by Laura Wolfe
Jenna pursed her lips. “No. I’m good. Thanks for bringing these books over for me.”
The guilt gnawed at my insides. All at once, I was grateful the enormous room had gone to Jenna. I almost wished she would yell at me and tell me I’d ruined her life, rather than sitting quietly and pretending like she wasn’t mad. I sat down on the edge of the bed and squeezed my hands together. “You know, I just wanted to say, again, that I’m really sorry we made you come to the store with us. And I’m sorry I tried to pass that car. It was so stupid of me. I should have been more careful.”
Jenna blinked and lowered her gaze. “It was an accident. You couldn’t have known.”
“Is there any chance you can forgive me?” Hot tears welled in the corners of my eyes.
Jenna reached over and squeezed my hand. “Megan, I promise there’s nothing to forgive. It’s not like you crashed your car on purpose. Life just sucks sometimes.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks, but I smiled. “Thank you. You’re such a good friend.”
A week later, I exited Jenna’s bedroom, carrying her dirty plate and glass down to the kitchen. She’d started some light physical therapy and was able to move around on her own a little more now, but I insisted on helping her with many of her everyday tasks whenever I could. I turned the corner on the narrow staircase, nearly running into Pete’s bulky frame.
“Oh. Hey Pete.”
“Hey,” he said, looking away.
“How’s it going?” I asked, searching for his usually friendly demeanor. He didn’t respond. He only shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped past me up the stairs, refusing to make eye contact. Something wasn’t right. My stomach turned as I wondered if Pete blamed me for the accident. I wouldn’t hold it against him if he did. I continued down to the kitchen, telling myself that he was probably just having a bad day.
I scrubbed Jenna’s dishes by hand and then moved on to some dirty pots and pans I’d left on the stove the day before. As I dried a spatula with a dish towel, heavy footsteps clomped down the stairs behind me. I turned to glimpse Pete disappearing out the back door. He hadn’t bothered to say goodbye. My jaw tightened at his rude behavior as I returned the spatula to its place in a drawer.
A moment later, a squeal of anguish sounded from upstairs. I paused, hoping I’d imagined it. The noise pierced through the air again. I dropped the dish towel and bounded up the stairs toward Jenna’s room. As I got closer, I peeked through the narrow gap between the open door and the wall. Jenna hadn’t re-injured herself as I’d initially feared; she was sitting in bed, exactly where I’d left her, except her shoulders slumped forward, her face hidden behind her hands. She sobbed.
Jenna prided herself on her tough exterior. Although she could be loud and dramatic, I’d never really seen her cry before, except when her mom died. I froze in the doorway for a second, unsure what to do.
“Jenna,” I finally said, pushing the door open wider and stepping closer to her. “What happened? Are you okay?”
She shook her head and raised her bleary eyes to meet mine. “Pete broke up with me.”
I rolled back on my heels, stunned. My jaw tightened as I remembered the cold vibe I’d gotten from Pete when we’d passed on the stairs and the way he’d slipped out the back door. What an asshole!
“Why?” I asked through gritted teeth.
She hiccupped and glanced toward her leg. “Apparently, we don’t have anything in common anymore.” Jenna’s eyes connected with mine as my stomach dropped to the floor. She didn’t say it outright. Of course, she was too kind to place that kind of blame on a friend. But I saw the flash of hate in her eyes, the way her pupils dilated and expanded in an instant, and I knew what she was thinking—that it was all my fault.
Chapter Twenty-One
“What are you thinking about?” Jenna’s voice tore me from the distressing memory. She’d caught me staring, and I shifted my feet. The warmth in her pale eyes and the curve of her cheekbones was familiar and safe. Even with our long history, it was ridiculous to think either she or Charlotte was capable of anything as sinister as murdering their closest friends.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” I said, blinking away my suspicions.
Jenna exhaled and sat on the nearest step. “I was thinking that I’m glad Travis is dead, even if it was an accident. I hope Ed and Marlene get what’s coming to them, too.”
