We run for it, not even bothering to check outside the door first. At this point, they’re either out there or they aren’t, but we have to go now, or we’ll be trapped.
I grab Gina’s shirt and start pulling her the way I came, but she stops and yanks me in the other direction.
‘The cars are this way,’ she whispers harshly.
We run uphill though the trees. It’s too dark to see more than a few feet in front of our faces. There isn’t a trail, but the underbrush isn’t as thick as it is the way I came. Gina’s breathing is heavy and wet. She’s also clutching her ribs. After only a few minutes of climbing, she’s struggling. I come alongside her and put one of her arms over my shoulder.
‘Are you sure this is the way?’ I’m whispering because we’re barely outside the ring of Dr Goodnight’s labs.
‘Yeah,’ she pants. ‘Up to the ridge.’ She pants some more while she digs in the pocket of her jeans. ‘Cars are parked up there. Go on,’ she says. She hands me her keys and shoves me forward. ‘I’ll catch up.’
I ignore her lie and haul her along with me. ‘How did you figure it out?’ I ask. ‘About the shelter and Dr Goodnight?’
She turns her head to look right at me. ‘Because his son looks just like him.’
We stop dead.
‘His son?’ I repeat. ‘You saw Dr Goodnight’s son?’
‘Yeah. With you. You don’t know, do you?’ Gina sinks down on to a log, grimacing and holding her side. ‘Maria called me back into her office. Tells me to tell you I can’t drive you home,’ she says, exhausted. ‘Then she tries to tell me that boy you were with didn’t look anything like Michael. She knew Michael better than I did. Shit. We both got eyes.’ Gina spits blood. ‘I knew she was lying, so I followed her.’
‘Michael who?’ I ask. I need to be sure.
‘Michael Claybolt. He’s Dr Goodnight. That boy you were with today is his son.’
I hear a loud crack, and I jump, ready to run, but Gina topples forward on to the ground in front of me.
‘Someone’s always got to ruin it,’ Rob says, coming out of the shadows. He’s dressed in dark camouflage gear and he’s holding a gun. ‘Hi, Magda.’
4 AUGUST. PITCH DARK
Two killers.
One clean. One bloody.
Dr Goodnight. And his son.
I back away from Rob. I almost knew this was going to happen. Almost.
‘Or is it Lena?’ he asks, coming towards me. ‘I’ve noticed you like to be called Lena out here in the woods. Or is it just that you like it when Rain calls you Lena?’
I keep edging back slowly.
‘It’s always been hard to keep track of your different personas. You were one person here in the summer, and another person in New York, and then someone else entirely online. You taught me I had to be more than one person to do whatever the hell I wanted and get away with it. Thanks for that. It’s been so much fun watching you all these years.’ His expression suddenly darkens. ‘Not so much fun watching you cheat on me with Rain, but I’m sure we can get past that as a couple.’
I see Gina’s hand twitch, and I don’t know if that means she’s still alive, or if it’s a dying reflex.
Rob jerks his head towards me expectantly. ‘No questions? Nothing you want to ask me?’ When I don’t respond, he smirks at me. ‘Come on! Aren’t you curious about the fact that I’ve been following you the whole time I was supposed to be with my mother – which would be tough because my dad killed her when I was thirteen.’
He laughs at that, but it isn’t funny to him. He wants me to ask him about his mother’s death. He’s wanted to tell me about her since our first date when he showed me that picture in his wallet. I don’t ask. I don’t want to listen to his origin story, but he isn’t going to be denied this moment.
‘He killed her in front of me. He made me help. But it was easy because she deserved it,’ he says simply, though there’s nothing simple about it. ‘That’s when I realized what I really was inside.’
He pauses, allowing himself to catch up with his feelings. Whatever they are, he pushes them down and adopts an airy tone.
‘Coincidently, thirteen was the year we met, and I fell in love with you, but you went for Liam that summer. You didn’t like woodsy boys back then, did you? So I changed for you.’
Let him blame me. Let him tell me I made him. I’m not going to fight it. I’ll eat his sins and add them to my own if I can just get him away from Gina. Her breathing has sped up, and I think she’s coming around. I edge ever so slightly away from her.
