Dead of Summer

Chapter 47

My first half coherent thought is that the third time is definitely the charm, and in the worst way imaginable.

My second thought is asking the universe how the hell I’m still alive. I definitely remember the blackness spreading, taking my consciousness with it. And I absolutely remember the pain in my lungs from breathing in river water.

Yet all I have now is a dull ache in my chest, and a weariness that’s sitting bone-deep. If I’m dead, then I want a refund. Dead people definitely shouldn’t feel pain.

Nor should they be hearing the crackle of a campfire from nearby, or feel the warmth of it wash against them.

“So.” The cheerful voice is unfamiliar, but I’m not quite to the point of opening my eyes just yet. I’m still busy marveling over still being alive and trying to remember what had happened.

Oh, right. It clicks into place and jerks me back into consciousness.

Shawn had tried to fucking kill me. And for some reason, hadn’t succeeded, though I don’t think I can take credit for it.

Curiosity has me opening my eyes more than anything, and my vision flickers, blurry, as I blink to clear it.

“You seem to be having a bad week.” Grey sits across from me, on the other side of a campfire that sends sparks fluttering into the air. It occurs to me that it’s significantly later in the day than I thought it would be, and I sit up with a groan. “Is it common for camp counselors to try to drown each other?”

I don’t answer him right away. I move my hands, then my feet, and notice belatedly that my clothes are mostly dry. My back hurts from hitting the rocks, so I’m sure I’m bruised to hell and back, and my throat stings when I swallow.

But I’m alive.

“You know, not in my experience,” I croak, voice hoarse. Frowning, I rub the base of my throat and drag my legs up under me, not hiding the fact that I’m studying him. “But I guess things change, and there’s a first time for everything, huh?” I’m still playing the last few minutes I can remember over and over in my head, and I glance up at the sky with worry. “How long have I been out?”

“Well, after I pulled you out of the river and got the water out of your lungs, you woke up for a few seconds. I figured then you weren’t brain damaged,” Grey explains, meeting my look with that shit-eating grin. “Then you kind of faded back out. But you were snoring, so I figured you needed the rest and you weren’t, like, bleeding into your brain or something.” He’s so strangely casual about this that I can’t quite figure out how to respond.

“You saved me.” It’s not a question, but I can’t keep the surprise out of my voice. “Why save me? You’re like Kayde, right?”

At his quizzical glance, I duck my head in embarrassment and mutter, “A murderer.”

“Oh, well, yeah?” He blinks up at the sky. “Anyway, it’s almost eight. In case you were wondering. And just because I’m a murderer doesn’t mean I’m an awful person. Not to mention one who likes being alive. I don’t want your boyfriend to hear about you drowning and come after me for it. Fuck all knows your camp counselor ‘friend’ is also going to blame me.”

Of course he will.

And Kayde could very well believe him.

“I can’t believe Shawn tried to drown me,” I mutter, though the shock isn’t as strong as perhaps it should be. My feet scrape against the dirt of the small clearing, and I drag my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I’m exhausted and worn out, but this is nothing compared to how much it had hurt back in the river.

Clearly, I’m never going near water again. At least, not outside of a mug of tea or a shower. “What happened to Shawn?” I ask, realizing a bit late that it’s probably important. “Did you kill him?” I wouldn’t be upset if he had, but Grey shakes his head.

“No. Sorry, Summer.” It still makes me feel weird that he knows my name, even though I’d never told him. “I figured I needed to choose between killing him and saving you, and saving you seemed better for me in the long run.” He picks up a large stick to poke at the fire, making it pop and crackle between us.

But I’m too tired to say anything. With my head on my knees, I watch the flames, hating that I’m so close to dozing back off again. Not that I can really fight it. Drowsiness drags at me, pulling my eyelids down until I can feel myself slipping back into a light sleep.

“So, what are you going to do?” Grey’s voice pulls me out of it, and I manage to shake off some of the sleepiness to hum in confusion at his question. “You very clearly have a problem.” He runs the stick between his hands, eyes finding mine over the fire. “A pretty violent one. He took my stuff out of your cabin, you know,” Grey adds, surprising me.

“How did—” I break off, unsure of what to ask. “How do you know that?”

But Grey just grins slyly at me. “I watch him when he’s in the woods. You know he pushed her, right?”

The words chill me to the bone, but I stare at him, refusing to let my mind continue with that thought. “Pushed who?” The words come out of numb lips, because I already know what he’s going to say.

“That little girl yesterday. He showed her where the trail was and followed her. She didn’t realize it, and when she got to the cliff, he pushed her.” Grey’s eyes glitter, and he watches my face as horror courses through me. “You’ve got a killer on your hands. Or at least, someone who wants to become one. He’s not like your Kayde, and he isn’t like me, either. He’s fucked up.”

“As if other serial killers aren’t?” I can’t help but quip, eyes narrowed. “You certainly seem like a shining example of positive mental health.”

