What Waits in the Woods

by Kieran Scott

  What if she catches up with him? What if she found the gun? Or grabbed another weapon from the house? What if she—

  Thunder cracked overhead.

  Go.

  Callie finally ran.

  Her breath was loud and broken in her ears, her lungs burning as she sprinted for the house. She caught her foot on the lip of a step on her way up the porch and went sprawling, scraping her knee on the wood and coming to rest right next to Lissa’s stretcher.

  I’m so sorry, Lissa, Callie thought, jumping up again and ignoring the dart of pain in her kneecap.

  If only someone had told them about Penelope. If only they’d known.

  Callie ran inside and over to the kitchen, avoiding Ted’s and Zach’s bodies. She searched the cabinets and found a heavy silver pot, but it had two handles and wasn’t good for swinging. Her eyes fell on the knife set atop the butcher block. She yanked out the knife with the biggest handle, and it let out a kling as the blade glinted in the overhead light.

  Her stomach turned. She couldn’t drive a knife into someone. Not even to save her own life. The very thought made her feel faint.

  From the corner of her eye, Callie saw a flash of white. Jeremy’s shirt. He raced past the window, headed for the front of the house. Were three minutes up already?

  Callie’s pulse pounded in her ears. If she was going to save Jeremy, if she was going to save herself, she had to find something and she had to do it now. Her eyes fell on her backpack, which she’d tossed on the floor near the island. Still clutching the knife in one hand, she ripped the zipper open and yanked out her copy of Jensen’s Revenge.

  This thing weighs, like, ten pounds, she heard Lissa chide in her head.

  Shaking from head to toe, Callie ran back to the front door. She dropped the knife on the bench where she’d removed her shoes earlier, and pressed her back against the wall next to the entry. Her sweaty hands clutched the book for dear life.

  Please just let this work, Callie thought. Let this work and I swear I’ll never complain about anything again. Not my frizzy hair, not school, not my parents, not anything.

  She heard footfalls pound on the stairs and across the porch. The door ripped open and Jeremy stumbled inside. He kept running straight across the room. Callie hoisted the book above her head. She held her breath. Slowly, Penelope walked inside. She didn’t glance left or right. Her gaze was focused on Jeremy. Swinging casually at her side was a heavy wooden baseball bat. Callie’s gaze darted to the crate full of sports equipment. Sure enough, the bat was gone.

  She felt so stupid. She hadn’t even thought to look there for a potential weapon.

  Then a sound came from the kitchen. Someone was moaning.

  Jeremy’s jaw dropped. Penelope’s eyes widened.

  “It’s Zach!” Jeremy gasped, looking over his shoulder. “He’s still alive!”

  Callie felt shocked, and nearly sick with relief. Somehow Zach had survived. Could she and Jeremy?

  Penelope clenched her teeth. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Carefully, Callie stepped back behind a puffy jacket that hung from a rack near the door. She needed a second. Just a second to catch her breath. Pen hesitated, and Callie’s throat prickled with terror. Her movement had caught Penelope’s eye, or maybe she’d heard a board creak. But Pen didn’t turn around. Her focus was on Jeremy as he whipped his shirt off and knelt next to Zach, who was coughing and sputtering.

  “Jeremy! What do you think you’re doing?” Penelope demanded.

  Jeremy held the shirt to Zach’s chest while Zach whimpered, and Jeremy took the phone from Zach with his other hand.

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m calling the cops!”

  “Come on, Jer. You’re smarter than that,” Penelope said, giving the bat one twirl and starting across the room. “Even if you get through to 911 now, it’s going to take them twenty minutes at least to get here. By then it’ll be too late. For you and your precious girlfriend.”

  Something inside Callie snapped. She wasn’t going to hide and cower anymore. With an adrenaline-fueled cry, she stepped up behind Penelope and brought the book down as hard as she could on the base of her skull.

  Penelope stopped, wavered a moment, then fell. The bat clattered to the floor and rolled, while the side of Penelope’s head smacked against the coffee table and she bent sideways, crumbling awkwardly. Her arms went limp.