I slid my palms together and looked away. I’d never witnessed this vengeful side of Jenna before, but her feelings made sense. She was careening through the stages of grief, and she’d landed on anger. A part of me agreed with her. Still, I didn’t want to kill anymore people, even if they had stolen my friends’ lives. “Let’s settle for life in prison.”
“Fine. I’ll take that.”
My thin pajama bottoms and T-shirt were wet and stuck to my skin. I shivered, finding my body shaky and hollow. “Let’s go inside and change our clothes. We can get the rifle and help Charlotte pack some things.”
I stepped past Jenna. She stood and followed me into the kitchen. The room held the chemical odor of the cleaner we’d used the day before to spray the floor and walls. At least the stench of Travis’s decaying body hadn’t yet leeched into the cabin.
Charlotte hurried down the stairs, wearing leggings and an army-green zip-up hoodie. Her dark hair was smoothed back in a ponytail. She carried a dry pair of sneakers in her hand and draped a black backpack over one shoulder. We turned into the kitchen, where she sat on a chair, put on her sneakers, and tied up her shoelaces.
I tipped my head toward the tiny door in the wall. “Should we get the rifle?”
We looked blankly at each other, no one jumping to volunteer. Bile rose in my throat at the thought of viewing Travis’s decomposing body.
Jenna cleared her throat. “I guess I’ll do it.”
I exhaled, but my shoulders tightened as Jenna approached the small door and crouched down. Charlotte and I wavered a few feet behind her as she pulled at the wooden knob. The door stuck and Jenna yanked harder, causing the swollen piece of wood to fling open. I jerked backward, afraid of the smell that would meet me, but only a musty odor seeped into the air. Jenna turned her face away from the darkened opening as she squinted at the ceiling. She reached her arm inside the cellar and pulled the string. The light bulb clicked on.
I flattened myself against the wall, afraid to catch sight of the dead body. Travis had been a horrible, ignorant person, but he was still a human being. I’d killed him.
“What the…?” Jenna gasped. She leaned farther into the cramped space.
Charlotte stepped closer to her. “What’s wrong?”
My heart thrummed against my ribcage.
“The rifle isn’t here,” Jenna said, swinging her head back into the kitchen.
“What?” I forced myself to inch toward the opening, my hands anchored to my sides. I peered into the cellar where Travis’s body lay face down in a mound. A quilt with patchworks of blood covered his torso. Everything appeared just as we’d left him, except the rifle we’d set on top of him was gone.
“What the hell is going on? Who would have taken it?” Charlotte’s face stretched with fear, her eyes flickering between Jenna and me.
I stepped toward the window, squeezing my hands. “Maybe Kaitlyn grabbed the rifle when Marlene and Ed broke in.” Even as I said the words, they didn’t make sense. Kaitlyn would have been able to defend herself if she’d gotten to the gun in time. Instead, someone had held her head under the water and strangled her.
Charlotte bit her fingernail. Jenna massaged her head and sighed.
I swallowed. “So, none of us took the gun. Right?”
“What?” Jenna scratched her eyebrow. “Are you saying you think one of us—”
“Of course, we didn’t!” Charlotte’s mouth gaped. “Don’t you think we would have shared that information?”
I hugged my arms close to my chest, averting my eyes from the friends I�
�d all but accused.
Charlotte glared at me. “Maybe you took it, Megan? Did you steal the rifle and hide it somewhere? I heard you get out of bed last night.”
“I went to the bathroom!”
Jenna stepped forward and held out her arms, creating a wall between us. “Come on, you guys. Turning on each other isn’t going to help. Obviously, none of us took the gun.”
I pulled at the hem of my shirt, feeling a quiver in my lip. I focused on taking a breath and pressing my feet into the floor to center myself. The rush of emotion passed as quickly as it had overtaken me, like I’d been caught in a riptide but had made it to shore. “I didn’t mean to accuse you, Charlotte.”
Charlotte wiped the back of her hand across her eyes and nodded.
“So, who took the gun?” Jenna turned to the side and looked out the window.
“It had to be Marlene and Ed,” I said. “They’re the only other people around.”
Jenna lowered her chin, a dazed look floating in her eyes.