Grey giggles at that. “Maybe I’m not, but I’m also not setting traps for kids and counselors so I can kill them,” he reminds me. And, okay, he definitely has a point.

“He really tried to kill me,” I mutter, the silence between us breaking. “Like, he tried to kill me.”

“He did,” Grey agrees. “So what are you going to do about it?”

I open my mouth to answer, though my brain isn’t exactly sure of what’s going to come out of my mouth when Grey’s face changes. He rises to his feet, looking somewhere over my shoulder, and lifts his hands to show that they’re empty.

“I’d definitely prefer you talk to her and have her tell you I did not try to drown her, Kayde,” Grey states, looking serious for the first time since I’ve met him.

Kayde? I whirl around on my knees, mouth falling when I see Kayde standing behind me, at the edge of the clearing, with his head cocked and a blade in his hand. He doesn’t spare a look for me, however. His shrewd, predatory gaze is all for Grey.

“Funny,” Kayde murmurs, his grip on the knife white-knuckled. “That’s not what Shawn said. According to him, Summer was pushed into the river by some maniac and held under. According to him…” He looks down at me, and for just a moment, his eyes widen and he looks so vulnerable.

“You’re dead.”

“Well, I’m sure he wants me to be.” I get to my feet, my legs trembling as I slowly work my way up. “Since he was the one who—” All I see is a flurry of movement before I’m wrapped up in Kayde’s arms, his muscles like bands of iron around my body.

“Fuck,” Kayde exhales, and takes a breath against my still-damp hair. “I really thought…” There’s a shaky note in his voice, and I glance up at him in surprise to find a mix of rage and relief on his face. “I’m so sorry, Summer,” Kayde murmurs, reaching up to tuck my hair back from my face. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“Are you satisfied I haven’t done anything?” Grey asks, a little snappy. “Can I sit now without fear of you pushing my face into the fire”

Kayde turns his cold gaze on Grey, lips twitching. “Sure,” he invites flatly. “So long as you stay on your side of the fire.” When I shift my weight uncomfortably, Kayde pulls me back down to the ground, sitting with me in his lap and my back pressed to his chest.

He’s so warm. I can’t help but lean back against him, my eyes closing once again. They talk over me, with Grey explaining what happened and what he’d done about it.

But I can’t stop thinking about the question Grey’d asked me

What am I going to do about it?

My fingers clench in the fabric of Kayde’s shirt, and a buzzing anger sets my bones to shivering under my skin. Some of the ache is chased away by the rage, and when I open my eyes, it’s to watch embers shoot frenetically into the darkening sky.

“So what are you still doing here?” My words cut Grey off, and he looks at me quizzically, like I’ve just asked a stupid as hell question. “I’m grateful,” I assure him. “But you told me you’re not here to do anything that will have Kayde breathing down your neck. So what are you doing here?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” He unsheathes a knife and runs his finger along the blade absently, eyes fixed on the dull grey sheen of the metal. “I’m just here to watch. As soon as I realized the problem you’re having, I thought it would be interesting to see how it ended up. Too bad you two were so busy chasing me you didn’t see what he was doing, don’t you think? He’s gone into town for hunting supplies twice now, first of all. And he walks the woods at night. He’s tried following you.” His gaze slides to Kayde. “But he’s never succeeded.”

Kayde’s eyes narrow in surprise, and a flicker of confusion crosses his face. “Following me?” he repeats. “No, I don’t think that’s true. I would’ve noticed if he was.”

“You don’t notice anything when you’re following her,” Grey argues sweetly. “You didn’t notice me for a long time that night we met. And you haven’t noticed him either. Which is kind of pathetic, since you’re a lot better at this game than him.”

This isn’t a game, I want to remind them, but I can barely focus on anything more than Shawn.

“So you’ll leave now?” Kayde asks, his attention never leaving Grey. “You’ve gotten what you wanted, right?”

“Mostly. I’d still like to see how this ends,” Grey admits. “I’ll leave in the morning, your majesty. Never to be seen again.” But he smiles on the words, like there’s an inside joke I’m missing.

“What were you even doing here?” I can’t help but ask the question, and I lean forward as much as Kayde will allow. I want to grab onto Kayde and never let go; to break down and have him tell me it’s okay, that he’ll take care of everything.

I want to watch him hurt Shawn.

But I refuse to let those thoughts do more than whisper in my brain before pushing them away, a frown touching my lips. “Why Camp Crestview?”

“Well, I don’t kill kids, if that’s what you’re implying,” Grey is quick to tell me, holding one hand up in half-surrender. “That’s never what I was here for. Actually, I wouldn’t have stopped here at all if not for him.” He nods at Kayde, who shifts behind me. “He’s kind of famous, you know. To some of us. A bus crash turning someone into a serial killer?” Grey shakes his head. “There are bets about whether he’d killed someone before the accident, or the crash just fucked him up in the head.”

“And which side are you on?” Kayde murmurs, amusement tinging his tone.

