by Nancy Holder
With a shudder, she dropped her head back and he kissed her forehead. If only they could keep kissing until the sun rose, they would be all right. She turned around and molded her body to his. He sucked in his breath, her hands sneaking beneath the hoodie to touch his bare, cold skin. He shivered, and she did, too.
Kyle’s hands passed lightly over her shoulders, her arms, her back. Then they pressed together so fully that not even a dust mote could have drifted between them.
But the dark thoughts could.
They were surrounded by death and murder. Stacy had died. Where was Morgan?
Hush, for just one moment, her heart pleaded. Let me have this.
“Kyle,” she whispered.
They clung to each other. Kyle wrapped a hand around the back of her head and pressed the side of her face against his chest. His supercharged heartbeat betrayed his fear and, as they wrapped around each other, his desire, too.
“I didn’t know you liked me,” he murmured.
“You’re so stupid,” she said.
He grunted. “Why didn’t you let me know?”
“Because every other girl at school lets you know.”
“I thought you were competitive.”
“Not over a guy,” she said, tapping his chest with a half-formed fist.
“Why not? If it’s what you want.” He fanned his fingertips beneath her chin and raised her face to his. Then he kissed her again. This was Kyle and they were both okay and it felt like they had gone somewhere else that she had dreamed of going with Kyle Thomas a hundred times, a hundred thousand, and here they were. For one heartbeat only, they had made it.
Reality rushed back in just as fast, and Robin knew it was time to get back to business. The business of survival.
“We need to stop,” she said. He kept holding her, and she knew he wanted to do things she had never done.
“Kyle, c’mon,” she murmured, and he moaned in frustration.
“For all we know, the killer’s in the attic, too,” she whispered. “We’re already being foolhardy.”
“I’m so sorry you came here,” Kyle murmured, taking her hand.
“Sames.”
“Robin,” he began, and then he stopped.
She waited, and when he didn’t go on, she waggled his hand to prod him.
“It’s just…” He blew air out of his cheeks. “We know that someone is trying to kill us. And…” He turned his head. She cupped his cheek.
“Kyle, what?”
“If we think someone is doing it…if we figure out who it is…” He bit down on his lower lip. “To protect ourselves, what if we…we strike first?”
Silence fell between them. She could hear her heartbeat.
“Oh my God.” She covered her mouth with both hands. “You mean kill someone?”
He stood wordlessly for a moment, and then he blurted, “No, no. I mean what if we tie them up? Or lock them up someplace? August…”
“But what if we guess wrong? And the killer comes after them?”
“Yeah. I know. No, I don’t know,” he said. “If anyone tried to hurt you…if I suspected any of them…”
“You’re scaring me,” she told him. “I’m already scared enough.”
“Sorry. I’d be happy if someone offered to protect me.” He started to run his hands through his hair and wiped them on the hoodie instead. “Let’s go back to the group.”
She didn’t move.
“Hey.” He brushed her lips with his. “I won’t do anything crazy. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “And, Kyle? I will protect you.”
They kissed again, longingly, tenderly at first and then once again, Robin reluctantly put on the brakes.
They slid some crates to the trapdoor opening and clambered up them. Then they eased cautiously down the fire escape, hanging on when the aged metal threatened to dump them. Kyle reached the ground first. He put his arms around her waist and lowered her carefully to the ground as if she would shatter, and she realized that she wasn’t used to anyone fussing over her. After her dad had been hurt, she had stepped up. Tonight was supposed to have been about acting her age and having some fun.
Big mistake.
They walked around to the door into the warehouse and Robin paused.
“I think we should move out of this building,” she said. “We should try to find a way out of here. If we can’t find a working car, maybe we should just get to the road. Even if Drew…didn’t make it.” She licked her lips and tried not to hear the echo of his final scream in her memory.
“What about the note?” he asked softly. “Around Heather’s neck?” He looked at the door. “What if we go back in there and someone else…”
“Don’t even say it.”
