“And Maggie left you,” I added. “Guess she’s the real rebel, huh?”
Abel still didn’t answer, refusing to give me the satisfaction of a response. Instead his eyes fluttered shut, and it was impossible to tell whether he was ignoring me on purpose or whether he’d drifted out of consciousness again.
I sat and I watched him, my nerves strung tight, waiting for his next move. But he never stirred again. The campsite fell quiet, and Tomás and Rose both appeared to be dozing. I didn’t know what else to do, so I ended up sitting there, not doing anything, until the light changed, going from pink to gold to bronze, a lazy roll past daybreak into dawn. And as the sun came up at last, rising high to meet the day, the wind blew harder. Colder. It nipped my cheeks.
—
I was startled by a noise behind me. Peering over my shoulder, I spotted Avery, Clay, and Shelby crawling from the torn-up tent. Haggard and filthy, the expressions they wore were more shell-shocked than the night before, as they took in the reality they’d woken to. Chilled sunlight and blood spatter. A wounded Rose. Abel tied to a tree. The two blanketed figures wrapped and reverently covered near the pile of firewood.
Clay and Shelby made their way over to me, their shoulders hunched and shivering, their skin sallow. There were fresh tears and I understood that, even if I didn’t particularly want to deal with it. But at some point, Shelby began to sob helplessly, and finally I put my arms around her. She kept sobbing, wetting my neck with her tears, and I noticed scratches on her hands, bloody ones, only I didn’t know how or when that had happened.
I glanced at Avery but she didn’t look at me. She walked over to where Archie sat and shook his shoulder until his eyes opened. He held tight to the rifle resting across his legs but pushed her away with a groan. She shook harder.
Clay went to stand by the fire, but something about him seemed off. It took a moment to realize what it was—his legs were trembling. His whole body was.
“Hey, Clay,” I called out. And when he didn’t answer: “Clay!”
He turned toward me, his expression flat.
“You need to sit down or something. Seriously. You don’t want to pass out in the flames.”
“He was sick all night,” Shelby whispered. “It’s his anxiety. It’s really bad. He even got—”
“Hey, is that Tomás?” Clay asked suddenly.
“Where?” Shelby squinted.
“Right there.”
“Yeah, that’s him,” I said. “He got back a little while ago.”
Clay set off around the fire on those wobbly legs of his. I held my breath watching as he stumbled first over the burned-out propane tank, then again on the ruined stove, both feet catching in a charred metal clatter. Archie laughed loudly to see this, while Avery advised him to shut the hell up; and the whole commotion ended with waking Tomás, who sat up and stared at us with haunted eyes.
“Clay,” he said thickly. “You okay?”
Clay wiped dust from his pants in obvious disgust. “Yeah, I’m fine. What’re you doing here? What happened to you?”
Tomás gave a quick shake of his head. “I’ll explain later.”
I didn’t want him to explain later, and from the look on Clay’s face, the feeling was mutual; but I also didn’t want to get sidetracked. We had a plan. We needed to stick to it.
“I’m going to go get the keys,” I announced. “I’ll bring back food and anything warm I can find. Then a couple of us can walk out to the parking area. Drive for help.”
“Will you get my bag while you’re up there?” Shelby asked. “Please?”
“Mine, too,” echoed Clay.
I scowled. “Well, someone has to come with me.”
No one answered.
“Are you kidding?”
Still no answer, which was just fucking great. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Avery whispering something in Archie’s ear again. Cheeks flushed, he shook his head vigorously and shoved her back. Avery said something else—I couldn’t hear what—before turning and marching away from him. Her eyes burned with frustration.
“Hey.” I tried catching her attention, but she brushed past me, arms crossed tight, dark hair falling in her face, to storm off into the trees.
I made a move to go after her.
“Leave that girl alone, Gibby,” Archie warned.
“But I need someone to go with me to get the keys.”
“Well, it’s not gonna be her.”
“Is it going to be you, then?” I asked. “Because I’d kind of like to get out of here.”
Archie snorted. “Fuck getting out of here. I’m not helping you do shit.”
“So you want Rose to die?”
“I don’t care if we all die.”
“Jesus,” I breathed. “You’re an asshole.”
He flipped me off, and this was the Archie I knew. Callous. Uncaring.
Bitter as hell.
“Whatever. I’ll just go by myself,” I said.
“Wait!”
I turned. It was Rose who’d called out to me. She’d managed to sit up in the camping chair, separating herself from her brother. Her face was pale, drawn, but her jaw was firmly set.
“I’ll hurry,” I told her. “I promise.”
“No. That’s . . . that’s not what I want.”
“What do you want?”
“It’s the money.” Her gaze darted from me to Archie to me again. “I know where it is. You have to get it while you’re up there, Ben. It’s our one chance to have this mean something.”
“Huh?”
“That guy.” She took a deep breath, then pointed to Abel, still lying motionless on the ground. “He—he told me where it was.”
“He did?”
She nodded. “When you were gone. Getting that jacket.”
“Why would he tell you that?”
“Because I promised we’d let him go if we found it.”
“Oh, Rose.” My heart foundered. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“So then, where the hell is it?” Archie demanded. “Tell us, already.”
Rose lifted her chin. “I’m not telling you anything, dickhead. I’ll tell Ben. You go with him and help him and maybe he’ll show you.”
“Don’t fuck around like this, Rose,” he said. “I’m serious.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Then tell me where it is!”
“No.”
Archie rose from the tree stump and stomped his way over to where Abel lay curled in his own blood and piss and who knew what else. He didn’t hesitate. Gripping the Preacher’s rifle by the barrel, Archie brought the stock of it down on the back of the man’s head, the blow landing so hard there was an audible crack. Blood sprayed onto Archie’s pants. Abel moaned and writhed against the ropes.
“What the fuck?” Tomás shouted, leaping up from his chair. “You’re going to kill him!”
“I want him to wake the fuck up!”
“He’s not going to if you keep doing that!”
Archie looked at Rose.
“Go with Ben,” she ordered. “Put the gun down. Leave it here. Then go with him up the mountain, and if you don’t piss him off and you don’t act like an ass, maybe he’ll take you to where it is.”
“What?” I squeaked. “I’m not doing that. No way. I’d rather go alone.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“I absolutely would.”