Grey’s grin widens. “That you were born fucked up, just like me. And just like your little camper, who’s so fond of you both.”

That has my head snapping up, eyes wide. “You mean Melody.” It isn’t a question, though the words leave me discomforted all the same. “You both think she’s, what, some kind of monster? But how in the world can you know that, when she’s twelve?”

They share a look that I feel completely left out of, before Grey tilts his head to the side once more, thoughtful. “Like recognizes like,” he shrugs finally. “I’ve seen the way she looks at some of the boys. She’s going to grow up to be some kind of black widow. Mark my words. And have you not seen the way she manipulates everyone?”

“She’s…a good leader. She’s just mature and well spoken,” I argue, the words automatic. But deep down, I know it’s more than that.

And maybe I’ve always known.

“She’s a sociopath like him,” Grey nods at Kayde. “Don’t be na?ve, Summer. It’s not a good look on someone dating a killer.”

“Aren’t you a sociopath too?” It’s the curiosity that makes me ask, though I’m not so sure I want to know.

“He’s a psychopath,” Kayde mutters. “Not a sociopath like me. Narcissistic, or sadistic?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” But Grey preens under Kayde’s words as if they’re the highest form of praise. “Try not to ruin her or change her, okay? I like her. She’s going to grow up to be an absolute monster.”

“How would you know?” Something occurs to me, and I close my eyes hard. “Please tell me Melody hasn’t talked to you.”

“We met a few mornings ago,” Grey is eager to tell me. “She knows what I am. As I said, Summer. Like recognizes like. She knows what she is. What we are.” He gestures to Kayde, then himself. “Maybe if you’re not fast enough, she’ll kill Shawn herself. What is she, twelve?” he squints, thinking. “Yeah, that’s a good age for your first murder?—”

“Stop talking about Mel.” I can’t handle it. There’s no way I can even fathom her killing someone, when it’s not just a joke in my own head. “Or I’m going to, I don’t know, spontaneously combust?”

The two of them trade another look that I don’t love, before Kayde sighs and presses his face against my neck. “Kins and Liza are worried sick,” he murmurs. “They’re out looking for you as well, since they don’t believe Shawn. He said he was calling Fink and the police, but…” Kayde glances up at the sky. “Somehow, I have a feeling that’s not quite true.”

Before I can come up with a reply, my pocket vibrates. Surprised, I pull my phone out of my shorts to look at the newly cracked screen filled with missed texts, calls, and voicemails. “Well, at least it still works,” I mumble, noticing the new text is from a number I don’t have saved. I’m just shocked my phone is still alive, even if the crack is bad enough to spider web across the front and cause me to be careful when I slide my fingers across the glass. I’ll definitely need a new one, as I’m not so convinced there’s not any water rattling around inside the phone waiting to make a nefarious move.

The text contains a picture, and the lungful of oxygen I inhale nearly chokes me as I look at it more closely.

Kinsley lies against a tree, blood trickling from her temple and her face slack. Another text comes in as I try to relearn how to breathe, and it certainly doesn’t help.

Tell anyone and she’s dead. No cops, no Fink. Just us.

“Fuck,” I whisper, my hands shaking. “Fuck!” I jump to my feet, breaking free of Kayde’s hold and nearly falling. “Kayde!” I whirl on him as he stands, holding the phone out to him with quick, jerky motions. Grey doesn’t move. He just watches us from the ground, fingers still trailing over the short hunting knife in his hands.

“Damn it.” Kayde curses softly. “Okay. Do you have any idea where this is?”

“Umm…” I look at the picture again, trying to identify the surroundings of it. “Back near camp, I think? That looks like one of the cabins.” I gesture toward a few logs I can see peeking between two of the trees in the picture.

“All right. Stay with me, Summer. Do you understand?” I’m already nodding, and I grimace at the pain in my legs from the scrapes and abrasions courtesy of Shawn and the river.

“I guess he’s doing something awful, huh?” Grey doesn’t sound worried or upset like I am. But why should he be? He has nothing to lose. But when I look at him again, he’s on his feet, and Kayde only stalks away with a mutter and a shake of his head.

“So what are you going to do, Summer?” Grey asks, his voice quiet enough that I know Kayde doesn’t hear him. His grin widens, slashing across his lips. “Are you going to let him keep spiraling? He’s going to kill someone tonight, you know. He won’t be able to help himself.”

The words cause something to click into place inside of me, and when he holds the now-sheathed blade out to me, I barely hesitate.

I take the knife in my hand and shove it into the back of my shorts, eyes never leaving his. “No, he won’t,” I promise in a whisper. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

And that, it seems, is the answer Grey has been waiting for all along. His eyes flicker with a cruel, wicked light that reminds me of Kayde, and I see in him the same monster hiding under Kayde’s smiles and friendly facade. “I look forward to seeing what you do to him,” he tells me, and steps back with a small, mock salute.

“And how many pieces the two of you leave him in.”