Chapter 11 Ana
Ana
Life goes on.
Ana was hiding out behind the corner of the building.
She’d found a shady spot on the sidewalk and was sitting, knees hugged to her chest, on the edge of the curb.
A weed sprouted through cracks in the pavement, optimistically fighting for dominance over the man-made concrete; a small white flower on top danced happily in the breeze.
Life goes on.
The reception area door banged shut and footsteps clumped towards her hiding spot.
Raya plopped herself down next to Ana, puffing a little from the exertion.
Raya always sounded out of breath, like someone five times her age.
She rooted around in her pocket, pulling out a Zippo lighter with the letters RM etched into it.
Raya’s recent efforts to cut back on smoking had unlocked a new nervous habit. She flipped the lighter open and thumbed the flame to life before slamming it shut again. Fidgeting, over and over, on repeat.
Ana watched for a while in silence. Open, shut, flick, flick. Raya’s black thumbnail working the silver lighter vigorously. There was something soothing about it. Something reassuringly predictable.
“Raya, I’m sorry I ran out like that. I panicked. I’m fine now. I promise.”
“Come on, Ana. You don’t have to apologize. This whole situation is messed up.”
“I know. But still. I need to do better.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
Ana shook her head. How could she explain? How could she tell Raya that she was the only one who hadn’t been manipulated into coming here? That somehow Bates knew she would come? That he knew her?
Raya pulled out her phone and propped it up on her knee in front of them both. 9:50 a.m.
“Eight minutes to go.”
“I wonder why it’s 9:58 a.m.,” Ana said, changing the subject. “It’s so specific. It must mean something. Everything here is so carefully set up, so thought out.”
Raya shrugged.
“Maybe. Maybe not. I mean, Bates is clearly off his nuts. Perhaps it’s just a bunch of random crazy shit. Some strange idea in the warped brain of a freaky psychopath.”
Ana shook her head. None of this was random.
She was thinking back to a year ago; 9:58 a.m. didn’t mean anything to her.
It was just a regular morning at school.
It wasn’t until the evening that everything had changed.
She knew exactly where she would have been at 9:58 p.m. The hospital. The green-walled hallway. Waiting.
No. She shook her head again, harder. She couldn’t think about that now.
“What about the messages?” she said. “How are we getting messages when there’s no Wi-Fi or cell service?
I thought maybe Bluetooth, but it has a pretty short range, and it would need the same app on each device.
” Ana scratched her cheek thoughtfully. Raya just listened, without trying to keep up.
“What app would we have in common? The big ones—Snapchat, TikTok, Instagram? I mean, they’d be almost impossible to hack, right?
No, it would have to be something more basic.
But what? What would we all have in common? ”
“Oh, wait. That’s easy! I can answer that one.” Raya sat up. “Nada. Nothing. Zilch. I can promise you, hand on heart, that the only thing I have in common with Jade Clark is that we go to the same freaking school—unfortunately.”
Ana laughed outright.
“Raya, you’re brilliant.”
“I am?”
“Yes! That’s it. The school app. It has to be.
” Holding up her phone, Ana flicked through the screens until she saw it—the letters SFHS in green letters on a yellow background over the faint outline of a wolf’s head.
The St. Francis High student portal used the same font as the messages.
Bates was using the school app to send them messages.
“Of course! It makes perfect sense. Bates must have figured out how to hack into it!”
“Jesus, are you sure? He’s starting to sound less like a psycho and more like a freaking criminal mastermind.”
Raya had a point. If Ana’s theory was right, Bates must have serious tech skills or be rich and motivated enough to hire someone who did.
Whoever was behind this had built a meticulously-crafted trap, and they had walked right into the middle of their web.
But who? Who could possibly hate them enough to set all this up and lure them here?
Who could know about her, about all of them?
Ana felt a dark stirring of anxiety. She put her phone down and wrapped her arms around her knees. Things just kept getting worse.
Raya must have picked up on Ana’s mood. She nudged her gently with her shoulder.
“So how do you think this works? We get to 9:58 a.m. and the sky falls in on us? Or maybe some rando YouTube prankster paraglides into the pool with a suitcase of money?”
“I hope he knows it’s empty.”
They both grinned and looked out across the desolate landscape. The mountains seemed to change color constantly. Right now, they were almost blue, merging into the sky. They seemed further away than they had yesterday, now that the white line lay starkly between them.
“Well, whatever happens, I really hope it involves food. I’m so hungry.” Raya resumed her fidgeting, taking out her hangry thoughts on the little lighter. Flick, flick, flick.
Ana sat forward, reaching her fingers out to the tiny flower—gently, almost tenderly touching the delicate white petals. The flower could survive against impossible odds. So could they.
“Raya.” Ana paused, trying to find the right words. “I know I’ve been…distant this past year. I’m so sorry. Really, I am. I just…I couldn’t…”
Raya reached over and took Ana’s hand.
“Again, you don’t have to apologize, doofus. You know I love you, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I love you too,” Ana said quietly. There was love and there was love. What they shared fell between the two. Ana felt tears in her eyes. “I want you to know that whatever comes next, I won’t let you down. I promise. I will do whatever it takes to keep you and Alex safe…”
Raya pulled her hand away and turned to face the desert, her short hair falling across her face.
“It must be time.” There was a sharp edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before.
Ana looked at the screen: 9:57 a.m. She held her breath.
Whatever was about to happen next was inevitable. Time was moving them towards their destiny—good or bad. They could only bear witness. They both watched in silence.
It seemed to take forever, and then suddenly, there it was.
The lock screen disappeared and a black screen with green numbers took its place. The numbers were counting down, the seconds racing backward.
59:59
It was at once terrifying and yet anticlimactic. No great bells and whistles, but real at the same time. The countdown had begun. The game had started. They had an hour before one of them had to cross the line.
Without saying a word, they both stood and turned to walk back to the reception area, back to face whatever came next.
At the corner, Ana paused on a whim. She turned to look at the curb, the crack, seeking out the little flower, the small hopeful survivor.
But it was gone, crushed under Raya’s Docs.
A few matted petals remained, ground into the concrete, its small, plucky fight for survival ended in one moment. Dead.
Despite the heat, Ana shivered.