‘Still nothing?’ he snaps, following me. ‘You don’t even want to know how I convinced you that you were the murderer? That was pretty amazing.’
He pauses to congratulate himself, but when I still don’t react, I feel his frustration mount.
‘Don’t you want to know how I came up with the idea? Your journal,’ he answers his own question, annoyed that I’m ruining his catharsis. ‘You had no idea you were writing in it. If you didn’t know that, what else didn’t you know about yourself? That, plus I found all those bloody clothes in your closet. I figured if gaslighting you didn’t work, I’d cram a whole bunch of pills down your throat. Works for my dad.’
Now it’s not just Gina’s hand that’s moving, but her face, too. I keep leading Rob away from her.
‘Sorry about Mila, by the way,’ he says, still fishing for a reaction. ‘She saw me go into the woods by your house, and she followed me because I never go into the woods, right? I started setting that up when I was thirteen, like you taught me. You need to be at least two people in order to get away with doing whatever you want.’ He pauses, but I don’t react. ‘But Mila caught me. She was going to end up on my father’s table sooner or later anyway. Fucking junkie. I don’t like the table. I like the hunt. Like you.’
He finally gives up on toying with me and sighs.
‘Where are you going?’ He gestures widely to the forest around us with his gun. ‘I grew up out here – with Rainbow.’ He says the name mockingly.
So. Rob is the childhood friend. The dickhead who hurt Bo when they were thirteen.
‘We were inseparable once. Rain and Rob. But he was strange. You don’t date guys who get within ten feet of strange, or so I thought. Turns out you like strange, don’t you?’ he says, sneering. ‘Don’t think Rain taught you something that I don’t know. You could have an hour’s head start, and I could still catch you before you got back to town.’
I smile at him. It’s a little smile and full of secrets. Then I run.
I have no chance of getting away from him. I know that. Getting away isn’t my goal. I want him to catch me.
I hear him curse behind me. I surprised him. That small victory doesn’t last long. He tackles me from behind and lands on top of me, nearly knocking the wind out of me. He flips me over to face him and grabs me by the shoulders to slam me down again. He hits my head against the ground. Everything goes black for a moment as I almost lose consciousness. He pins my hands above my head.
‘What the fuck are you doing, Magda?’ he screams in my face. I laugh wildly and wrap my legs around his waist.
‘Harder,’ I say.
‘You’re fucking crazy,’ he says, but he likes it. ‘Seeing me kill that woman made you hot, didn’t it?’
I arch up against him and give his lower lip a little nip.
‘You really are perfect for me,’ he says. He kisses me, but he’s not dumb enough to let go of my arms. I pull my knees up his sides and grind against him.
‘Come on. Hit me a little,’ I say, writhing under him. ‘Wait – take my clothes off first.’
He falls for it and lets go of my hands to undress me. My knees still cocked up, I reach one hand up and thread it through his hair. My other hand goes to my ankle. In one motion, I pull the knife out, yank his head back, and pull the blade across his throat.
He throws himself back, his mouth a surprised O and his eyes so wide there’s a complete circle of white aro
und his irises.
But I couldn’t get the angle to sink the blade deep before he moved. I only grazed one side of his neck. And he’s still got his gun.
I jump up and kick him as hard as I can before I run to get Gina. She’s made it to her hands and knees. Tough as nails.
‘Get up,’ I snarl at her. She tries to wave me off, but I drag her to her feet and scream, ‘Get up or we’re both going to die!’
She staggers to her feet. The bullet is somewhere in her back. Her left arm hangs down, totally useless, so I swing her right arm up over my shoulder and start hauling her uphill.
Rob fires a couple of shots behind us, but we’re already covered in darkness.
I’m carrying most of Gina’s weight. My legs shake. I can still taste Rob in my mouth, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I almost do, more than once, but I keep climbing until we crest the ridge.
I see the shadowy shape of cars way down the dirt road. Gina’s head is lolling. She starts mumbling, ‘Go. Just go.’
‘I can’t,’ I reply, laughing bitterly with shock and sheer exhaustion. ‘I don’t know how to drive.’
