by Laura Wolfe
“Yeah. Me too. I was so exhausted.”
“I guess the tow truck didn’t show up.” I pulled on a sweatshirt over my T-shirt and pajama bottoms.
Charlotte swung her feet off the edge of the bed, her mouth turning down in the corners. “I don’t get what’s taking so long.”
“Maybe the roadside assistance place isn’t really open twenty-four hours. I bet they’ll show up this morning.” Even as I said the words, panic tunneled through me.
“Yeah,” Charlotte said, her voice flat.
Water splashed in the sink down the hall. I shoved my feet into my flip-flops and wandered into the hallway, finding the bathroom door ajar. Jenna turned off the faucet, then patted her face with a towel. She limped toward us, raising her hand in a half-hearted wave. Purplish bags were visible beneath her sunken eyes. “I guess we didn’t get rescued last night.”
I sighed. “That’s what we just realized. Did you get any sleep?”
“It wasn’t the greatest. I’m so tired.” Jenna tipped her head toward the stairway. “Should we let Kaitlyn sleep or go make some horrible coffee?”
“Coffee.”
Charlotte nodded. “Yeah. Coffee.”
Jenna led the way downstairs, favoring the leg without the ankle bandage. She wore running shorts and a turquoise athletic top. Jenna stopped short and I bumped into her.
“Sorry,” I said, following her gaze toward the couch, which lay empty. Only a dingy blanket and a pillow rested on top of the cushions. I could see partway into the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs, but there was no rustling of grocery bags or opening and closing of cupboards like I’d heard the previous mornings.
“Kaitlyn?”
There was no reply.
“Where is she?” Jenna asked.
My eyes flickered toward the window, my chest lightening with hope. “She might be outside. Maybe the tow truck is finally here.”
We followed Jenna as she double-timed it down the steps, through the kitchen, and onto the deck. But my shoulders sank as I stepped into the chilly morning air. The red minivan remained in the same spot on the dirt driveway, melting into its deflated front tires. There was no tow truck.
“Oh man.” Charlotte dropped her head into her hands and let out a shriek. “That’s what I get for getting my hopes up.”
Jenna looked at her fingernail, then down the dirt driveway. “Do you think she went with them?”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Marlene and Ed?”
“No. The roadside assistance people. Maybe they drove a car or a van instead of a tow truck. Kaitlyn probably didn’t want to wake us up. Maybe she went with them so she could call the police and rescue us.”
I shifted my weight to my other foot. “I don’t think she’d leave without telling us.”
“Yeah,” Jenna said, her hands dropping to her sides.
“I’ll check the house again. Maybe she’s in the downstairs bathroom.” Charlotte turned toward the door.
Fear gripped my throat and I couldn’t respond. My spine went rigid as I scanned the trees for any sign of Kaitlyn’s auburn hair and slender frame. I listened for any sound of her sing-song voice. I tried to remember what she’d been wearing when she went to bed but couldn’t. I cupped my hands to my mouth and yelled over the railing. “Kaitlyn!”
Only birds chirped in response.
“She wouldn’t have walked over to Travis’s house on her own, would she?” Jenna bit her lip. Creases of worry formed across her forehead as she gazed down the narrow dirt road.
“No. Kaitlyn wouldn’t be that stupid. With everything that’s happened, she wouldn’t go anywhere without telling us first. Especially to Travis’s house.”
Jenna rubbed her forehead. Her usually vibrant skin was dry and leathery, her hair uncombed and stringy. I touched my face, realizing I probably looked even worse. I paced across the deck, hoping Charlotte would pop her head through the door and tell us Kaitlyn had been inside the house all along. Instead, the door creaked open and Charlotte edged her way into the gap, alone. “Kaitlyn’s not in here.” Charlotte waited, but we didn’t respond.
