Chapter Twenty-Two Evie
Chapter Twenty-Two
Evie
We’ve been driving for hours past the location I’ve been spending all my time lately. Hours through pitch black and into sunrise. But it’s hard to make out where we are, sitting in the back seat and looking out the window, because all the land in the middle of nowhere in California looks the same.
It’s just dirt, speckled with trees and cacti. I haven’t seen a landmark or building for miles. And a part of me is scared to death we’ve been sent on a wild goose chase.
But what was the alternative?
There is none. Because it feels like someone’s set a clock, and it’s ticking down, and we don’t know how much time is left.
“Where the fuck are we going?” Noah mutters to himself, checking the directions he has connected to the car again.
My eyes stay trained out the window, looking for something to make this drive make sense.
But all I keep getting are flashes of memories with Chase—us in the kitchen, him dancing around .
. . that day at the farmers’ market when I think I knew somewhere in the back of my head that I was going to fall for him.
He shakes his head, so onto me, and raises his voice. “Hell has frozen over. She wants to talk about me, everyone.”
“Shut up,” I rush out, reaching up to cover his mouth, but he grabs my wrist, lowering my arm gently.
“Sue me. I’m fascinated. I kind of always thought you were a rich-boy douchebag whose only saving grace was that he wasn’t an elitist. But it turns out you’re a nonelitist rich-boy douchebag who speaks three, almost four languages and saved your grandma from a fire . . . that you started.”
The way he laughs is like an explosion. It’s loud and intrusive, but if he was a wine, he’d be a really expensive bottle with a bold flavor.
And I can’t help myself—I pull out my phone and take his picture. When he looks at me, I shrug and say, “Proof of life . . . for our guardians.”
I shake my head, making the thoughts go away because I’m acting like he’s gone. I don’t mean to, but that’s how fucking scared I am that we’re too late. That he’s . . . Don’t think it. He’s not.
“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Goldie whispers, giving me a reason to focus on something else.
Noah lets out a frustrated groan, gripping the steering wheel too hard.
“Yeah, I’m following the directions. But what the fuck is all the way out here?”
He’s not mad at my sister; he’s feeling exactly what we all are—scared. Because we don’t know what’s going to happen.
What I do know is the further we drive, the bigger the pit in my stomach grows.
But I need to stay positive. Not let fear get the best of me.
Chase is alive, and we’re bringing him home.
I close my eyes, this time trying to picture him in my mind, him smiling at me the way he always does, because it’s always the thing that keeps me calm.
“Have the police messaged or said anything?” I ask Goldie, already knowing the answer because I asked the same question an hour ago.
I open my eyes, watching her check her voicemail anyway, then shake her head. Noah was smart to pass on Eddie’s info, along with Remus’s photo, leaving them with Goldie’s number. Just in case he gets any more texts.
I take a deep breath, my eyes drifting back out the window, when a half-collapsed shed catches my eye off in the distance. I stare at it, my head following it as we pass by, before I immediately look out the other side to a section of high desert that’s more lush.
Way more. Oh my god.
“You guys . . .” I whisper, but I’m ignored.
“We have to make a left here,” Noah says over me and begins slowing down.
I know this place. Fuck.
The moment he turns, the tires hit gravel, and my heart stops beating. I know exactly where we are, and I’m the only one, just me.
“Oh my god, is this . . .” Goldie breathes out, not finishing what she’s saying, but she doesn’t have to because the answer is yes.
The car pulls to a complete stop as nausea roils through me. I never wanted to come back here.
Noah and Goldie stare forward, their eyes tipped up, staring at what I already know is there. And still, my hands grip the backs of the seats as I scoot to the edge of the leather, eyes locked on the same thing—the Camp Weonoke sign.
It’s still arched, standing tall, marking the replicated entrance to the place that lives in all our nightmares.
My voice comes out as barely a whisper. “He’s brought us back to where it all began.”
Nobody says a word. Maybe out of fear or rage. But either way, we all know our worst nightmares are about to be relived.
Noah restarts the car and puts it back in drive before we slowly roll under the sign, only the sound of the gravel echoing around us.
I try not to look at the tagline, Adventure Awaits, because there’s nothing about this adventure that I’m looking forward to other than getting my goddamn boyfriend back.
“This is fucking sadistic,” Goldie breathes out.