She placed her hand over his and together, shoulders squared, they turned the knob. She closed her eyes for one second, and then she walked in first.
Robot corpses and human bodies littered the floor.
The room looked deserted. Then Beth popped up and ran toward them. Her hands were bloody; Robin sucked in her breath and a wave of disorienting panic washed over her.
Someone else has died.
“It’s Praveen,” Beth said. “She’s been scratching herself to shreds.”
Kyle swore under his breath and followed Robin and Beth as they clattered across the cavernous space. Thea and Praveen were squeezed into a corner; Praveen was wrapped in a black tablecloth.
“Hey,” Robin said, feeling massively awkward because she didn’t know Praveen at all. Beth gave her a look and drew back the tablecloth. Praveen’s pretty green blouse was streaked with blood.
“Shit,” Kyle muttered.
“It itches,” Praveen whispered fiercely. “I can’t stop it. It feels like there are matches under my skin.”
“Do you have some cream or something in your purse?” Robin asked her.
“Nothing will help,” Praveen whimpered. “It’s a very rare disease. No one else can even see it.”
Robin was freaked. She looked at Beth, who rolled her eyes and gave her head a little shake.
“This is new,” Beth muttered. “At least, new to me.”
Robin said, “You have to try to stop. You’re hurting yourself.”
“I don’t believe Drew is dead,” Praveen said frantically. “I think they saw the killer falling into the ocean. I think the killer committed suicide, like Alexa.”
“Alexa drowned,” Beth said. “By accident.”
“So they say.” Praveen itched and scratched.
Robin reached out to pat Praveen, then thought the better of it. Maybe it would be painful to her. Instead she gave Praveen a sympathetic smile and got to her feet.
“Listen, Praveen. Beth. Everybody,” Robin said. “We couldn’t see much of anything up in the tower. No cars we couldn’t account for, anyway. And we couldn’t figure out if the killer got into the warehouse from there. So we’re not going to stay in here anymore.”
“We have to start the hunt,” Beth said anxiously. “We need to get moving.”
“I don’t want to.” Thea hugged herself, hunched over, despondent, terrified. “I just want to go home.”
Kyle dipped his head. “I’m going to get some more flashlights.”
As he walked away, Beth wiped her hands on the black tablecloth and crossed to the refreshment table to pluck up a water bottle.
“Don’t. It’s poisoned,” Praveen said in a weird flat voice. She didn’t blink. Surrounded by her dark hair, which had come loose from its braid, and the black tablecloth, her face was a small, gaunt mask of catatonia.
“It hasn’t been opened,” Beth said, showing her. Then she twisted off the cap and doused her hands one at a time. “What if there’s more than one killer? What if they figure out what we’re doing—that we’re searching for the car instead of ‘following the rules’—and they come after us?”
Robin shrugged. “They’re already after us.”
Beth dried her hands on a black cloth napk
in. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I tricked you into coming and I…I didn’t look out for you, Rob. I could have been nice to you, done things for you after I made it. Instead I just kind of left you behind because I wanted…” She looked down. “I wanted things I wouldn’t get out of you. I’m a user.”
“You don’t have to be,” Robin said. “A lot of people liked you just the way you were.”
Beth searched Robin’s face. “But the way I was…wasn’t good enough. Robin, I wanted to have an amazing life like these guys.”
“What’s so amazing about this?” Robin asked, and a sad chuckle bubbled out of Beth’s mouth.
“Well, except for this.”
“Alexa DeYoung had it all. It didn’t make her happy. She didn’t think she had an amazing life. And neither do most of the people who came here tonight. They’re miserable. They don’t know how to get what they want. They just try to bully the universe into giving it to them.”
Beth blinked. She thought a moment, and then she said, “God, you’re right.”
“Look at Praveen. She’s completely nuts.”
