by Kieran Scott
Ted thrust his chest out. “You think I’m the bad guy? At least I offered them help when they needed it. You must have known they were off track this whole time and what did you do? You tortured them! Some friend.”
“What did you do to her, Ted?” Zach shoved Ted with both hands. Callie felt a bolt of fear. Ted stumbled back but caught himself, regaining his balance. “Yeah, I know your name. I know all about you. I’ve been watching, remember? I saw the way you’ve been looking at Lissa. I saw you two by the fire last night,” Zach went on angrily.
“You guys, don’t,” Callie said desperately. She still couldn’t grasp that Lissa was dead. They had to do something. They had to call the police.
“Oh really, Zach?” Ted replied, shoving Zach right back. “Is that why you killed her?”
“Dude. You are so gonna regret that,” Zach said. And then, he threw a punch that drilled Ted in the jaw so hard the impact echoed for miles.
Callie screamed. Zach and Ted ignored her. The two of them threw themselves at each other with such force she was surprised they didn’t crack open their skulls.
“Stop!” Callie shouted, tears streaming down her face.
They didn’t listen. They were nothing but a furious tangle of throws and blows and kicks and grunts. Callie turned in the direction where Penelope and Jeremy should have been. How were they not hearing this? How had they not heard her screams?
The green tangle of branches seemed to stretch in front of her like the endless, mind-boggling reflection in a funhouse mirror.
The world had gone still. Suspended. As if tensing itself for whatever might come next.
Callie swallowed hard, a painful lump lodged inside her throat.
She was standing here with her friend’s dead body while two guys tried to make each other the next victim. Was she really going to wait for one of them to succeed, then turn his venom on her? Gathering up all her courage, Callie dove into the woods, alone.
I made sure to be nearby when they found the body. I wanted to hear her scream, and she didn’t disappoint. It was so deep, so anguished, so primal. I can still hear it now, and whenever I think about it, I shiver. It was perfect. Everything I went through before, during, and after the act was made worth it by that one scream.
To this day, it remains so very, very worth it.
But I still had so much to do. Her fear had made her stronger—more alert, less naïve—but that didn’t bother me. I had gotten what I wanted, but it had only made me want more.
And I get what I want. No matter what sacrifices I have to make. I always get what I want.
Callie hurtled through the woods. Jeremy and Penelope had to be out here somewhere. They had to be. Unless Zach had found them first and snapped their necks before coming after her and Ted.
Oh, God, what if that was what had happened? If so, she’d just left Ted alone with a murderer.
Desperation surged inside Callie’s chest. She didn’t know what to believe, who to trust, where to go. A sharp branch nicked her cheek and immediately stung as the cut filled with salty tears.
Please let Jeremy and Pen be okay. Please, please let them be okay.
Callie heard a crack behind her and whirled around, throwing her arms up in front of her face to defend herself.
“Hey. It’s just me. You blew right past us.”
Jeremy. He was standing not ten feet away. Penelope sat on the ground next to him hugging her knees. Callie had never been so happy to see anyone or anything in her entire life.
“You’re okay!”
She staggered toward Jeremy, falling into his arms, forgetting entirely about the lie, their fights, their breakup. All that mattered was he was here. He was alive. Callie started to sob, tears soaking the front of his T-shirt as her body convulsed. Jeremy put his arms around her and held her close.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Penelope asked.
“Didn’t you hear me screaming?” Callie asked, pulling away and wiping her eyes.
“Yeah, we did, but Pen twisted her ankle and I couldn’t leave her,” Jeremy said. “We figured you just saw another snake or something. Why? What … ?”
He took a step back as he finally got a good look at Callie. She had no clue what he saw, but whatever it was drained the color from his face.
“What happened?” he whispered.
“We found Lissa,” Callie said, gasping for breath.
“You did?” Penelope cried, sounding relieved.
“She’s dead.” Callie’s voice cracked. “You guys, Lissa’s dead.”
“What?” Jeremy cried, bending at the waist like someone had punched him.