A nagging in my gut told me something wasn’t right. My eyes searched through the trees and drifted over the smooth water. The lake had transformed again—a deep-blue mirror reflecting in the morning sun. My vision snagged on an imperfection in the glassy surface. I leaned against the railing, letting the length of wood press into my ribs. A log floated near the shore, but the trees obscured my view. I stepped to the side, noting a curved object rising from the flat surface. It wasn’t a log. There was something animal-like about the mass. I wondered if Ed and Marlene were so deranged that they would shoot a deer and throw it into the lake just to scare us. I stretched my neck to the side, getting a clear view around a tree. An auburn tendril floated on the water like seaweed, something pale and slender bobbing next to it. My heart pounded, and my blood rushed through my veins, threatening to burst through the vessels.
“Oh no.” My teeth clicked as my mind caught up to my internal alarm.
Jenna looked at me, then followed my line of vision toward the lake. She yelped, throwing her hands over her mouth.
I jumped off the deck and stumbled down the hill toward the rocky beach, feeling like I was going to throw up. The metal door slammed shut from the kitchen, and footsteps rushed behind me. I didn’t turn back. My legs spun faster, even as my limbs went numb and black spots danced before my eyes.
“Please, no! Please, no!” As I neared the water’s edge, my feet stepped onto rocks and plunged into the frigid liquid. My stomach turned inside out. It was Kaitlyn. Her hair fanned out across the bobbing waves. Her willowy body floated face down on the surface. A sob heaved from my chest, echoing across the lake. “Who did this?” I screamed.
Jenna and Charlotte were next to me, up to their knees in the water. They were sobbing and screaming, too. My ears throbbed as my blood pulsed inside my head.
We splashed through the water toward her. I grabbed Kaitlyn’s shoulders and with the help of Jenna and Charlotte, we flipped her over. I stumbled backward at the sight of Kaitlyn’s face. Her mouth was open as if she’d been screaming underwater or struggling for breath. Her eyeballs bulged, staring upward at nothing.
“Oh, God.” Jenna turned away at the gruesome sight.
Charlotte whimpered and hid her face in the crook of her elbow, shoulders shaking.
“Let’s drag her to shore and do CPR.” I hooked my hands under Kaitlyn’s armpits and pulled, splashing backward through the water. My foot hit a rock and I fell back with a splash. I struggled to my feet and kept tugging.
Jenna covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. “We’re too late.”
Charlotte lowered her eyelashes and nodded. “Jenna’s right. It won’t do any good.”
I ignored them. I hadn’t even had time to process Sam’s death yet. I refused to believe another of my friends was dead. I pulled her onto the rugged shore, desperate for a miracle. A purplish line encircled her neck, similar to the mark we’d found on Sam’s neck. I felt for a pulse, but only cold skin met my fingertips. My body doubled over, my head falling onto Kaitlyn’s silent chest. Charlotte’s hand pressed against my back as I cried.
Jenna kicked a stone, her facing twisting in disgust. She jutted out her chin and stared up the hill and into the woods. “Those fucking bastards. Marlene and Ed never called for help. They did this!”
Charlotte chewed on her lip, making no effort to stop the tears streaming down her face. “They lied to me. They must have figured out we killed Travis. I’m so stupid.”
I fell back on my butt, jagged rocks poking through my thin pajama bottoms. “Marlene must have seen the blood on the floor. She knew we made that mark on the ceiling.”
Jenna stared across the lake. “Wouldn’t they call the police if they suspected us?”
“Travis must have told them what he did to Sam,” Charlotte said, her face crumpling.
“I bet they helped him k
ill her. Kaitlyn has the same mark on her neck.” I spat the words from my mouth.
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “They probably assumed we got back at Travis after he murdered our friend. Of course, Ed and Marlene wouldn’t call the police because it would expose their hate crime.”
“Oh my God. You’re right,” Jenna said. “They’re out for revenge.”
I released my grip on Kaitlyn’s limp hand, trying not to think about her girls and her husband and her parents. Kaitlyn was one of the good ones. She’d lived a charmed life in her upscale suburb, more than comfortable in her luxury home inside her gated community. Life had come easily for her. Kaitlyn had never wanted for anything—not looks, or friends, or money, or a devoted husband, or loving children. An outsider might have been jealous, but I knew her better than that. She’d never taken her good fortune for granted. She’d known how lucky she was. Many women in her position hid behind their privilege, safeguarding their lifestyle at the expense of others. Not Kaitlyn. She had made it her life’s mission not to forget her obligation to her community. She went out of her way to serve others because she could and because it was the right thing to do. She’d gladly skipped dinners at the country club in favor of distributing food at the soup kitchen or accompanying a recent immigrant to the Secretary of State to fill out his paperwork or organizing the fundraisers for her kids’ schools. She had witnessed people in the most desperate of situations, yet she always offered them hope. She was one in a million, and now she was dead.
