re the one she wrote about in her journal. Not Wren. You’re the one she was afraid of.”
The English teacher grins, twisting the knife in his hand so that the light bounces off its serrated teeth. “I may have messed with her a little, I admit. She wasn’t my type, but it was fun tricking her into thinking I wanted to be with her. I just wanted her to stay the hell away from Wren, but…” He shrugs, chuckling softly. “She was so fucking gullible. Not like you, eh, Elodie. No, you’re smart. Pointless putting it all together now, though. It’s far too late for that.”
47
WREN
“Whoa! Where’s your mask? I thought you were hot as hell as a wolf, Jacobi.”
It’s just my miserable luck that the first person I stumble across in the forest is Damiana. There are five reg flags tied around her wrist. Her slinky naughty nurse outfit looks like it’s going to fall off her any second. It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle she hasn’t fallen down a ravine and snapped her neck in the white stilettos she’s wearing. She rubs her hands over my chest, purring like a satisfied cat. “Never mind. I don’t care about the mask. Doesn’t matter. You still caught me. Now I’m yours for…” she purses her lips, “…however long you want me.”
“Stop, Dami.”
She lunges, trying to kiss me.
“Jesus, fucking stop! I’m looking for Elodie. Have you seen her?”
Her pleased look turns sour. “Fuck Elodie, Wren. How many times do you need to hear it? I a—”
I leave her in the dark, flying into the forest, my pulse racing so fast I’m shaking all over. She’s got to be around here somewhere. Turns out a two-mile radius is a really fucking massive area of land, though, and I’m not having much luck finding anyone useful in the dark. I check my cell phone, hoping and praying to god that there’ll be a message from Elodie, but I only have one bar of reception and—scratch that. I have zero bars of reception, and I doubt anyone else has any either.
What a fucking disaster.
This situation could not get any worse right now.
But then, typically, thirty seconds later they do.
I blaze right into Mercy. She’s sitting on a fallen tree trunk, smoking a cigarette like it’s totally normal for her to be out by herself in a forest in the middle of the fucking night. She’s dressed in a red and white cheerleader uniform, her hair in pigtails, makeup smeared all down her face. I think she’s supposed to be some sort of zombie. She doesn’t even look surprised when she looks and sees me.
“S’up, big brother. Enjoying your little game?” She blows twin jets of smoke down her nose.
“Elodie’s out here somewhere. I’ve gotta find her.”
“Huh. There’s a shocker.”
“I don’t have time to trade punches with you right now. Just tell me if you’ve seen her.”
Her eyebrow curves. She takes another drag from her cigarette. “Why would I tell you, even if I had? You’ve been quite terrible to me recently, Wren.”
I feel like fucking screaming. “You know perfectly well why I’m mad at you! This entire mess is your fucking fault!”
She twists to face me, anger in her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about? I did nothing wrong.”
“You meddled in my shit, Mercy, just like you always do. You told Fitz that I was seeing Mara when I wasn’t. You made out like we were serious and in a fucking relationship, when you knew he was out of his fucking mind. Mara went missing because you said that. You made me responsible for what happened to her!”
“I was just trying to help,” she hisses, flicking her smoke into the undergrowth. She gets up and stalks toward me, jabbing at my chest with her finger. “And we don’t know what happened to Mara, okay. She’s probably in Cabo, drinking trailer park margaritas and blowing frat boys on the beach. She was always the type to ‘Gone Girl’ you morons.”
“You tell yourself that if it helps ease your conscience, Merce. But Fitz would never have screwed with Mara if you hadn’t told him I was with her. She was your friend. Whether you like it or not, you threw her under the bus.”
For the first time in years, tears shine in Mercy’s eyes. She’s never shown one ounce of remorse for what she did. And, real though it looks, I’m not about to believe that this display of emotion is real now. Mercy’s always turned on the waterworks to get what she wants. “You’re right. She was my friend. And yeah, I said something that I shouldn’t. But I was trying to help you extricate yourself from a situation that you should never have been dumb enough to get yourself into in the first place. Christ, Wren, you don’t even like guys. What the fuck were you thinking?”
I shouldn’t have avoided her for this long. We should have hashed this out months ago, but I’ve been too angry to even look at her. I still feel that way. “Look, I can’t stand here arguing with you about my sexual orientation when Elodie’s in danger. Fitz is out here, and I think he’s looking for her. I have to find her first. If you’re not gonna help, then this is where I leave you.”
I charge off through the trees, heading to the north. My eyes are accustomed to the dark now. I’m surefooted and fast as I pick up the pace, my senses on high alert.
“Jesus, Wren! Wait!” Mercy calls behind me. I pause long enough to let her catch up. She’s panting and out of breath when she jumps down from a rock, arriving at my side. “Since you’ve never given me an opportunity to redeem myself, I s’pose I’ll help you find your silly little girlfriend.”
“This won’t make us even, Mercy. Not by a long shot.”