“And a klepto,” Beth said. And the tears spilled. “I don’t understand how to grow up,” she cried, sinking into Robin’s arms. “I’m so scared we’re going to die here and I’ll never figure it out. When we get out of this, I’m going to do something amazing for you. I’m going to help you. And your family. I’m going to be a good person again.”
Robin put her arms around Beth and squeezed tight. “You’re still a good person, Bethie-B. You just lost your way for a little while.”
“I did what I had to do to become friends with these people,” Beth half whispered. “I tried to bully my way in, like you said. I did bully my way in. I’ll do whatever I have to so we can leave here. Nothing will stop me. Nothing.”
“Same here.” Robin let go of her and held out her hand. “Let’s shake on it.”
“It’ll be our pact.”
They shook. Beth smiled as if she were almost more excited than frightened. Her eyes glittered. They were both tough as nails. No wonder they had been friends in the old days.
“So we have a few different ways we can go,” Robin said. She held up her fingers. “Find the killer. Find his car. Win this game.”
“Kill him,” Beth whispered, and Robin’s brows shot up.
“Wow, B.”
“Didn’t know I had it in me, did you?” Beth said soberly.
“No. I didn’t.”
“What about you? Could you kill someone?”
She had just had this conversation with Kyle in the bell tower. Now it didn’t seem quite as abstract. Robin pulled in her chin and raised her eyebrows. “Could I be a killer? How can anyone do that?”
“All these things I know about people,” Beth said. “Cheating, stealing. Lying. I was so shocked at first. Now”—she shrugged—“it just seems normal. Everyone breaks the rules. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t.” She cocked her head. “Except maybe you.”
“Got the flashlights,” Kyle announced. “Let’s go.”
From out of the darkness, Larson said, “I can’t.”
BETH STEPS UP
BETH’S RULE #3: Your special thing can be a secret.
Larson was in too much pain to scramble all over the cannery, and Praveen was too shell-shocked. The rest of the survivors separated into two groups: those who were leaving and those who were staying. Beth volunteered to remain with Larson and Praveen, her first act of sacrifice in her quest to be a good person again.
Footfalls signaled a mass exodus to the door as Kyle squatted in front of Beth and handed her the knife. Robin bent down beside him. “I’m not sure it’s the best thing, you staying here,” Kyle said.
“Someone’s got to do it.” Her voice wobbled and she searched deep inside for that moment when her courage had flamed like a comet. “But I do wish I had a rocket launcher.” She chewed her lower lip. “One thing? The faster we get her out of here, the better.” She jerked her head at Praveen, who had retreated somewhere very distant and unreachable.
Robin kissed Beth’s cheek as the two turned away. “It might be better if we draw out the hunt,” Kyle murmured. “Maybe the killer will get tired and make a mistake. Or someone will come. Our parents will start to wonder. A car might come down the road.”
Beth hoped they didn’t adopt that strategy. She wanted this over with as soon as possible. But only if at the end, they were all alive.
Kyle took the bat. The others trooped out with him.
“Praveen,” Beth said, “I’m going to check the door to make sure it’s locked. I’m not leaving. I promise.”
Praveen made a mewing noise like a kitten. More than anything else that had been said or done thus far, the unnatural little sound scared Beth, as if Praveen was somehow becoming less human. Beth eased away from her and got to her feet so she could check on Larson.
To her surprise, he was sitting up. According to her medical shows, if his rib was broken, that would have been excruciating. Maybe it was just bruised, then. That would be a hundred thousand times better than the alternative.
“Are you leaving?” Larson asked.
“Just locking the door,” she promised.
Holding the knife in one hand, she used the other to drag the same chair August had used underneath the doorknob. She studied the ebony rectangles on either side of the stage. Lots of places to attack from. She had no doubt that there were doors she didn’t know about that weren’t locked. Punched-out windows to crawl through.
Stop it.
She walked back to Larson and squatted down beside him. “Can I get you something? Some water?”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I didn’t mean to bail on you down at the beach.”
