“She’s right,” I say, shoulders hunched. “My dad…” I swallow back a sudden push of tears. God, my dad. It was hard for him to even sign the permission slip. I’m sure he’s watching every checkin. No way would he sit by for eight or ten hours with no word. “My dad would call for help. I’m all he’s got.”
Lucas sighs. “And every police officer worth his badge will write him off until we’ve been gone a hell of a lot longer than this. This whole trip was supposed to be off grid, so no one’s going to realize we’re in danger. Plus, Jude’s right. Whoever trashed our stuff might have kept the GPS to send checkin messages.”
“But there are supplies in camp,” I say, sounding weak. Almost desperate. I’m losing the fight, but I can’t let go.
“Destroyed supplies,” Jude says. “Wake up, Sera. We know this isn’t a prank now. Even Lucas is thinking smarter than you are right now. We need to get ourselves out of here. We can send help. Anything else is stupid.”
“Agreed.” Lucas ignores Jude’s derision this time. “So, north until we hit the highway.”
I laugh. “I’m sorry, did I miss the part where someone voted you two rulers supreme?”
Lucas whirls on me. “What the hell do you want us to do? Leave you here?”
“I want you to respect the fact that you don’t get to decide for us.”
Lucas stalks forward. The hair at his temples is damp, and his chest is heaving. “You know damn well I respect you. But if your choice is to sit here and wait for someone to come lop off a finger or two, I don’t respect that. I won’t make you go, but I won’t stay here with you.”
“But Mr. Walker—” Emily starts.
“Mr. Walker needs a doctor,” Jude says. “Among other things.”
“Since I haven’t seen any doctors around…” Lucas trails off as if that’s all that needs to be said on the matter.
“Then let’s go back to camp and talk about it,” I say. “We can check on him.”
“You mean go back to camp so you can talk us out of leaving.” Jude’s chin is looking extra sharp again. “No way. Whoever took Ms. Brighton’s finger could be taking Mr. Walker’s right now.”
I rub the back of my sticky neck, my whole head set on a continuous throb. “Maybe we could rig some of the phone pieces together from the supply pile.”
“Are you even hearing yourself right now?” Lucas scoffs. “There is a psycho out here. You want to waste time trying to build a phone out of busted microchips and bird shit?”
“Maybe she wants us to go back for another reason,” Jude says, eyes narrowing.
My fists clench. “Stop trying to pin this on me!”
“Whatever you say, Darling,” he fires back.
Lucas laughs. I think he aims for cruel, but tired is closer to the mark. He pushes his sweaty hair off his forehead, and his eyes go half-mast.
“She didn’t do this. No chance,” he says.
I let out a little disbelieving huff. Maybe I should thank him, but I know when he opens his mouth, he’ll ruin it.
And he does. “She’s nowhere near ballsy enough to pull something like this off.”
My fists clench. “I’m not going anywhere with either of you.”
“I’m staying too,” Emily says softly.
Lucas’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t fire anything back. I see the briefest flash of pink tongue, and then it looks like he’s going to smirk. But then his eyes go sad. “Hell of a risk just to stay away from me, Sera.”
“I can’t leave Mr. Walker,” I say.
“We’re better off together,” he says, and when I don’t respond, he shrugs. “Suit yourselves. Can’t say we didn’t try. We’ll send help.”
They walk away, and I stand there, fists clenched and face red. We can’t see them for long, but we can hear them. Voices and crashing footsteps. Then just the footsteps. Then nothing.
That’s when I realize Emily and I are on our own.
Chapter 7
“Do you think they’re right?” Emily asks me when we’re back in camp. “Do you think whoever…do you think they’ll come back for us?”
“I don’t know, but hopefully, Mr. Walker will wake up soon.” I look up at the sunshine glinting through broad leaves. It makes the forest look charming. Harmless. It’s not either of those things anymore. “If they wanted to hurt us, they kind of had their chance, right? I mean, they drugged us and wrote on us, but that’s it.” Except that’s not it. When I close my eyes, I can still see that awful discolored thing that was Ms. Brighton’s finger.
Emily shrugs. “They say some murderers have a type. Maybe we don’t fit?”
I glance at Emily’s smooth-lidded eyes and then down at my own coppery arms. She could have a point. Madison and Hayley fall on the opposite side of the human color wheel.
Emily cocks her head. “Ms. Brighton isn’t blond though. Maybe it doesn’t make as much sense as I thought.”
I sigh. “Truthfully, none of this makes sense. If it’s the other three they want, why bother with us at all? We weren’t even on the same side of the river. I still don’t know how they got across for that matter.”
“Not easily. That’s why I don’t think it’s over.”