I hear a zipping sound and feel a bee sting my leg. I swat at it instinctively and find a metal cylinder sticking out of my thigh. I pull it out and look at it.
It’s a dart.
I’m warm all over. I see the ground rushing up, but I never feel it catch me.
4 AUGUST?
There’s a held breath in my chest that makes my heart beat too fast.
I gasp awake.
‘Too much adrenaline?’ a man asks.
I lift my hands and hear a clank. I try to sit up, and something stops me. I kick my legs, and they go nowhere. Every fibre of me is trying to run, but I’m tied down to a bed – or a gurney, more likely. I decide it’s a gurney, based on feel. I focus my eyes. The camouflage ceiling tells me I’m in one of Dr Goodnight’s barracks.
This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up strapped down, so I don’t try to scream. There’s no point, although the adrenaline makes my heart flutter, and I want to scream. I take a shivering breath to steady myself, and the man smiles.
‘You look so much like your mother,’ the man says, studying my face. ‘I don’t blame Rob. He said you were special. That you were one of us. Before you cut his throat.’
Michael Claybolt is a handsome man still, although older than he was in the picture Rob has in his wallet. He’s big and he’s stayed fit. Even the greying hair suits him.
He stands up from the chair next to my gurney and turns his back on me to go to a countertop along the sidewall. As he does, I see a long needle in his hand, and I feel the corresponding ache in my chest from where that needle burrowed into my heart. He drops the needle in a stainless-steel tray.
I hear rasping breaths, and I turn my head. Gina is strapped to a gurney next to me. There’s an IV bag dripping fluid into her arm. I notice I’m hooked up to an IV, too.
‘Rob says you have a taste for it,’ Michael continues. He speaks to me with his back still turned. ‘He said you’ve killed more people than he has.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ I say, trying to talk through a chattering jaw. ‘How many people has he killed?’
Michael faces me. ‘You know how many,’ he chides.
And now I’m afraid of him. Stark terror adds more icy adrenaline to my blood. I shake all the way down my body.
‘Three that have been found,’ I say, forcing myself to answer because I can tell an answer is expected. ‘There could be more, though.’
Michael shakes his head. ‘Rob likes to make a show of his kills. He thinks gruesome equals fearsome.’ He smiles indulgently. ‘He has a theatrical nature. In fact, he came up with the Dr Goodnight moniker. I’m not really a doctor – he borrowed the title from your boyfriend’s father. Said it made me more intimidating.’ He thinks, and then shrugs. ‘He’s still young.’
I hear Gina mumbling incoherently as she starts to come around. Michael notices as well and starts busying himself with medical equipment.
‘He tells me that you’ve managed to kill four people without even touching them,’ Michael says. He lifts a vial, sticks a needle through the membrane, and draws a viscous liquid into a syringe. ‘He says you’re so good, you convince them to kill themselves.’
‘Not all of them,’ I correct. ‘One of my kills didn’t commit suicide, but she was overdosed by a nurse because of me. I’ve also put two people in comas that they haven’t come out of yet.’
‘Interesting,’ he says, thinking. Like this is an interview to see if I’m worthy of joining his and Rob’s club.
‘The two I put in comas probably won’t make it,’ I say, trying to pad my résumé. ‘Neither of their families have the patience to keep watering vegetables.’
Michael pauses and studies me. I went too far with the vegetable comment. He didn’t like it. He wrinkles his nose distastefully and shakes his head.
And that’s it. The interview is over. I’m going to die.
Dr Goodnight brings a tray over and puts it down on a short table between my gurney and Gina’s. On the tray are two rows of three syringes. He pulls the chair over to her side and picks up the first syringe in the top row. He watches Gina deliriously rolling her head back and forth on the pillow for a while. Then he injects the first syringe into her IV line.
Her eyes flick open.
‘Hi, Gina,’ he says.
She rolls her head to face him. After a moment, she seems to recognize him, and she starts pulling on her restraints, trying to get away.
‘I remember you,’ he tells her. ‘And it looks like you remember me.’
He picks up the second needle.