“No. You’re joking,” Penelope said tonelessly. “Where is she?” she asked, her voice growing frantic. “Lissa?!” she called out.
“I’m not joking,” Callie said, glancing around. “Ted thinks she was strangled. She had these marks around her neck and—”
Penelope looked up at Callie and something seemed to break inside her eyes. Suddenly they rolled back and she slumped sideways onto the ground.
“Penelope!” Callie shrieked. “Pen!”
“She fainted,” Jeremy said, crouching in the muddy earth next to her. He gently tugged Penelope away from the fallen tree trunk where she was propped and laid her flat on the ground. “She’ll be okay.”
“Jeremy, you’re not going to believe this, but Zach is here,” Callie said, grasping his arm.
“Zach?” Jeremy blurted, his brown eyes wide. “Since when? How?”
“He’s the one who’s been following us. He admitted it. Then he accused Ted of killing Lissa. When I left, the two of them were beating the pulp out of each other.”
“Well, if he’s been following us … watching us … maybe he saw what happened to Lissa last night,” Jeremy suggested.
“Or he killed her himself,” Callie replied.
Jeremy sat back, hard. He looked like he’d lost the will to exist. “Callie, what do we do? What do we do?”
Callie looked in the direction from which she’d come. “We have to try to call the police,” she said. “Pen has her phone on her. Check her pockets.”
Jeremy quickly patted his hands over the many pockets in Penelope’s cargo shorts. “It’s not here.”
“No way. She’s kept it on her this entire time,” Callie said. She sat down and reached for the flap pocket, shoving her hand inside. It was empty.
“Zach must have stolen it,” Callie said.
“Or Ted,” Jeremy added acerbically.
Callie heard someone tromping through the underbrush. She grabbed Jeremy’s arm again and turned. It was Zach, appearing from behind a stand of wide trees with a bloody lip and a swelling eye. The second he saw Penelope, he froze.
“Oh, God. She’s not—”
“She fainted,” Jeremy said, rising to his feet. “What are you doing here, man?”
“Dude, chill,” Zach said, touching a dirty bandanna to his lip. Standing next to Jeremy, he looked like a brick wall, his shoulders broad and his posture perfect. He looked indestructible. “I’m sorry about everything I did, but I did not kill Lissa.” His voice broke on her name.
“Where’s Ted?” Callie asked, her throat tight.
“That loser? He’s on his way back to your camp. Said he’d wait ten minutes if you guys still wanted his help, but after that, we’re on our own,” Zach told her. He spit a wad of blood and saliva near her feet. “But I don’t trust that dude as far as I could throw him. We gotta get out of here and away from him.”
“But we have to stay with Ted,” Callie said. “He’s the only one who knows where we’re going.”
“Or maybe he’s leading you guys right into some psycho trap,” Zach replied, his low voice fierce.
“Zach, you said you were watching Lissa and Ted last night by the fire. Ted said she went back into her tent around one o’clock. Were you watching then?” Callie asked, still wondering if Zach was the bad guy. She hoped his response would convince her one way or th
e other.
Zach nodded, looking shaky. “Yeah, I saw her go in and zip up the tent. Part of me wanted to step right up to Ted and confront him, but I didn’t. I just went back to my camp and fell asleep,” he explained. “That’s where I was when you started screaming just now. I didn’t see anything else, I swear.”
Jeremy hung his head and groaned. “I can’t take this anymore.”
“What do you think we should do, Higgins?” Zach asked. “You’re the smart one.”
Jeremy suddenly seemed to inflate. The person who had been mocking him all this time had been silenced, and replaced by someone who respected his opinion.
“Do you have your phone on you?” Jeremy asked hopefully.
Callie’s heart expanded. Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of that?
“Yeah, man, but it died yesterday,” Zach said.
The word died made Callie’s body tense as she pictured Lissa’s corpse. She heard herself let out a moan. “We’re never getting out of here,” she whispered.
“Yes. We are,” Jeremy said. “We’re going to wake up Pen, and then you guys are gonna take us to Lissa. Zach and I will carry her and we’ll catch up with Ted.”
