“Still in the city. I came back last night with Marion because she threw a fit, saying she couldn’t be away from Davy for another day.” I’d expect Kendall to roll her eyes at this, but she just looks worried. “Now I know—they must have been planning this.”
We continue to move at a jog through the woods. I’m afraid, even though there’s no need to be. We’ll reach them before they get far. We’ll stop them.
Still—I don’t want Davy anywhere near that ravine.
I don’t want to picture it, but the image rises in my mind: Thatcher, thin legs sticking out at an odd angle, blue eyes wide and staring. Then the image shifts, the boy’s hair turning blond, and it’s my brother I see lying there, motionless, blank, dead.
I clutch Fiona’s necklace to me, then run faster.
“Addie!” Kendall gasps behind me.
“We need to catch up—”
“No—I thought I heard something.”
I freeze, Kendall pulling up beside me. We’re both still, listening. But all I hear is the blood pounding in my ears.
“What’d you hear?”
“I’m not sure.”
We listen for another moment, but there’s nothing.
We continue on our way. As we get farther into the trees, I keep my ears pricked, my eyes darting around for any sign of human life, but there’s only a squirrel scurrying in the undergrowth, the call of a bird. I wait for that feeling of eyes watching me, that prickling on the back of my neck, but there’s nothing. It feels like Kendall and I are totally alone.
Suddenly I hear a rustling not far off. Kendall and I both freeze.
I strain to hear, thinking it’s just my imagination—but no, there it is. Footsteps through the woods, coming from behind us. It sounds like the person is running.
Chasing us.
Kendall grabs my arm and pulls me behind a thick bush.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who’s coming, if it’s friend or foe, if we should call out that we’re here, if we should hide. And so I wait, breath held, poised to run if I have to.
A figure bursts into the clearing in front of us.
Holding a small silver handgun.
Jeremy.
I’m frozen.
Jeremy—it was Jeremy, this whole time—
And somehow he knew we were here—he’s hunting us—
He stops, the gun pointed out in front of him. Listening for something.
I steal a glance at Kendall. She’s watching him, her eyes narrowed. She looks at me, puts a finger to her lips.
Then, before I can say anything, before I can do anything, Kendall steps out from behind the bush, pulls something out of her bag—
A small black gun.
I’ve barely registered the fact that Kendall has a gun when she holds it out in front of her.
And shoots Jeremy.
43
Someone, somewhere, is screaming.
It takes me a moment to realize it’s me.
Jeremy’s dropped to the ground. Without even deciding to, I’m leaping out from behind the bushes and running toward him.
“You shot him!”
I don’t hear whatever Kendall says. I don’t even think about how a moment ago I thought Jeremy was here to kill us. All I know now is—I don’t want him to die.
He’s clutching at his shoulder. The bullet hit him near his collarbone. I have a moment to be grateful it missed his heart, missed his head, but his face is sickly pale, and the blood, there’s so much blood—
I look wildly from Kendall, standing not far away, the gun in her hands, back down to Jeremy. I have to—stanch the bleeding—
“Call 911,” I order Kendall.
I pull my T-shirt off so I’m in just my sports bra, ball it up, press it into Jeremy’s wound. Within moments it’s soaked through. Jeremy is whiter than a sheet, gasping. It’s like he can’t even see me.