‘I never had any reason to come after you. You were smart. You were there when my son was born. You survived and got clean. You kept your mouth shut.’ He’s speaking fondly to her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Gina looks like she would strangle him if she could. ‘I’m wondering what changed.’
He injects the second needle into her IV.
‘Was it her?’ he asks, gesturing to me. ‘Did she get in your head somehow?’
Gina’s already bruised face turns red. It’s like fire is crawling under her skin. She bites down on her lips to keep from screaming, but I can see her back bending, her fists clenching, until finally a broken shriek comes out of her.
‘It’ll be over soon,’ says Dr Goodnight. ‘But first, tell me. Did this girl get in your head? She has a habit of doing that. She even got into my son’s head.’
He locks eyes with Gina, but she doesn’t answer him yes or no. Froth boils from between her lips. A clicking sound coughs out of her melting lungs. I don’t look away. She needs me to stand witness. I showed up, and I’m not leaving early. I lock eyes with her, and I give her whatever I have. It isn’t much. It isn’t enough. She’s still going to die, but I’ll be with her when she does.
‘I can make it end,’ he says, holding up the third syringe. ‘Just say yes. Tell me if Magda convinced you to come out here and play the hero.’
I nod to tell her it’s OK. I want her to take the easy way.
She works her jaw like she’s trying to speak. Dr Goodnight leans in close, and Gina spits on him. Before I can stop it, a shocked laugh flies out of me.
She smiles at me.
Dr Goodnight’s head snaps around at the sound, and black hatred fills his eyes. He turns back to Gina, jabs her IV with the third syringe, and her body locks up. Then it convulses over and over for what seems like forever.
And then it’s done.
Dr Goodnight turns to face me. The look on his face is clear. I’m next.
He never needed any information from Gina. He just wanted me to know what was coming for me. There was never an interview, although he wanted me to think I had a chance. I look at Gina. Tough old broad. He tortured her to scare me. It worked. I’m scared and I’m crying now, but I won’t beg because I’m not crying for me. I’m crying for Gina. She was probably the
best friend I’ve ever had. I didn’t know that until just now, but it doesn’t matter because nothing I can say or do is going to change how this is going to end.
It’s going to hurt. And he’s going to take his time.
‘Ha.’ I force myself to laugh. He doesn’t like it when people laugh at him. ‘She spat in your eye. Good for Gina.’
He turns around, holding up a syringe. ‘This won’t be very funny to you in a moment.’
‘You’re not going to let Rob do it?’ I ask. I narrow my eyes at him, smiling. ‘Or maybe you know he can’t?’
‘I’m doing my son the biggest favour of his life by killing you,’ he tells me as he flicks the syringe with his middle fingernail. ‘His obsession with you makes him vulnerable.’
‘He’ll hate you if you kill me, you know. Or maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe I managed to kill him after all.’
Michael Claybolt can’t give me the satisfaction of thinking I’ve won that. ‘You didn’t kill my son,’ he snaps. I’m actually getting under his skin.
‘Then where is he?’ I taunt. ‘He’s been obsessed with me for five years, and now he’s suspiciously absent at my death.’
Dr Goodnight leans in with a gleam in his eyes that tells me he knows he’s about to get the last laugh.
‘He doesn’t know I’ve got you. He’s on his way to Ray’s camp to catch you,’ he says. ‘And when you don’t show, he’ll kill all of them.’
Then he plunges the first needle into my IV.
I’m surfing flame.
You have to be very careful when you do that. The fire hurts, and you want to jump away, but you can’t because there are dark holes in between the fire. If you fall into one of those, you don’t come out. So I stay in the fire.
I crest a wave of pain and see . . .
White mounds. Sheets. Beyond that is my hand. I’m lying on my side, so I’m no longer tied down. I’m telling myself to run, but my body isn’t listening to me. I hear the clank of metal things being gathered together, and then the dunking sound of them being dropped into water. I can’t close my eyes. Then I see Dr Goodnight’s figure, but he’s blurry. I can’t even move the muscles in my eyes well enough to focus them, but I can smell. I smell bleach.
What She Found in the Woods Page 24