Her mother’s car had slid into a gully on the side of the road. Tire marks snaked out behind it. A few broken chunks of metal and a shower of broken glass still dotted pine needles and brush. It had been nearly two months; Avery wondered if they would ever get cleaned up, or if the detritus would just become part of the landscape.
The snap of saplings brought Avery back to the trail in the forest. Fletcher was a good ten feet in front of her, whacking at low tree limbs and brush with a stick. She caught up with him, branches snapping beneath her feet, and Fletcher turned, stick held out in front of him like a weapon. He was breathing hard again—small, shallow breaths.
Avery jumped back. “Whoa!”
Fletcher tapped the tip of the stick on the ground. “Sorry. You surprised me.”
“Next time I’ll wear a bell,” she said under her breath.
They walked along in silence again. Every few feet he’d pause, eyes darting from side to side. Avery thought he was just trying to remember the way he and Adam had come, but as they went deeper into the forest, she wasn’t so sure.
She licked her lips. “So, anything coming to you?”
“You miss your mom?” He didn’t stop or look at her, just kept walking.
Avery was taken aback. “Yeah, of course I do.”
“My mom’s weird.”
Avery nodded, walking a foot behind Fletcher. “She seems okay.”
“She thinks I did it.”
Avery’s stomach plummeted, her chest tight. “She thinks you…”
“Killed Adam.” He stopped, then turned, a loose smile on his lips. “Everyone thinks I did it.”
“Who do you mean by everyone?” Sweat beaded her upper lip. “That’s not what I think.”
He looked her up and down, that weird smile still playing at the corners of his lips. Avery crossed her arms and straightened with bravado she didn’t feel. She felt vulnerable. Exposed.
“I don’t think you killed Adam, Fletch. I know you too well. I know you would never do something like that.”
He narrowed his eyes. The air between them crackled with electricity.
“Let’s keep walking.”
• • •
Fletcher didn’t know why Avery kept falling behind him. The incline wasn’t that steep and they weren’t walking that fast.
She is scared. She is scared of me. The thought burned in his gut. Why should she be afraid of him?
Killer…killer…killer, the whispers chanted.
He tried to brush them away but they were persistent: Killer…killer…kill her.
“Shut up!”
Avery looked at him, startled. “I didn’t say anything.”
Embarrassment burned up Fletcher’s spine, flushing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Avery. I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean anything.”
They were nearing the clearing by the gully.
“My God, Fletch. Dude, you’ve got to see this…”
“Did you hear that?” Fletcher asked suddenly.
Avery looked around, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Hear what?”
The adrenaline was coming fast and hard now, pumping through his veins. “Adam. It sounded like Adam.”
Avery took a step back, her eyes saucers as she shook her head from side to side. “No, Fletch. I didn’t hear anything. Maybe we should head back. I think this may have been a bad idea.”
Why was she doing that? Didn’t she want to find Adam?
What happened to Adam?
He watched his own arm dart out like a venomous snake and grab Avery’s wrist. “Come on. Come on, let’s go.”
She followed, but after a few steps, she shook him off. “I think this was a bad idea, Fletch. I’m going to go back.”
“No! You can’t!” Fletcher stared into Avery’s eyes. “We can’t.”
“Fletch—”
“You found me once, Avery. Please don’t let me get lost again.”
Avery nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Twenty-eight
Fletch was acting weird.
Really weird.
His eyes were wild, and he jumped at every sound: a squirrel in the brush, his own foot snapping a twig. He was sweating profusely, though his breathing was more subdued. Still, something was wrong.
Fletcher stopped abruptly.
“What happened, Fletch? What happened out here?”
His lower lip started to tremble. He flapped his hand by his ear again. It almost sounded as if he was humming.
“Fletcher?”
He pointed to the ground. “We were here. Me and Adam.”
Avery’s palms went clammy against the notebook in her hand. “Go on.”
“He’s bad, Avery. He’s really, really bad.” He cocked his head, eyes still flashing primitively, and pressed his finger against his lips. “He’s probably listening right now.”
“Who’s listening? Who are you talking about?”
It sounded like Fletcher said “Adam.” But before she could ask, he reached out and gripped Avery by her wrist, yanking her along with him deeper into the gully. Enormous redwoods were all around them, branches crosshatched over their heads and blocking out the sunlight. The deep pine scent was claustrophobic. Avery dug in her heels.
“Stop it, Fletch. You know that Adam is dead.”
Fletcher looked at her. He blinked. “He had to.”
She pulled her arms free. “He had to what?”
“Die, Avery. Adam had to die.”
Ice water exploded in Avery’s veins. “Who said he had to die?”
Fletcher took another step toward her. Avery could smell him, the clean scent of detergent now smothered by sweat and dirt. He leaned close, his lips brushing against her ear. “They did.”
Avery’s heart slammed against her ribs. “Who are they?”
Fletcher licked his lips. “Do you miss your mom, Avery?”
The air went still.
“You already asked me that.”
He smiled, a toothy, easy smile that shot terror through her. “My mom is always watching me.”
He turned and began walking down the trail, winding deeper into the woods.