She pouts, rolling her eyes at me the way she’s always done since we were five. “Fine. Whatever, asshole. But you have to agree that it’s a start. Now lead the way. I knew there was a reason why I wore tennis shoes tonight.”
The minutes tick by. Then an hour. By one in the morning, I’ve reached the conclusion that it’s going to be fucking impossible to comb this entire area and find one girl. It’s insanity. Even with Mercy shrieking Elodie’s name at the top of her lungs, it’s unlikely that we’re just gonna stumble across her.
“She’s not out here, Wren,” Mercy says. “She’s tiny, and she can’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. What business would she have participating in one of your dumb hunts anyway? I bet you a hundred bucks she’s at that atrocious café, drinking milkshakes and gorging on fries with Carrie Mendoza.”
“You don’t know a thing about Elodie, so how about you keep your mouth shut, huh? I know she’s out here. I just do. And even if she isn’t, I’m still gonna crawl over every square inch of this forest to make damn sure. Fitz told me he was coming to ‘join in the fun.’ If there’s a chance that he might hurt her, then I’m gonna fucking stop him.”
“Wow. You really are smitten. I’ve never seen you care this much about anything,” she says softly. For once, it doesn’t sound like s
he’s mocking me. She sounds genuinely surprised.
“Yeah. Well. At some point, you’ve gotta care about something, Mercy, or else what’s the fucking point?”
“The point in what?”
I look back at her. “In even being alive.”
Her eyes round out, flicking past me, her focus shifting up ahead. She grabs my wrist, tugging me to one side, behind a tree. “Shhhh. I heard something.”
“It was probably a squirrel, Merce. Come on, let’s go.” She hisses and sputters, slapping my back, trying to get me to stop, but I press on regardless. She follows, swearing with every step she takes. Fifteen seconds later, I hear something, too: a low, breathless moan.
“What the fuck?”
Mercy points over to the right, and I discover the source of the noise. Presley Adams is naked, pinned up against a tree, her tits bouncing up and down as a guy wearing a wolf mask fucks the living shit out of her. Naturally, it’s Pax. Unfortunately, I’ve seen his bare ass enough times that it’s easily recognizable, even without the Calvin Klein underwear.
“Gross,” is all Mercy has to say on the matter. I know for a fact that she’d fuck Pax if given half a chance, so her comment must be aimed at Pres. I give them a wide berth, skirting around a huge boulder in order to avoid walking right past them.
We’re almost at the boundary of the search area, bordering the academy grounds, when we find the cave. Set back into the rock at the foot of a large buttress that juts skyward above the trees’ canopy, Mercy takes one look at the gaping black maw and shakes her head. “Uh uh. No way. Not happening. I’m not going in there.”
“Fine. Then don’t.” I stand at the mouth of the cave, peering into the bottomless black. I can’t see a fucking thing. “ELODIE!!!” My shout echoes back to me, repeating itself, growing quieter as it gets further and further away. Sounds like it goes back a long way. I wait, listening for a response that never comes.
“We’re almost at the academy,” Mercy says. “Why don’t we just go and take a look there. She could already have gone back there.”
I chew the inside of my cheek, considering it for a second. This niggling worry won’t stop gnawing at me, though. The very idea of giving up the search and going back to the school fills me with such inexplicable dread that it’s simply not an option. “Wait here, Merce. Holler if anyone comes.”
“For god’s sake, Wren. This is stupid! Let’s just go back!”
I take a deep breath and I step inside.
48
ELODIE
The thing about Krav Maga? The system was designed to train the Israeli Defense Forces how to disarm an attacker with a weapon. Specifically, a gun, or a knife. I could take Fitzpatrick’s bowie knife from him in three short moves, but I’m biding my time. He’s so sure that he has complete control over the situation that he’s talking, spilling all his secrets like a villain in a goddamn Bond movie, and I want to learn as much as I can before I break his wrist and run.
Carina walks ahead of me, her hands tied behind her back. I’m restrained, too—the thin twine the English teacher used to bind us bites, cutting into my skin—though I’m not particularly worried about that just yet. I’m more concerned about where he’s taking us. “Let’s pick up the pace, ladies. We’ll be here ‘til dawn otherwise.”
He sounds chipper. He hasn’t forgotten what I told him earlier, though. He doesn’t believe that Wren confessed his love to me, and now he’s trying to convince me that I’m wrong. “He was lying to you, y’know. He took your file from Dean Harcourt’s office. Stole your picture. He was planning on toying with you. Did you know that?”
“Yes, I knew that. He told me everything. I know all about his little obsession when we first met. Things changed, though. It became real. For both of us.” Maybe I should sound a little less bored. A fraction more scared? Don’t get me wrong; I’m absolutely shitting myself, but I’m also confident that I’ll be able to wrestle over control of the situation when the time comes. And I want to push the doc’s buttons a little. Nudge him over the other side of angry just far enough that he gets sloppy. Carina looks back at me, giving me a stern look that speaks volumes. What the fuck are you doing, girl? Don’t antagonize him. You’re gonna get us both killed!