  “Is she out?” Callie cried. “Did I do it?”

  Jeremy blinked, looking stunned. “You did it.”

  “How’s that for my big stupid book?” Callie spit at Penelope’s back.

  Then she sank to her knees, hugging the book to her chest as tightly as she could. She felt like she couldn’t let go. Like if she did, she’d start shaking and never stop.

  “It’s over?” Callie heard herself say, her voice a nearly unrecognizable wail. “It’s over? It’s really over?”

  Jeremy didn’t answer. He helped Zach prop himself up against the door, where Zach held Jeremy’s blood-soaked shirt to his upper chest, heaving for air. Then Jeremy unhooked the bungee cords that held his sleeping bag to his backpack and brought them over. Suddenly Callie remembered what Penelope had said on the trail about Ted’s cords being missing. She’d probably used them on Lissa, and probably tossed her cell phone deep into the woods, trying to make Callie suspect him. Then she’d spouted all that garbage during their hike just to drive the point home. Callie felt so stupid. So gullible. She felt like she would never trust anyone again. A sob broke from her throat and suddenly, she couldn’t stop crying.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Jeremy finished binding Penelope’s hands and feet, and crouched in front of Callie. “It’s over. Everything’s okay.”

  And then they were wrapped in each other’s arms. He held her close as they both sobbed. Jeremy could say what he wanted, but nothing was ever going to be okay ever again. Lissa was dead. Ted was dead. Zach, from the look of his wound, might not make it. And Penelope, the girl she’d come to think of as her best friend, was responsible for all of it.

  How was Callie ever going to live with that? How was she ever going to feel safe again?

  “Shh,” Jeremy said. “It’s over. It’s over.”

  Slowly, Callie and Jeremy stood and made their way over to Zach. They sat down beside him, Callie keeping her hand on Zach’s arm and her ear pressed against Jeremy’s heart, until she heard the faint whoop of a police siren in the distance.

  Half an hour later, Callie and Jeremy sat across from each other in the back of an ambulance, the rain battering the roof like ceaseless gunfire. Lissa’s body was loaded into another ambulance, and the police had been forced to call for two more once they’d surveyed the scene. EMTs were tending to Zach while Ted still lay inside the house, his body covered by a black tarp.

  Callie shuddered inside her warm cotton blanket. Penelope was now in handcuffs on the porch with a crowd of officers around her, but still, Callie didn’t feel entirely safe. Every time she let her brain wander, she saw Lissa’s dead eyes or Ted’s oozing wound—heard Zach’s plea for his life—and the dread and nausea would crash over her, fresh and violent.

  At least Pen’s aim hadn’t been true when it came to Zach. According to the EMTs, she’d just missed his right lung. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder.

  “Cal? Are you okay?” Jeremy asked softly.

  The cop who’d been interviewing them, Officer Short, shot her a concerned look. He was crouched in the tiny space between their two benches.

  Callie simply shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Someone had taped up her feet, which were now wearing a pair of white fluffy socks. She had no idea where they had come from.

  “We’ve talked to the owners of the house,” Officer Short told them, looking down at his notepad. “Ted Miller was a friend of their son’s at Syracuse, but they had no idea he was using their home.”

  Callie met Jeremy’s eyes. So they’d been half right. There was a cabin, clearly, but it
wasn’t Ted’s after all. Not that Ted had deserved to die for that.

  The officer stood up and ran his hand over his military-cut blond hair. “The girl … Penelope … her parents corroborated your story. They had some reservations about her coming on this trip but thought she’d be okay for the five days, as long as she had her medication. I guess that’s a decision they’ll be regretting for a long time to come.”

  “Is Pen gonna be okay?” Callie asked.

  The officer seemed surprised she’d posed that question. “I hope so.”

  Jeremy leaned his head back against the wall. His eyes were heavy with sorrow and exhaustion. Callie couldn’t help thinking that if they’d never come on this trip, then everything would be fine. Lissa and Ted would be alive. Zach would be playing Xbox in his basement. Penelope would be on her medication and well. But now everything had changed. For all of them.