“Dude,” Zach said, disagreeing.
“We have to stick with him for now and just hope he’s telling the truth,” Jeremy insisted.
“Are you sure?” Zach asked.
“Yeah. But I say we keep him on a very short leash.”
“You got that right.”
Zach bumped fists with Jeremy, and Callie swallowed down her nausea. How could Jeremy be so casual with him? After the way he’d stalked them and scared them? And she still wasn’t convinced that he hadn’t hurt Lissa. What was it her dad was always saying when they talked about the criminal law classes he taught? Motive was the most important factor in any murder. Find the motive, and you’ll find the killer.
As far as Callie could see, the only person in these woods with an actual motive to kill Lissa Barton was Zach Carle.
After an endless slog through the woods, Callie and Penelope finally emerged into the clearing with Zach and Jeremy close behind.
The two boys were carrying Lissa’s body between them.
Don’t look back, don’t look back, Callie told herself. If she didn’t look at Lissa, then maybe it wouldn’t be real.
Penelope’s ankle still hurt, so Callie supported half her weight and together they staggered to the nearest tree. Penelope had been holding back tears the whole way, gasping and gulping them down, but the second her butt hit the dirt, she began to sob. Ted, meanwhile, hovered nearby, watching them with a cold, detached eye. He had a cut on one cheek and the other was badly bruised. He’d wrapped his wrist with a torn-up T-shirt.
“What now?” Callie asked the guys without turning around, still determined not to look at Lissa’s limp form hanging between them. She bent down and kneaded Penelope’s shoulder, her throat so tight she was sure her own sobs would start up again.
“Could you get my blanket?” Jeremy asked.
Callie went to his tent and retrieved the large, plaid wool blanket he’d been sitting on near the fire for the past few nights, which she then smoothed out across the dirt. This time, she couldn’t help but watch as Jeremy and Zach gently laid Lissa down on top of it. One of Lissa’s arms fell, crooking at her side. She looked like she was sleeping. Tears filled Callie’s eyes, and she quickly closed them, turning away until she got hold of herself.
“How much farther do we have to go?” Jeremy asked Ted, his chest heaving after the effort.
“So we’re going to stick together?” Ted asked stonily. “You’ve decided I didn’t kill her?”
“We’re gonna let the cops decide on that,” Zach replied, his large hands on his hips. “But we realize you’re our only hope of getting out of these woods.”
“Great. So I’m innocent by convenience,” Ted snapped.
“Let’s just get back to civilization and then we can figure out what’s going on,” Callie put in, shocked she was able to keep her voice steady.
Ted took a deep breath. “Fine. We still have a few more miles to cover. I don’t know how we’re going to carry her the whole way.”
“We can’t just leave her here,” Penelope blurted, wiping her eyes.
“No. We can’t,” Zach agreed, his voice thick.
“No one said we would.” Ted grabbed his canteen and took a swig of water. “We just need a better plan.”
“We have to build a stretcher,” Jeremy said. “Something lightweight but strong enough to hold her.” He glanced around at Callie and Penelope, his eyes oddly bright. “Either of you know how much she weighs?”
“One twenty,” Penelope replied, sniffling.
“Okay, that’s not too bad.”
“I can’t believe we’re even talking about this,” Callie said, holding her hands over her eyes. “What’re we going to tell her parents?”
“We can figure it out later,” Zach said, all business. It was so strange seeing him this way, without the easy smile, the jovial one-liners. “Right now we’ve got work to do. Where do we start, Higgins?”
Jeremy turned in a slow circle, surveying their campsite with narrowed eyes. He was so bright-eyed. So focused. It made something squirm inside Callie’s stomach.
“What are you thinking, Jeremy?” Ted asked, stepping up next to him and offering him the canteen.
It was the first time since they’d met that Ted had called him by his name. Jeremy took a swig of water, then handed it back. Callie suddenly understood why her ex-boyfriend seemed so animated. To him, this was a physics problem. Something he could handle. Something he could solve. He was clinging to it because it gave him a distraction—a way to make sense of the situation. And the other guys were recognizing him as their leader.