“Eyes front, Carrie. Good girl. Wouldn’t want you tripping and breaking your neck, would we?” Fitz commands.
“He told me that I was the first person he’s ever loved. What we have is special,” I say in an airy tone. “I never thought a guy like Wren would go for a girl like me. But the way he looks at me sometimes…” I sigh dreamily. “We’re gonna live together when we go away to college. It’s gonna be amazing. We’ll—”
I go down hard. With my hands tied behind my back, I have no way of breaking the fall. The impact sends pain jangling through me from head to toe. Well, shit. Facedown in the dirt, I vaguely wonder if I’ve pushed a little too hard. Doctor Fitzpatrick looms over me, snarling in my ear. “Keep your slut mouth closed, Elodie. Unless you wanna wind up bleeding out in this dirt, right here and now.”
49
WREN
The moment I turn the first corner, I see a light up ahead. My hope soars. Maybe she didn’t hear me call out for some reason. Could be that Elodie’s just up ahead, killing time before she goes back to Wolf Hall. I stumble, tripping over unseen rocks that litter the narrow path, barely catching myself against the rough, sharp walls as I hurry onward.
“Elodie?” I should have fucking told her everything when I had the chance. It was so stupid of me to keep this from her. She needed to know the truth, so she could be prepared for what she was getting herself into. I was a coward, though. I was weak. It took so long to earn her trust. I was so convinced that we could make it to graduation without Fitz finding out about us. What a fool I was. “ELODIE!” The shout carries even further this time, bouncing around the inside of the cave.
Before I can suck down another breath and call for her again, I come out into an open, high-ceilinged cavern. The light I saw just now comes from a series of electric lamps, strung up along one side of the wall. Water runs down the roughhewn rock, gathering in filthy puddles on the ground. And there, right in the middle of the cavern, is a stone plinth, rising up out of the dirt.
Not a plinth.
An altar.
That’s what it seems to be, at least. I approach, my heart a clenched fist in my throat, and…Oh my god. A high-pitched buzzing sound floods my head. It’s Mara. She’s laid out on top of the altar, hands resting on top of her chest—nothing more than bone and matted, dull hair.
This is where she’s been.
All of this time…
The cops searched these woods. They never found her. They’ve been looking for her back in Florida where her parents live, plastering her face all over the sides of milk cartons and noticeboards, but she was here all along, quietly rotting away to dust.
“Holy…fuck.”
I reach out, my fingers hovering over the blackened skull—
“Oh my god!”
I pull my hand back, nearly jump out of my skin. Mercy stands in the opening of the cavern, staring at the body of the girl who used to be her friend. Shock distorts the planes of her face. Even in the dim lighting thrown off by the electric lamps, I can see how pale she is. “Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” I hiss.
She comes toward me on wobbly legs, reaching out, like the ground’s shifting underneath her and she’s fighting for balance. “I swear—” she whispers. “I swear I thought she was fine. I thought she’d just bailed. I guess she isn’t blowing frat boys in Cabo, after all.”
“No.” The word comes out clipped and hard. Mercy has a lot to answer for here. I won’t say it, because what would placing blame accomplish now? But Mara and I barely knew each other. We went out once, didn’t even make out, and I decided she wasn’t for me. Bastard that I was, she wasn’t innocent enough for my tastes. She was just as tainted and troubled as I was at the time, and I couldn’t even bother having a o
ne-night stand with her. She’d pursued me at first, but then given up the chase. There’d been no bad blood between us. And then Mercy stuck her oar in and wound up getting Mara killed. Fitz wouldn’t have touched her if my sister hadn’t said what she did.
Mercy stands over Mara’s corpse, the muscles in her throat working. I think she’s beginning to understand now. It’s finally hitting home. Tears course down her face as she surveys the bones from the skull, down over the ribcage, pelvis, femur, tibia and fibula. “I wouldn’t have been chatting with him in the street if I really believed he was capable of this,” she whispers. “I just…I thought it was a game. I thought it was funny, the way he wouldn’t leave you be. I never thought—”
I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my side. She’s been the cause of so much of my guilt over the past year, because I did know. I knew Fitz was this crazy. I feared he’d done something like this, but I had no way of proving it until now. Mercy’s hurting, though, and she’s still my fucking blood. She will have to deal with this for a long time to come, but for now I’ll comfort her, because that’s what brothers are supposed to do.
“We need to call the police,” she mumbles into my shirt.
“I know. We will. But first we need to find Elodie. I don’t want her to end up on this slab next to Mara. Let’s search the rest of the cave and—”
A loud CRACK! echoes down the passageway behind us—it sounds like a rock, skittering along the ground and hitting the wall. Mercy and I trade a stunned look. “Hide,” she hisses. But it’s too late. There is nowhere to hide. The cavern is where the cave ends, and it’s empty apart from the plinth.