“Hey, Fletch, let’s just—”
Fletcher paused and kicked at a pinecone at the edge of the trail. “My mom is always watching me, Avery. I think…I think she does it for them.”
“That’s normal, Fletch. My dad watches me like a hawk.”
Fletcher cocked an eyebrow. “Does he?”
“Yeah.” Avery knew it was a lie but suddenly she felt exposed, felt the need to cover herself. She wasn’t exactly regretting coming out here with Fletcher, but she was no longer excited about it either.
“I think your father watches everyone.” Another turn, another few feet into the forest. “He doesn’t pay that much attention to you. He wasn’t even there that night.”
“What night?”
“The night all your windows were opened.”
“He was working.”
“He wasn’t there to see the way you looked when you came down the stairs.” He dragged his tongue over his lower lip, smiling faintly. His eyes were distant, like he was seeing something other than the trees around them. “You looked like one of those cops on TV.” He mimed holding a gun close to his chest, the way she had held her flashlight, as he sidestepped down a grade. “You looked so beautiful.”
Fletcher locked his gaze on Avery. She shivered. “You were there?”
He pressed a finger against her pursed lips and shushed her. “They were there.”
“Who are they?” Avery said, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice. “You’re scaring me, Fletcher. Who are they and why did they want Adam to die and…and…”—her voice faltered even as she tried to pump in false bravado—“why were they at my house? How did they get in?”
Fletcher leaned close to Avery. “I let them in.”
• • •
Fletcher didn’t want to be in the forest. He’d thought he would be able to remem
ber things, but the same fingers of darkness had reached out to him the second he set foot on the trail. They inched closer. But he couldn’t let Avery see…
He stomped down the whispers as best he could, but even then they reached back for him. One voice at first, then another, then the one he couldn’t stand: Adam’s. Adam’s was soft. Adam’s was sinister.
“Fletcher…” It was back again, hissing in his ear. “You remember what happened. You remember what happened out here… You remember what you did…”
“No, I don’t,” he forced out between gritted teeth.
Avery stopped walking. “Did you say something?”
Fletcher ignored Avery. The throbbing in his head matched the rise and fall of Adam’s whispered voice. He swatted as if the voice was a gnat in his ear and it laughed, enjoying toying with him.
Adam’s voice lured him farther and farther down the trail until the sunlight became mottled and sparse, blotted out by the canopy of old-growth trees knitted together more the deeper they went.
Avery kept talking, telling Fletcher she wanted to go back. He did too, but Adam’s voice—and something else—compelled him to keep moving. Maybe inside the forest he could find peace. Maybe if he went deep enough, they would leave him alone. The temperature started to drop and Avery wanted to know about them again. Fletcher ignored her and kept moving.
• • •
Avery had her phone out, holding it up until a few meager bars populated the screen. “I’m going to call my dad. He can send his guys in here and they can walk with you.”
Fletcher turned, his eyes wild, his lips twisted into a snarl. He was on Avery in a heartbeat, his hand knocking the phone from hers.
“No!”
The phone sailed out of her hand, skittering down the ridge and disappearing somewhere on the forest floor.
“What did you do that for?”
“You can’t call him! He’s going to send me away. You’re going to ask him to send me away.”
Fletcher’s face was a deep red and sweat raced over his brow. He dug both hands into his hair and gripped, baring his teeth. “I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy!”
Avery’s bottom lip started to tremble.
“I’m not crazy,” Fletcher said slowly.
Avery licked her lips and nodded, her mind racing, trying to remember if she’d ever heard that her father had been in a similar situation. What would he do?
“Of course you’re not crazy, Fletcher. I never said that.”
“Your dad will take me away.”
Avery’s eyes focused on Fletcher’s wild ones, her every muscle tensed and ready to run. “He won’t take you away. He just wants to help you like I do.”
“No, no.” Fletcher shook his head. “You can’t help me. You’re on their side. You’re one of them. Adam…Adam was one of them too.”
“Fletch—”
“That’s why he had to die, Avery. That’s why I had to kill him.”
Fire sparked somewhere low in Avery’s gut and singed every inch of her. She’d heard wrong. She had to have heard wrong. Evil was other people, not someone she knew. Not her friend. “You killed Adam?”
Fletcher leaned down low, legs spread as though he would pounce at any moment.
“Had to,” Fletcher said.
Suddenly, he straightened up and shimmied the backpack from his back. It landed with a thump.
If he turns around, I’ll run, she told herself. I’ll make a break for it, back to the trailhead, back to the car.
But Fletcher had the keys. And even if he didn’t, Avery couldn’t drive.
She heard him unzip the backpack and rifle through it; from the corner of her eye she spied him removing two bottles of water. She saw the car keys slip down and disappear at the bottom of the pack.
I could lock myself in the car.
“My dad was going to send me away,” Fletcher said, opening one of the water bottles and taking a big gulp. “He told my mom I didn’t belong out in the world. Not after what I did to Susan.”
Avery snapped to attention. “Susan?”
“My sister.” He spat on the ground.
“What happened to your sister?”
Fletcher’s eyes pinned Avery’s. “Who told you?”
He roared and Avery covered her ears.