Perspiration dotted my face. We had locked all the doors, and I wondered, again, how Ed and Marlene had entered the cabin without us hearing them. Then again, we’d been exhausted and had drunk too much wine. They must have used Travis’s key.
Charlotte frowned. “They could have swiped the gun last night when they attacked Kaitlyn. I bet she told them where we hid his body.”
The horrifying theory made sense. Ed and Marlene would have discovered Kaitlyn sleeping on the couch when they entered the cabin. Fearing for her life, she must have come clean with them and told them about Travis’s location in the cellar. A tremor traveled up my spine and into my throat, making my next words almost impossible to spit out. “That means Ed and Marlene know we killed Travis.”
Jenna’s swayed to the side. “And that we don’t have a gun.”
Fear stretched through the air, making it difficult to breathe. The mission to find help became even more urgent.
Still, I wondered why Ed and Marlene hadn’t killed all of us when they had the chance. Why was Travis’s body still in the cellar? Maybe his friends had only meant to scare Kaitlyn, not kill her. My thoughts were splintered. I couldn’t piece it all together.
I looked at Charlotte’s backpack. “Maybe we should all go for help. Or all stay? It doesn’t feel right to split up.”
“We already talked about this.” Charlotte shook her head. “Jenna can’t make it on her ankle. Now you have a gash on your foot too. I’ll be able to get to an area with cell reception faster on my own.” She reached over and squeezed my arm. “I’ll send help right away. I promise.”
“Okay,” I said, but the word tasted sour on my tongue. “At least eat something before you go.”
Charlotte pressed her lips together. “I’m not hungry. I’ll take an apple and a couple of power bars with me.”
I didn’t argue with her because my appetite had disappeared too, my stomach churning with grief and worry. I scrounged through Kaitlyn’s grocery bags, locating the box of granola bars and setting them on the table in front of Charlotte. I opened the refrigerator and clutched a shiny apple, trying not to envision how Kaitlyn must have carefully selected it from the fruit stand at her local market only a few days earlier. I handed the fruit to Charlotte. Jenna refilled Charlotte’s water bottle at the sink.
“What’s in your bag?” Jenna asked.
Charlotte unzipped the backpack and peered inside. “My purse, with my phone and credit cards. Sunscreen. Sunglasses. A phone charger just in case my phone battery died.” She lifted the apple and box of granola bars and dropped them in the bag. “Now I have snacks and water, so I think I’m ready to go.” Charlotte lowered her thick eyelashes and stood up.
I imagined her hiking through the woods and along the backcountry roads, exposed and alone.
Jenna gazed toward the window, wringing her hands. “Be careful. Go as fast as you can. Wave down any car you see, as long as it’s not Ed and Marlene.”
“I will.”
I swallowed, hugging my elbows. Suddenly this plan didn’t seem like the best idea. My heart couldn’t endure losing another friend.
Charlotte tightened a strap on her backpack and turned toward us. Her brown eyes reflected a sheen of determination. “Stay calm. There’s bound to be a car on one of these roads. I’ll find help really soon. Make sure you wait here. Don’t go anywhere.”
“We won’t leave.” I spread my arms and stepped into her with a tight hug. Jenna did the same.
“Stay safe, Charlotte. Keep yourself hidden until you get out to the road. You don’t want Ed and Marlene catching sight of you.”
“I know. I’ll stay behind the trees.”
“Good luck.” Jenna stepped back, looking at the floor.
Charlotte hoisted the backpack onto her shoulders and slipped out the door. Jenna and I watched from the porch as Charlotte power-walked across the gravel driveway and took a right down the narrow lane that would eventually lead her out to the never-ending dirt road.
Jenna slumped into a metal chair and buried her face in her hands. The fear and grief swirling in my stomach now radiated into my chest and out through my limbs. A whimper escaped my mouth. I couldn’t help but feel we’d sent Charlotte on a death march.
Jenna looked up. “She’ll be okay. This will all be over soon.”
“I hope so.”