I can hear how scared she is. Same.
The thing about this set is it’s one of those locations that, from the outside driving by, looks like some kind of desert oasis with a spot of tall trees that make it impossible to see in.
Because of that, it’s dark inside . . . which is why production rented it.
The lighting always made it look like nighttime.
On cue, the sunlight begins to fade, becoming sporadic streaks through the trees until it becomes night. But not real night—the kind of set with movie lighting. It’s on and illuminating our way.
What the fuck.
The tension inside the car is so thick you’d need a chainsaw to get through it.
“We just need to focus and keep our eye on the prize,” Noah says, feeling it, too, as we pull onto the set.
I look down, noticing my hands slightly trembling, so I make fists and flex them. No way. I will not panic. I will not lose it.
“I know it said no cops, but . . .” he adds, my sister and I jumping on him at the same time.
“No!”
He holds up a hand just as we begin to drive through the middle of the camp.
“Oh god,” Goldie whispers. “I never wanted to come here. I avoided it at all costs.”
I can’t help myself. I’m looking out the window. A weird array of mixed memories begins popping up, some from when I was working and others from real life.
My tongue darts out over my dry lips as I blink a few times, realizing I’m staring at nothing, losing myself to my thoughts.
“I can’t believe you worked on this, Evie,” she whispers to me.
“People do crazy shit in the name of trauma . . . Let’s just be glad I didn’t write a movie about it.”
A burst of laughter rips from her chest before she catches herself. I touch her shoulder, and she squeezes my hand. If there’s one thing we never lose, it’s our uncanny ability to wallow in dark humor.
Noah drives all the way to the far end, parking next to the cabin that was built as the duplicate for my and Goldie’s original one.
He puts the car in park before killing the engine, not looking at us as he says, “All I was saying is that if we find him, we should call the cops while we’re here. Not wait until we split.”
Goldie shifts in her seat, looking back at me, and we telepathically, eyebrows raised while shrugging, weigh it out before we nod and agree.
“The problem is,” I say quietly, feeling like I should. “We have to find him. And I don’t know about you guys, but I have no idea what the fuck to expect. I mean, we’re literally back to the future.”
“Do we just get out?” Goldie throws out, looking around before she looks between me and Noah. But none of us are sure.
“Remus is really bad at this villain shit,” I say back.
Noah’s door cracks open first, so Goldie and I immediately follow, sliding out and taking careful steps away from the car.
We’re each looking around, on high alert, trying to expect the unexpected. But for some reason, I’m getting angrier by the second. Because we’re being toyed with like this is a game.
I can feel it.
And if my gut feelings are good enough for Chase to believe and fire someone over, then they’re good enough for me. I shake my head.
“Something’s weird. It feels like we’re being watched, but for what? Why bring us all the way out here for nothing?”
I walk out into the middle of the dirt road, cupping my hands over my mouth and yelling, “Where are you, you little fuck? Because we showed up.”
Goldie rushes me, jerking my hands down. “What are you doing? He could be anywhere.”
“He knows we’re coming. And no, he couldn’t be anywhere,” I snap, pushing past her and heading toward one of the cabin doors before I raise my foot and kick it like I’m trying to break it down.
It doesn’t move.
“Nothing’s real here. I know . . . remember. This is a mind game. He’s fucking with us, like a cat with a mouse.”
“Or a rat . . .” Noah offers.
“Yeah,” I throw back. “Let’s not turn up dead on someone’s mattress. Deal?”
He nods, joining me. “If there’s only a few places he could be, that means we just need to check them one by one. Because Chase has to be here, right?”
I don’t answer because I don’t know anymore. The thing none of us wants to think or even say is that maybe this is where we die too. Not where we find Chase.
“Where should we start?” Goldie aims the question at me, reaching for my hand as she walks toward me, but the sound of static fills the air.
Our heads lift as we all freeze.
It’s the kind that happens when you turn on an intercom system, like the one used to greet campers. We’re eyes up toward the sky as deep, mangled words mixed with a demonic melody begins to play.
Almost like someone’s turning a record backward slowly.
It drifts over the camp, haunting and foreboding, making goose bumps explode over my arms, before it begins to speed up and suddenly play normally.
“What the fuck?” Noah rushes out as he steps toward Goldie.
But I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience.