Chapter 23 Ana
Ana
Ana sat on the burning hot ground in front of the bus, her knees hugged to her chest; the sockets where the headlights had once been glared out blindly on either side of her.
She kept her eyes down, away from the white line, away from the trail that Caden’s army boots had left when the two men had dragged his body away.
There had been a moment, one brief moment, when she had been tempted to make a desperate run for the red truck.
Caden’s body had fallen so close to the line, the truck was maybe twenty feet away at most. But clearly she wasn’t the only one aware of the danger.
One of the cowboys set himself up behind the open truck door with a rifle pointed at them, an ominous red dot making its way across them.
The message was clear. You run. You die.
The others had left, desperate to get away from the scene of the crime, disappearing off to their separate corners of the motel. She’d needed to be alone, just for a precious minute, before facing the next hour and whatever horrors it would inevitably bring.
The wind gently danced around her, stirring her dark hair, mocking her with its playfulness. She knew it was her fault Caden had died. She accepted responsibility for her part in sending him across the line. There was blood on her hands, again.
But she didn’t feel a thing.
Nothing.
It was as though her emotions had shut down and left a numb emptiness in her core.
Something inside her was blocking her thoughts from going too deep, too dark.
The turning of the final card, Caden’s bloodshot eyes, his body spread-eagled in the dirt; nothing was registering.
Nothing other than her relief that Alex was safe.
Something tapped against her foot, pulling her reluctantly back to the present. She looked down.
A small pink square, caught in the wind, had blown up against her trainer. The final coaster—the final vote.
As she watched, the wind tauntingly whipped it up, carrying it into the shadows under the bus. It flipped over, burying Caden’s name deep in dust. The faded pink rose on the card rested on top, like a dead flower on a grave.
She reached under the bus and softly, almost tenderly, picked up the coaster.
Gently she blew on it to clear the dust off Caden’s name. The letters were crude, almost childlike and barely legible—it was Caden’s writing. It had to be. Jesus. He was so out of it he’d voted for himself. He hadn’t understood what the vote was for, he had just wanted to win.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I won’t forget.”
Taking a deep breath, she slipped the coaster into her back pocket.
That was when she saw it. The smallest thing.
A flash of bright red in the shadows, deep under the bus.
Ana squinted, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness, to make out the source.
But the contrast was too strong. She pushed herself forward on her hands and knees, crawling under the burned metal frame.
The stench of gas was overwhelming. The ashy liquid had seeped through the floor of the bus and was dripping on top of her, down her neck. She almost turned back. Almost.
Her eyes adjusted and, at last, she could make out a corner of something red and plastic, buried under an old tarp. She dragged herself the last few feet and pulled the tarp back, revealing a gas can lying on its side. Behind it, she could see several more cans, lids open, all empty.
Her first thought was that she had found the source of the gas leak. But it didn’t make any sense. How could the cans have survived the explosion? It wasn’t possible. The heat would have melted the plastic in an instant, even if they were empty.
Slowly, another thought made its way through the fog in her head. It was obvious, wasn’t it? The cans had been moved here after the explosion, after the fire.
Fuck. Ana backed out from under the bus as fast as she could and jumped to her feet.
All senses were functioning now. This wasn’t a gas leak or an accident. Someone had poured gas over the bus deliberately. Then they had hidden the empty cans here so they wouldn’t get caught. Which could only mean one thing.
Someone had sabotaged the shelter.
***
45:38
“This proves it. I was right—Bates is here! He’s inside the circle and he’s sneaking around while our backs are turned, doing whatever the hell he wants to stop us from getting out of here.
” Ana was pacing up and down the patio outside her room with barely contained excitement.
She’d been talking non-stop since she’d arrived—about the gas cans, the cleaned microphone, Bluetooth.
How it all fit together, it all made sense.
Raya was sitting at one end of a concrete curb, her head buried in her folded arms. Alex was standing in the shade, back against the wall, hands in pockets. No one wanted to go inside—not after Ana told them about the mysteriously repaired microphone.
“So, what do we do now?” Alex peered at her through a curtain of hair. He looked worn—exhausted.
“There are only a handful of places where someone can hide. We already searched all the motel buildings and the sheds. The one place we didn’t look was in the outbuildings.
Bates has got to be lurking in there somewhere, or maybe there’s an entrance to a bunker or some underground tunnels, or…
I don’t know.” She was talking too fast, barely pausing to breathe.
“We’ll split up. Two of us can search the outbuildings, while the other one can stay out here and keep a lookout—maybe on the roof?
They can keep an eye on Team Ellis and watch for signs of Bates sneaking around, now that we know he’s here.
” The gas can discovery had kicked off that dangerous feeling inside her again—hope; now that it was out of the box, she just couldn’t put it back in.
“What do we do if we find him?” Alex asked, frowning.
“Look, I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. But I know one thing—Bates knows us. He knows all our worst secrets. Somehow, in some way, he has to be close to us or connected. If we can find him, just get to him, we can figure this out. I know it.”
Alex nodded and chewed on his lip. Raya didn’t speak or move. Ana felt a wave of frustration.
“Guys, this is our chance to get out of here. Our first real chance. If we figure out where Bates is hiding, then he’s not untouchable anymore.
We can stop him.” Why weren’t they more excited?
“We can’t just ignore this! We have to try.
Otherwise, we might as well just give up and line up for our turn on the red truck. ”
“Don’t say that!” Raya shouted, speaking for the first time since Ana had arrived. Her black-ringed eyes had a hollowed-out, empty expression.
“I’m sorry, Raya. I’m just trying to…”
“How can you even stand here and talk like that? Planning and…and…going on like this is all a game? Caden is dead. He was murdered in front of us. I voted for him. And you—you lied to his face, Ana. You told him he’d be okay.
How could you do that?” Raya turned away.
“You’re just like him, you know? You’re just like Ellis. ”
The words were out there in the hot, dry air. Ana closed her eyes.
Maybe she was more like Ellis than she wanted to admit.
Caden had just died in front of her, but she was already thinking about the next hour and how to survive.
There was a disconnect. The reality, the horror, wasn’t fully sinking in.
It was stopping at a level, blocked from going deeper by the numbness.
Maybe Raya was right. Something was wrong with her and Ellis—they’d already broken.
“It’s not Ana’s fault,” Alex said. He shuffled uncomfortably.
“Right. Step in and defend her,” Raya snapped. “Caden didn’t deserve that. He didn’t…” Raya stopped. No tears. Just raw grief. She buried her head in her hands and turned away from them, again.
There was truth in Raya’s words, even if it was tied up in pain and shock.
She hadn’t been at school a year ago. She’d gone to hang out at the mall.
The first she heard of the fire was when the sirens started wailing past, one after another.
This was her first time on the front lines.
She had to do what she had to do to get through this moment, to get through this day. Ana got it.
“Alex, can you give us a minute?”
There was no point in talking with Alex present. Raya and Alex barely knew each other, and at least from Raya’s side, there had never been any love lost. Alex nodded, looking relieved.
“I’ll wait by the outbuildings,” he said. “Don’t take too long, okay?” He touched Ana’s arm and walked away.
Ana sat down on the other end of the curb.
She felt a pull inside as she looked across at her friend.
Suffering. It had been such a part of both their lives.
The time they were dating seemed like a million years ago.
Such a stupidly innocent moment, with nothing to think about other than crushes and band gigs, all the regular teenage stuff she had put behind her.
She would have given anything to go back to those days. To be lying on her lumpy old bed, Raya’s head in her lap, listening to their old, thrifted vinyls. Laughing and gossiping, nowhere to go, nothing to do.
As though she’d heard her thoughts, Raya shook her head and wiped her sleeve across her face hard, turning to look out across the harsh red streaks of desert stretching all around them.
When she spoke, her voice sounded flat and lifeless.
“I’m sorry, Ana. I didn’t mean what I said…”
“It’s okay.” Ana took a deep breath. There was something she needed to say to Raya, something that had been worrying her for hours, but she dreaded bringing it up. It felt invasive and wrong, but it had to come out, one way or another. Before it was too late.