“Did you actually just apologize to me?” she asked him.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll…well, I won’t kill you,” he said. He screwed up his face and she knew he was hurting.
She smiled at Larson and said, “Apology accepted, Lar.”
He grimaced again. “Don’t call me that. I hate that.”
“Oh.” She mimed zipping up her mouth and throwing away the key. “Done.”
She wanted to kiss him. He was a captive audience, so to speak, and after all, they’d been flirting pretty intensely on the beach. But she decided against it. The timing was all wrong.
Rising, she steadfastly did not look at any of the bodies as she crossed the room. She lifted a lantern off one of the tables and held it up high as she looked for her purse. She finally found it and fished out some ibuprofen for Larson.
MICK’S RULE #2: People show their true faces when the chips are down.
Once they were assembled outside the warehouse, everyone paused and took stock. In addition to the bat, Kyle was carrying two flashlights and Thea cradled an electric lantern in her arms like a newborn. Mick and Hiro were each hefting an end of Kyle’s crowbar and a lantern, and all August had was a lantern and a barbecue lighter. The sum total of their weapons.
“Is Praveen…okay?” Mick asked Robin. “I mean, well, you know what I mean.”
For the record, he hadn’t thought she was okay for a long time. She had this habit of saying the scariest things about what she was going to do to people she didn’t like. She just threw them out there like it was perfectly normal to discuss burning down a store because they had accused her of shoplifting. Or poisoning the munchies at a gig because the groupies were crowding Drew.
Poisoning? His heart turned over in his chest. Could Praveen have poisoned Stacy?
“I don’t know,” Robin replied.
“So now we’re in it with you people,” he said. “We need to play this dirtbag’s game.”
“Or find him and stop him,” Robin said.
They locked gazes and Mick inclined his head. He had to give this girl her due. She was smart and people listened to her. He wondered if he should say anything about Praveen.
Kyle took Robin’s
hand as August stood with the door to his back and gestured for everyone to gather around him. “I think this clue is about a well. Like a water well,” August said. “That’s what we need to look for.”
Robin frowned. “They wouldn’t dig a well here. This is the ocean. All they would get is salt water.”
Thea raised her hand. “Maybe there’s, like, a wishing well.”
August squinted at her, obviously confused and irritated, and Mick cleared his throat.
“I know this sounds like a dangerous idea, but what about forming a couple of hunting parties? And we can also keep looking for the killer’s car.”
“I agree with Mick. We should split up. We can cover more ground that way. It also gives the douche bag less chance of taking us all out,” Kyle said.
“That’s easy for you to say when you’ve got the baseball bat,” August snapped. “Where’s the knife?”
“Beth has it,” said Robin.
Thea turned a stricken face toward Robin. Mick knew how she felt. He couldn’t believe he was in a situation where people were talking about how to improve their odds of living through the night, and all they had to protect themselves with was a baseball bat. And this idiotic crowbar, which they would do well to dump.
“We need more protection,” Robin said.
“Here are your spreadsheets from my hunt,” August said, passing them out like graded homework papers in a class at school. “Beth’s and Kyle’s teams had more weapons to find: a wrench, a lead pipe, a revolver—”
“A gun? Where did you hide it?” Robin said, shuffling her paper.
“The revolver isn’t real,” August said. “Sorry.”
At least the knife is real, Mick thought. Although in the hands of someone like Beth it could well be more of a liability than anything else. Sometimes the only thing a knife was good for was getting stabbed with it after someone took it away from you.
“We have a better chance of finding him if more than one group is looking for him,” Mick insisted. “He can’t spy on all of us at the same time.” He looked at each member of the group in turn. A few hours ago, the only three whose names he’d known had been Praveen, August, and Hiro. But there was now also Kyle, Thea, and Robin. Six people. Then Beth and Larson and he made nine. Whether that other girl Morgan was alive or dead, victim or killer, remained to be seen.