“Why Kaitlyn?” I asked, my voice breaking.
Jenna huffed. “Probably because she was sleeping on the couch. She was the first one they saw.”
“Or maybe they knew about her charity work helping immigrants,” Charlotte said. “That would piss them off.”
I placed my palm on the sand, steadying myself. “How would Marlene and Ed know about Kaitlyn’s charity work?”
“I don’t know. We emailed Travis our names. He could have googled us before we got here.”
“Oh no.” Jenna’s eyes flickered. “What if they know about my Jewish heritage?”
“You guys. Stop!” I leaned forward, clutching my head. “Those two idiots aren’t doing any research on us. I bet they barely know how to read. They’re probably picking off whoever is the easiest target.”
Jenna glanced at her ankle before her eyes darted toward the woods again. “Great. So I’m next, either way.”
“No,” I said, raising myself off the sand. “We’re not going to let that happen. We need to get out of here before anyone else dies.”
Charlotte pushed a damp clump of hair away from her face, then straightened her shoulders. “Let’s hike out along the road. It’s over fifteen miles to the town, but only twelve or so to the main road. We’ll probably spot a car before then.”
Jenna’s shoulders slumped. “There’s no way I can go that far on my ankle. You guys can leave without me.” She motioned toward the cabin. “I’ll hide in a closet or something.”
I stepped toward her. “No. We shouldn’t split up. And no one’s staying in this murder cabin alone.”
Jenna pointed to my foot. “You’re bleeding.”
I slid my foot from my flip-flop, noticing a line of blood stretching from my big toe to my ankle. Something had sliced my skin and I hadn’t even noticed. I had the sensation that someone else was occupying my body.
Jenna frowned. “Did that just happen?”
“I guess.” I looked away, suddenly noticing the line of pain stinging across the top of my foot. My cut only needed a Band-Aid or two. It was nothing compared to what had happened to Kaitlyn and Sam.
Jenna stared at the fresh cut. “You might have to hike out on your own, Charlotte.”
Charlotte’s dark eyes hardened above her round cheeks. “I can do it. You guys can stay here together with Travis’s rifle. I’ll send help as soon as I can.”
“What if Marlene and Ed are hiding out there, waiting for you?” I asked. “I mean, isn’t it obvious we would walk along the road to get help?”
Charlotte scowled and rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. We’re running out of options, especially now that both of you are injured. I’m not going to sit around and watch us all get killed.”
I blinked, considering Charlotte’s plan. I looked at Jenna’s hunched shoulders and then toward the stinging gash on my foot. It was risky to separate, but the payoff would be worth it. All Charlotte had to do was find a car that was willing to stop or make it within range of a cell-phone tower. “Okay. Charlotte’s idea might be our best bet.” My eyes drifted back to the ground, toward Kaitlyn. For a split second, I’d forgotten what had happened to her. My stomach convulsed at the sight of her bluish skin, but I closed my eyes and tightened my jaw. “We need to carry Kaitlyn up to the cabin.”
“Should we put her in the minivan with Sam?” Charlotte asked.
I pressed my lips together, not knowing the answer.
Charlotte and I heaved Kaitlyn’s waterlogged body inch by inch up the hill. Jenna hovered on the beach, keeping a lookout for Ed and Marlene. She wiped tears from her cheeks and muttered profanities under her breath. Without a hand up, Jenna couldn’t make it up the hill on her weak ankle. After we laid Kaitlyn’s body on a flat stretch of gravel near the minivan, I returned for Jenna, extending my hand and letting her lean against me as we climbed the incline. We retrieved the charcoal-colored blanket Kaitlyn had used the night before from the couch and wrapped it carefully around her. The covering was a few inches too short. The sight of Kaitlyn’s manicured toes protruding from one end caused my breath to catch in my throat. Jenna gasped, and Charlotte covered her mouth with her hand.