  “I’m very sorry about your loss,” the officer went on. “Your parents are on their way. Is there anything else I can do for you right now?”

  Jeremy stared at some random point above Callie’s head.

  Callie sighed. “I don’t think so. Thank you.”

  Once the officer was gone, Callie and Jeremy were completely alone in the little cave of the ambulance. Callie’s heart felt tight, crammed full of sorrow over what had happened, and hope for her and Jeremy. She felt sympathy for Zach and the pain he was enduring, dread for Lissa’s and Ted’s parents, relief that she would see her own mom and dad soon, hatred for Penelope, but also pity. She clutched the blanket close to her torso and wished Jeremy would look at her. They had said “I love you” out there. But did it mean anything? Was it just something you said under extreme circumstances when you thought you were about to die? Technically, they were still broken up. Could they ever go back? Or was their relationship another casualty of this “vacation”?

  And how could she even be thinking about this right now, when so much death surrounded her?

  “Callie?”

  The sound of a familiar voice made Callie sit up straight. “Mom?”

  She turned just as her mother and father appeared at the back door of the ambulance. Her mother’s face went slack with relief at the sight of her.

  “Mom!”

  Tears leaked down Callie’s face as her mother climbed into the ambulance and wrapped Callie up in her arms. Jeremy got up from his seat and stepped out into the rain to give Callie’s father room to get in. Callie pressed her face into her mother’s shoulder and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

  “Are you okay?” her mother asked when Callie finally lifted her head.

  Callie’s throat was so tight she couldn’t speak. Her mother was so beautiful. Her black hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail and her skin was even tanner than usual. Her face was lined with worry. But for the first time in days, Callie felt safe. She felt like she might actually survive this.

  “Callie, answer me! Are you all right?”

  Finally, Callie managed to nod. She reached past her mom’s shoulder and grabbed her dad’s hand. He held on to her tightly, tears shimmering in his eyes.

  Behind him, she saw Jeremy hovering, still in his blanket, letting himself get soaked by the rain, and she smiled gratefully at him. Jeremy managed the slightest of smiles in return.

  Then, Penelope appeared. She was being led past Jeremy, head bowed, her hands cuffed behind her, one cop on either side. Callie’s insides froze as Penelope looked up and met her eye. There was nothing there other than a blank, evil stare. Then, just before she passed out of view, Penelope suddenly laughed. She kept laughing, cackling really, until Callie heard the pop of a car door closing. Then there was nothing but the rain.

  Callie had just changed out of her T-shirt and jeans and into her brand-new tae kwon do dobok when the doorbell rang. She flinched. Ever since the woods, sudden noises sent her heart racing. She looked herself up and down in the full-length mirror on her closet door and shook her head. How was she supposed to handle martial arts classes if she couldn’t handle a doorbell?

  But she was going to do it. She had to do it. Helplessness was not something she ever wanted to feel again. From here on out, Callie was going to take care of herself.

  A light rap sounded on her door and it pushed open. Instinctively, Callie closed her journal, which had been open on her desk to the story she was now working on every day. A story about a girl and a boy who break up in the woods, and the two friends who manage to bring them together again. No blood, no death. Just relationship conflicts and a happy ending. She was going to finish this one. She knew it. She was almost there.

  Jeremy stood in the hallway with a fresh new haircut—no more bangs in front of his eyes—wearing crisp-looking jeans and a light blue polo shirt. Her heart caught at the sight of him. They hadn’t spoken since that awful night. It had been five days.

  “Hey,” he said, giving her a tentative smile. “That’s a good look for you.”

  She snorted a laugh and looked down at what were basically blindingly white pajamas. She hadn’t put the belt on yet because she had no clue how to tie it.

  “Thanks.” She blushed, feeling awkward with him hovering out there, even though he’d been to her house a dozen times. “Your hair looks nice like that.”

