Chapter 53
Summer
Avery grows quiet and it’s unnerving, more than listening to his bizarre justifications earlier.
In the eerie light of his lantern I can make out the shapes of the tools he’s organizing on the table.
Knives, a small saw, pliers, and a few other sharp objects I don’t want to know exactly what they are—there’s just little doubt he plans to use them. On us.
He mutters to himself and once he seems to have everything arranged he stops to look at us, his face shadowy and ghoulish. His expression is thoughtful, calculating, definitely lucid. After a long beat, he finally says, “Here comes the hard part. Who do I kill first?”
I’m actually surprised by the nerves in his voice, and there’s a tremble in his fingers, because otherwise he’s disturbingly calm.
“My plan all along had been to kill you, Summer—to get back at your mother for exploiting our family and becoming rich and famous in the process. Think of the story that will make. Daughter of Gaskins Survivor Killed by Grandson.” His eyes light up for a moment but then shift to Shay, “But to be honest, I’ve never done this before, so practicing on someone else may be a good idea.
” He sighs. “It’s just a little less impactful.
I mean, you only get to have your first kill once.
I’ll be judged for it the rest of my life. ”
This commentary is surreal and it makes my skin prickle despite the ever-growing heat.
There’s no electricity in the camper, that much is obvious, and the musty, unused smell seems worse as the rising sun warms the metal top.
Sweat trickles down my back and is obvious on Shay’s forehead.
Avery wipes it off his neck, perspiration showing through his shirt.
I don’t know if it’s from the heat or the fact he’s about to dismember us in the camper. My brain swims.
He watches us closely for a moment and then nods to himself. “Yep, I know what I have to do.”
He takes a step forward. Shay sobs next to me. I fight back the rolling wave of emotion that’s trying to take me over. I’ve seen how this ends. The impact on the family—those close to the victim. The police photos. The trial.
The wavering has left his eyes and he yanks me off the floor.
“I choose you, Summer Barnes. You’ll be my first.”