Don’t think about it, I told myself, over and over again. Don’t process the enormity of this loss until we are safe. Assuming the role of a therapist offered me a speck of comfort. I needed to bury my agony in a temporary grave. I had to keep my wits so that I could guide my friends through this crisis and back to safety. My schooling had trained me to remain calm and focus.
“Let’s get Kaitlyn into the van.” I put my hand on Jenna’s shoulder, then moved to Charlotte. “Everyone, take a breath. We’re going to get through this, but we need to stay calm and keep moving.”
Charlotte blinked and nodded. Jenna inhaled a loud breath, followed by an exhale. I opened the back of the minivan, where Sam’s body already lay in a neat roll. We gently slid her further inside to make room. Operating with the mindless efficiency of three robots, we hoisted the gray bundle next to the other one. Charlotte closed the door and locked the van. I thought I might vomit. We faced each other, forming a circle.
Charlotte rubbed her hands together. “I’m going to get dressed and brush my teeth. Then I’ll pack some food and water and start walking.”
“We need to get the gun from the cellar,” Jenna said, her jaw set.
“Yeah. I was thinking the same thing,” I turned toward Charlotte. “We won’t go anywhere until you get back.”
“I’ll return as soon as I can. With help.”
Jenna frowned, lifting her foot. “I’m sorry about my ankle. I should have listened to everyone about the zip line.”
“It’s not your fault.” Charlotte’s eyelids closed. “No one could have foreseen this.”
A silence as thick as lake water filled in around us. I had the feeling my feet were stuck in the mud and I couldn’t move. My friends also remained motionless. At last, Charlotte turned and dragged her soaking legs toward the cabin. I scanned the horizon for any sign of movement, for any warning that Ed and Marlene had returned. Those evil people were killing my friends. There were no other suspects.
A gust of wind whipped from the lake and blew across my cheek. A nearby branch groaned and cracked. The air was colder than expected and sent a chill traveling over my skin. Somewhere inside my mind, the picture shifted. Doubt poked at my resolve. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck bristled as I watched Charlotte scurry behind the door. Jenna stared toward the cabin with a blan
k expression. I had no idea what she was thinking. A repulsive thought formed slowly, dark and discolored like a bruise. Travis and his friends weren’t the only suspects. Travis’s words from the other night floated past my ears along with the wind: “Same as the last time you stayed here.” Had he been mistaken, or had one of my friends been to this place before? I thought of the long history with Charlotte and Jenna—the lies, the slights, the betrayals, and the five-year gap since our last get-together. Five of us had arrived at this desolate cabin. Now, only three of us remained. I pinned my lip under teeth, drawing blood. This shocking alternative was almost too terrifying to consider, and yet the horrible question forced its way into my mind. What if one of us was the killer?
I deposited Jenna’s assignment from her Nineteenth-Century Women’s Literature class on the bed next to her. The warmth of the room soothed my numb fingers after my trek across the frigid campus. It was a relief to have Jenna back in the house on 14th Street. It had been too quiet without her. The day after the car accident, we’d learned the crash's impact had fractured her femur in two places, and a metal pin had been inserted in her leg. The hospital required her to stay for a week after the surgery, but now she was on bed rest. Because Jenna couldn’t walk to class, Sam, Kaitlyn, Charlotte, and I took turns visiting her professors and collecting assignments.
I patted the stack of books, several printouts of questions tucked inside. “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of reading to keep yourself busy.”
A smile tugged at Jenna’s lips, but her eyes had lost their usual glimmer. Her constant talking and chiding had dried up. I knew why she didn’t feel like cracking jokes. Yesterday, Jenna’s doctor had told her that her leg would require another surgery in six months. The implication was painfully clear: Jenna wouldn’t be playing soccer during her final year of school. Her soccer career was over.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” I asked. “Are you thirsty? Or hungry? I can run out to Campus Café and get you a frozen yogurt with Oreos mixed in? Or a hot chocolate?”