Jenna snapped out of her trance and studied me. “Let’s go inside. We can barricade the doors. You can take a shower and change into dry clothes.” She eyed my foot. “I have extra Band-Aids.” Jenna scooted her chair back and held the door open for me.
Once inside, we dragged chairs from the kitchen table toward each of the two doors, propping them under the handles. We double-checked all the windows, making sure we’d locked them. Jenna limped around the kitchen, where she rummaged through a drawer. She pulled out a butcher’s knife and a smaller paring knife meant for slicing fruit. She held them up.
“We should keep these with us. It’s better than nothing.”
I agreed and gave her the one with the bigger blade because she would wait downstairs while I was in the bathroom.
A minute later, I set the paring knife on the edge of the sink and peeled off my wet pajama pants. Stepping under the steaming water was a relief. Tears slid down my cheeks, along with the streams of water. I was trapped inside a living nightmare. Sam and Kaitlyn were dead, gone forever. Only a day or two had passed since we’d been sitting on the deck overlooking the lake, joking and laughing. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the concept. Despite the hot water blasting against my skin, coldness dripped through me. The three of us who’d survived wouldn’t be safe until we escaped this place. I prayed that Charlotte would be able to find help before Ed and Marlene returned.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I finally shut off the water and wrapped a thin towel around myself. The cabin was quiet as I pulled on my dry clothes and combed the knots out of my hair, the wet ends resting on my shoulders. I almost didn’t recognize my face. My skin was colorless. The wrinkles around my eyes and across my forehead appeared deeper than they’d been only a few days ago. The emotional turmoil was taking a physical toll.
I found Jenna on the couch in the living room with her foot propped up on the table. The blade of the butcher’s knife glinted from its position next to her heel. She’d changed into gray sweatpants and a clean white shirt. Jenna’s head rested on a cushion and her eyes popped open as I stepped down the stairs with the compact knife clutched in my fingers.
Her hand raised to stifle a yawn. “I haven’t gotten any real sleep since we’ve been here.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how I slept last night. Exhaustion and wine, I guess.”
Jenna straightened up, making room for me on the couch.
I lowered myself onto the cushion, setting the knife on the table and pushing my wet hair off my shoulder. “So, did you hear anything when you were awake last night?”
&nb
sp; “I was trying to remember.” Jenna closed her eyes and slowly opened them. “I think I heard footsteps in the hallway at one point, but I assumed it was one of you going to the bathroom.”
“What time?”
“I don’t really remember.”
“It might have been me. I used the bathroom sometime before midnight.”
Jenna stared blankly.
“Can you remember anything else?”
She tipped her head back. “No. I wish I did.”
My eyes flitted toward the window, where clouds gathered outside. “How do you think Marlene and Ed got Kaitlyn down to the lake?”
“They had a gun, remember? Probably two guns, after they took the one from the cellar. All they would have had to do was point it at Kaitlyn and tell her not to scream.”
I crossed my legs at the ankles, then uncrossed them. “Yeah, but the weird thing was, they didn’t shoot Kaitlyn. It looked like she was strangled just like Sam.”
Jenna leaned forward, studying her hands. “Maybe they didn’t want to wake the rest of us up. Their goal is to terrorize us, picking us off one by one because they know we’re trapped. It must be their way of getting revenge for Travis.”
I clenched my teeth. The wind rattled against the window outside. I wondered how far Charlotte had gotten and if she’d found someone to help us yet.
Jenna yawned again. “I’m so sorry, but do you mind if I take a nap upstairs? I’m not feeling so great, and I can barely keep my eyes open.”
A gust of wind rattled the windowpanes, and storm clouds darkened the sky. The thought of sitting in this room alone terrified me, but Jenna looked drained and unwell. I’d been so tired the day before after two bad nights of sleep. I could only imagine how miserable Jenna felt trying to function after three sleepless nights.
“I’ll leave the bedroom door open,” she added.
“Go ahead. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.” Jenna patted the handle of the butcher’s knife. “I’ll leave this with you.” She gripped the handle of the smaller weapon and plodded up the stairs, favoring her healthy ankle. The footsteps stopped halfway up. “Megan, don’t leave the house.”
