Tears are glittering in Emily’s eyes, and I can’t do this. I can’t leave them here. We are supposed to stay together. I wrap an arm around my aching middle, wincing against the throb in my hand. I try to speak, but Emily looks right over my head to Lucas.
“Get help,” she tells him. “Be careful. Don’t die getting out of here. Hayley looks stable, but she’s going to need serious antibiotics. You two have to stay alive, or she won’t.”
My breath sticks halfway in. “Emily, I—”
Lucas curls his fingers around my arm. He should argue. Ask something. But he doesn’t, and I knew he wouldn’t because Lucas believes her. Us getting help is the best shot we have.
He takes my uninjured hand and eases us back toward the path. Thank God the trees are thinner here. There aren’t leaves and sticks and things to pop under our every step. Before we’re out of reach, I take a breath because I feel like I should say something important. Meaningful.
All we get is a long look at one another. Jude’s hair is springing in a million directions, and Emily’s got dark smudges beneath both eyes. They look like the kind of people the world forgets, but they aren’t forgettable to me.
Lucas pulls me slowly and carefully through the trees, and I let him. I know this is our best chance. But I can’t help feeling like I’m betraying them.
Chapter 22
The light’s gone golden, and there’s an afternoon sleepiness to the air that makes my bones ache. I’m exhausted, we’re low on water, and we’re backtracking thanks to the steep slope of the mountain in front of us.
“I hate mountains,” I say, panting.
“I hate backtracking.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Are we near the speaker? The place we left Mr. Walker?”
He doesn’t even slow down. “Yeah. We’re basically heading back to where we were when Madison called us. I think it’s easier to get north on the east side of the mountain. She and Hayley were sitting southwest of us. Pretty pathetic that we’ve probably all been in the same three or four square miles this whole time.”
I look ahead at the narrow valley between the two mountains. It looks like the only way through—which scares me because it also looks like the perfect place for someone to be waiting for us. My arms prickle with goose bumps.
“Lucas, is there another way around? Could we go over?”
“We’re about out of water and stupidly low on sleep. I want to avoid climbing unless we have no choice.”
“But that feels like such an obvious place to go, like the mountains just naturally funnel you through that valley.”
He nods. “Yeah, it does.”
“Which means it’s a pretty natural place for someone to be looking for us, right?”
“I just don’t see a better option. Everything out here is a risk. If we go through that valley, we might run into our resident psycho. If we try to climb, we might collapse like Jude did when his dehydration set in. Thing is, either way could get us killed, and if we die, then everyone else dies, which is doubly shitty since they’re all back there counting on us.”
He’s already thought all this through, and I didn’t expect that. His concern alone stuns me to silence.
Lucas notices, wincing. “What?”
“You…you’re worried about them.”
His cheeks go pink, like I’d caught him with his hands in a cookie jar. “I’m just trying to think smart. If Mr. Walker catches up with them—”
“Why do you insist it’s him? Madison’s the only one with an actual motive. You saw the way she looked at you. Looked at us. Plus, none of this stuff requires a big person.”
“Whoever did this killed Ms. Brighton.”
“Ms. Brighton and Madison are about the same size,” I argue. “With a weapon, it’s definitely possible.”
Lucas shrugs a shoulder, like he’s not so sure. “OK, what about her finger? Do you think you could apply enough force to actually sever—”
“Let’s just not,” I say, the mental image making my stomach roll. “Look, I don’t care what anybody says. Mr. Walker doesn’t seem like a killer. I mean, not that Madison does, but…”
He lets out a low breath, and I feel like there’s something he’s not saying.
“Wait, are you defending her because of some sort of history between you two?”
He tilts his head right, then left, like he’s sorting out his response. “She wanted to go there. Last year. Her brother and I got into it, and I think she took that as some sort of sign that I was interested. It was ridiculous, but she was…hard to shake off.”
I arch a brow. “I’ll bet. I knew she was hot for you, but is it like…obsession?”
“Nah. She’s into lots of guys. She was probably trying to date me to get back at her brother for some stupid thing or just for drama’s sake. Or, hell, maybe because she liked the idea of dating a big, bad criminal.”
“You’re not a criminal.” He laughs, so I grab his shirt to make him stop. “Lucas, you’re not a criminal. You’re out here trying to be a hero, for God’s sake.”
“We can talk about heroics if I actually manage to get you out of here.”