Shot. A bullet. Cassie. Where is Cassie?
I look around, but already I know she’s not with them. I never should have left her alone, not even for a second. Not even so she could calm down. My heart is pounding as I start for the doors, but I have to be careful. Can’t risk them stopping me now. We’ll head straight back into the woods behind the cabins. In the opposite direction of where Fiona got shot. And I will lead. And Cassie will survive.
“Where’s Miriam?” Adam shouts to no one in particular. “She needs to take a look at Fiona’s leg.”
It’s my chance. I know that it is.
“I saw her outside before.” I move fast now for the door. “I’ll go get her.”
This is technically true. I did see her out there a long time ago.
“I’ll look in back,” someone else calls.
“Come on, let’s move Fiona to the couch in the office,” Adam says without looking up. “We can elevate her leg.”
My heart is racing as I reach the door. The far cabin, that’s where Cassie must be. Where Fiona’s clothes are. It’s a straight shot across the grass. I hold my breath, but no one stops me at the door.
Outside, I look right and left as I make my way down the cabin steps. The clouds have turned an ominous purply-black, and I have the most awful feeling that I’m being watched as I make my way quickly across the grass. Like there are dozens of North Point people out there, looming in the woods. Biding their time until nightfall. But I don’t see anyone. Not even Stuart.
“Wylie!” When I turn, Quentin is rushing down the steps after me. “We found Miriam. She’s inside.”
Caught. Now what?
“Oh,” I say. Lie. I am sure I should do that. I like Quentin and he offered before to come, but I can’t risk that Fiona getting shot has changed his mind. “I just want to bring Cassie up to the main cabin with the rest of us. She went to change.”
“They already moved her. Back to where you all were. It’s our safest safe house.” He points in the direction of the cabin we started out in. It’s dark. Not a soul in sight. “Stuart’s standing watch.”
I look again. “I don’t see him. I don’t see anyone.”
“Well, that’s the point, right?” Quentin says. “For no one to know they’re over there? It’s safest for her there. I mean, not so much if we keep standing here drawing attention to it.”
And now I am out of lies. I have no choice but to push down all my doubt and trust him.
“Cassie and I need to go,” I say. “Now.”
“Agreed,” Quentin says without hesitating, and I feel so relieved I could cry. He’s not even going to make me convince him. “But not alone, okay? Just let me get my jacket and my phone, and then I’ll go with you.”
I look back toward the dark cabin. I consider running for it, for Cassie. But I will need Quentin to help deal with Stuart. And the truth is, I am worried. What if I drag Cassie out there and fall apart? What if rushing off into the woods with her is more than I can handle in my condition? What if my dad was right all along?
“Can you be really fast?” I ask.
“Yes, as long as you come back inside with me,” he says. “Because it’s not safe for you to stand out here waiting. And everyone is going to freak out about where you are. Trust me, it’ll be less suspicious.”
I nod and follow. Get in. Get back to Cassie. Get out. One step at a time.
When we get back inside, there is no one in sight, just the bloody tablecloth bunched on the ground with some stained gauze pads next to it. But there are some raised voices coming from the back. Or one raised voice, actually: Adam’s. He’s shouting as Miriam comes out gripping a tray with what looks like medical supplies. As usual, she’s talking to herself. She doesn’t look in our direction, doesn’t even seem to notice us standing there. She’s got a tsk-tsk look on her face. Like she would be wagging a finger if she wasn’t holding that tray.
“Is it bad?” Quentin calls to her.
“Oh, I didn’t see you!” She startles, as usual.
“Miriam, is Fiona going to be okay?” Quentin understandably has much less patience for her inability to focus now.
“Oh, yes, I think so.” Miriam waves a hand. “It’s just a graze,” she says in a way that only someone who was once a combat nurse could. “A few stitches and she’ll be fine.”
“Miriam!” Adam shouts from the back. “She’s feeling dizzy!”
“They really need you.” Another voice now, this one headed our way from the back. A man’s voice that I can’t identify. “Adam’s freaking out.”