“We can use my tent,” Jeremy said. “The vinyl can supposedly withstand seventy-five-mile-an-hour winds. If we tear it up and double or triple fold it, it should hold.”
It should hold. The weight of Lissa’s corpse on the material. Callie pressed her hands to her stomach and glanced at Penelope, who looked ill.
“All right. We have a game plan,” Zach said, clapping his meaty hands together like he was in a football huddle. Like he was the player and Jeremy was the coach. “Let’s do this.”
Keeping her eyes on the ground, Callie slowly crossed the clearing while the three guys got to work breaking down Jeremy’s tent. Jensen’s Revenge still lay near the fire pit where Lissa had left it last night after using it as a cutting board. There were little flecks of chocolate scattered over the gushing quotes from reviews of the first two books.
Lissa had touched that book. Just last night. A few hours ago, really. She’d been alive and vibrant and here. Now she was gone. Forever.
It took all Callie’s self-control not to turn around and stare at Lissa’s body.
“You okay?” Callie asked Penelope as she sat next to her.
Their eyes met and Callie realized what a stupid question it was. She picked at a patch of dried mud on her leg, noticing the stubble that stuck up from underneath it. She couldn’t believe that just a few days ago she’d been obsessing about how she looked to Jeremy. It hadn’t even crossed her mind to brush her hair in the last twenty-four hours.
“I mean your ankle. How is it?”
“Not good,” Penelope replied. She pulled her knee up and rested her chin on it, staring across at where Lissa lay. “I’ve never seen a dead body before. Have you?”
“Just my mom’s aunt Rosa at her wake,” Callie said, studying the grass. “But it was a long time ago and she was really old and I didn’t know her. This is … it’s just …”
Her throat welled so swiftly she couldn’t continue.
“I keep waiting for her to wake up,” Penelope said, her voice quiet. “Sit up and tell us it was just a prank and laugh. God, I’d pretty much kill to hear her laugh.”
“I know what you mean,” Callie said. She turned her face to the side and
lowered her voice. “Do you think it was Zach?”
“Zach? Please. You know him. He’s like Mr. Popular and the class clown rolled into one giant man-boy,” Penelope said. “He could never hurt anyone. Not outside the football field.”
“Then what? There’s someone else out here? Some random psychopath?” Callie asked, her heart pounding. Penelope’s face tightened, like she was trying to communicate something silently. Her eyes flicked toward the spot where Ted was standing, not five feet away. Callie licked her dry lips with her dry tongue. “You think it was … ?”
She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Yes, she’d had the same thought. Many times. But Ted …
“I was alone with him out there. I could hardly even see straight after we found Lissa,” Callie whispered as Ted tore the tent fabric with his knife. “If he’s the killer, wouldn’t he have attacked me then, instead of calming me down and picking a fight with Zach? And then he waited for us here when he could have taken off.”
“Unless …” Penelope bit her lip and fiddled with her bracelets. “Unless he’s toying with us. Lulling us into a false sense of security. I bet this cabin of his doesn’t even exist.”
“Pen …”
“It’s classic psychopath behavior,” Penelope countered. “He makes us trust him, makes us rely on him, so that when he turns on us, it’s this big, sick surprise.”
“How do you know anything about classic psychopath behavior?” Callie asked.
“Don’t you ever watch TV?” Penelope turned away, like she was annoyed at Callie’s lack of crime procedural knowledge.
Questions itched at the tip of Callie’s tongue, but she didn’t dare ask them, fearing the answers would make her feel more terrified than she already did. Instead, she focused back on the guys.
The three of them were working together quickly, mostly silently, fashioning a stretcher out of two long branches, the poles from Jeremy’s now destroyed tent, and the torn-up fabric. Every now and then Jeremy would bark an order at Ted, or Zach would make a suggestion, and the three of them would make the adjustments. It was surreal to watch—especially Jeremy and Ted. It was as if they were two guys who’d worked together their entire lives instead of a pair of strangers who had mostly rankled each other for the last three days.