  He touched it self-consciously. “Yeah. Mom made me get it cut for school tomorrow.” He cleared his throat and looked around. “Hey! You finished painting your room. I like the color.”

  The walls of Callie’s space were now a bright, happy aqua, like the color of the ocean off the coast of Brazil. Every morning when she woke up, she saw the walls and smiled. Until the memories of the camping trip came crashing back.

  “Thanks.”

  “So …” Jeremy shoved his hands into his pockets. “I just got back from visiting Zach. He’s doing pretty well. But football’s not happening this year.”

  Callie nodded. “I heard. I’m glad he’s okay, though. And my mom says Penelope’s getting the help she needs.”

  Jeremy nodded, too, his eyes momentarily unfocused. “Did you go to Lissa’s funeral?”

  Callie sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed. “No. I wanted to, but her parents decided to keep it small. Just family. My mom was worried about me dealing with all the questions, anyway. She thought it would be better for me if I stayed home.”

  Over the last week Callie had gotten about a million texts and emails asking how she was and expressing sympathy. Some of them were from people she didn’t know and had never spoken to. Callie was sure that some of the sentiments were genuine, but she knew that a lot of the people just wanted to hear the story. There were probably a ton of rumors and untruths flying around, and it would be up to her and Jeremy to set the record straight.

  Unfortunately, she had no desire to talk about it. Ever. In fact, for the past couple of nights she found herself identifying with that boy who had survived the Skinner. She now understood why it had taken him a year to find his voice.

  “Mine too,” Jeremy said. “But we’re going to have to deal with it anyway, right? At school?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “That’s gonna be a nightmare.”

  Jeremy leaned against the doorway and looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Well, it might be better if we … face them together?”

  Callie’s heart flip-flopped. A smile twitched her lips. “You think?”

  “Yeah, I mean … you can only say ‘no comment’ so many times before your voice gets hoarse. And when that happens, I could take over.”

  Jeremy took a tentative step into the room. Callie stood up.

  “You’d do that for me?” she said lightly.

  Jeremy looked into her eyes. “I’d do anything for you.”

  In a rush, Callie realized she felt exactly the same way. She would do anything for him, too. Hadn’t they already proven that to each other in that moment behind the shed? The moment they’d split up hoping to save each other’s skins?

  Callie collapsed into Jeremy, wrapping h
er arms around his back and pressing her cheek to his chest. His skin was warm and he smelled so clean. For days she’d been obsessing about what they’d been through, the fact that Lissa and Ted were gone, that Penelope was locked up in some psychiatric ward somewhere. But now, suddenly, the reality of where they were crashed over her.

  They had survived, she and Jeremy. They were going to be okay.

  “Callie Valasquez, will you … be my girlfriend again?” Jeremy asked, running his hand over her hair.

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Yes,” she said.

  His smile was huge. He leaned down and kissed her, lightly, on the lips.

  “But you have to promise me one thing,” she told him.

  He tucked her hair behind her ear and touched the side of her face with his fingers. “Anything.”

  “No more outdoors,” she said. “From here on out, we go to movies, we go bowling, we go to the mall … but I don’t want to step foot in the woods. Not ever again.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Jeremy said.

  And then he kissed her again, and for the first time in days, for the briefest of moments, there wasn’t a thought in Callie’s head of blood and death, of fear and paranoia, of trees and rain and screams and despair. For that brief moment, there was hope.

  I was wrong about Jeremy. He hasn’t even been here to visit me once. Six months I’ve been locked up and not so much as a letter or a phone call. For a long time I’d get my hopes up whenever I saw my mother come through the security door, but then she’d give me that sad-eyed look, and I’d know. He wasn’t with her. He hadn’t sent a thing. He even missed my birthday.

  I don’t get it. I mean, I let him live. He was the only one I let live. Well, except for Callie, but that was not by choice. If it wasn’t for that stupid, monstrous book, I would have had her. And I would have taken such pleasure in bashing in her skull over and over and over again with that bat. Sometimes, imagining the splattering blood and the shattered bone is the only way I can get to sleep at night.