“Who told you about Susan?” Fletcher demanded again.
And then, smack!
Avery reeled. The slap against her cheek burned fiery hot. “You hit me!”
“Did they tell you?” He had his hands on her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh as he shook her. “What did they tell you?”
• • •
The voices were growing more insistent. Whispers turned to screams that echoed in his mind, warning him. Avery was one of them. She wanted to put Fletcher away, wanted to lock him up and throw away the key.
He could feel her hot flesh under his palms, and that almost reminded him that she was the Avery Templeton who believed he wasn’t crazy. But then the voices began to separate and disappear, slipping from his head and out into the forest. He shoved Avery away when the first one flashed by him, a thick, black blur, running.
His head was hurting and he couldn’t stop thinking of Susan and Adam, and now Avery. He was in trouble. If he didn’t get them, they were going to get him. The voices told him to fight. The people in the forest—the ones darting behind trees just before he could see them, before he could figure out who they were—told him to kill her. They told him it was only a matter of time before Avery’s father came and took him away.
• • •
Avery’s feet tangled on Fletcher’s backpack, and she hit the ground with a thud. She could feel her palms shredding on the pebbles, and she shrieked when the weight of the backpack pulled her ankle, quirking it at a weird angle.
“Ow! Fletcher!”
But he wasn’t paying any attention to her. His lips were moving, but he wasn’t making a sound. He just turned in fast, jerky motions, looking at the trees, as though something was going to jump out at him.
“Why are you acting like this? What is wrong with you?”
“It’s Adam,” Fletcher said. He didn’t seem to be speaking to Avery, but she wasn’t sure who he was speaking to. “It was Adam. Adam this whole time. He’s trying to kill me. They are all trying to kill me.”
Avery extracted her foot from the backpack strap and massaged her ankle. It didn’t seem to be broken but was swelling against her boot. “Fletch, you have to stop—” Avery stopped in midsentence when the flash of something silver sliding out of the backpack caught her eye.
A pocketknife.
About the size of her palm, about the size of the imprint left in Adam’s knife case.
“Fletch, how do you have this?”
He turned and blinked at her, his eyes wide like saucers. They locked gazes for a beat and then Fletcher launched himself forward, going after the knife.
Avery snatched it and shoved it in her pocket, but that didn’t deter Fletcher. He jumped on top of her, clawing at her arms, pulling on the pockets of her jeans.
“Stop! Stop!”
Avery struggled, adrenaline blocking out the pain she knew she should have felt as she tried to peel Fletcher off her.
“You’re going to kill me! They tried to warn me!” Fletcher was yelling in her face, so close that little bits of spit hit Avery’s cheeks.
“Fletcher, stop, it’s me! It’s Avery! I’m your friend!”
Fletcher growled down at her and stopped moving, blinking as though recognizing her for the first time. Avery panted, her heart pounding against her rib cage. “We’re friends.”
Fletcher sat back on his haunches, still on top of Avery. He seemed to be thinking, considering what she was saying. Tears flooded her eyes.
“Is this what you did to Adam? Did you—did you do it?”
She could feel the rage crash over him. She slid her feet underneath herself and bucked Fletcher off before he could grab her. His fist s
lammed into the earth a half inch from her ear, and Avery crab walked away and got to her feet. Fletcher dove for her, his hand grazing her ponytail, grabbing a fistful of hair.
“Adam had to die! Adam had to die! They made me do it. I had to!”
Twenty-nine
Avery took off running. Each time her foot hit the ground, pain exploded in her ankle, sending shock waves through her body. Fletcher killed Adam. And now Fletcher was going to kill her. She could hear him running behind her, sloppily, stomping though mounds of dried brush and leaves that she skirted.
“Avery!” Fletcher’s voice was nearly unrecognizable, a shrill tear through the silent forest. “Avery, get back here!”
Her heart was hammering; she felt like she was breathing in broken glass. The grove of trees opened on a meadow, streaks of yellow sunlight breaking through the graying sky. She teetered on the edge. There was no place to hide in the meadow. She paused, her blood rushing.
There was no sound.
She didn’t hear Fletcher stomping through the grass. She didn’t hear him yelling for her.
Maybe he stopped. Maybe he gave up.
She folded over, hands on knees, greedily sucking in air through lungs that felt desperate.
“Avery!” Fletcher’s voice echoed. It bounced in front of her and behind her, came from all sides.
“Where is he?” she whispered to herself.
The silence was more terrifying than fighting Fletcher. He could be anywhere. Avery hugged the tree line, doing her best to stay hidden behind the brush and trees. She picked her steps carefully but was sure the thundering power of her heart would give away her location. Her heart pounding in her ears was all she could hear. She was sure that Fletcher could hear it too.
• • •
The whispers stopped abruptly. As if a switch had been flipped. Fletcher was deep in the forest, alone, wrapped in the desolate silence. He didn’t know where Avery was. Why would she leave him?
“Avery?”
He took a few steps and her name echoed back to him again and again. She didn’t respond. Fletcher couldn’t remember which direction he was going or which way he had come. And he couldn’t remember where Adam was.
The Escape Page 17