Chapter 22
For a long, stretched-out moment, no one made a sound.
It was like the blast had knocked the noise clean out of us.
People just stood there, frozen where they were, staring at the river as if their brains were still trying to catch up to what their eyes had just seen.
A few mouths hung slightly open, breaths shallow and uneven, but nothing came out.
No shouting. No running. Just this unnatural stillness, like if we didn’t move, didn’t react, we could somehow pretend it hadn’t actually happened.
Smoke curled up from the river where the raft had been, the water still churning. My gaze stayed fixed on the empty space, trying to force Logan back into existence.
A sound tore through the haze. Someone was finally screaming.
It took me a second to realize it wasn’t just one person. It was overlapping, jagged, breaking in different places.
“Logan?”
I didn’t know who said it. The name drifted out over the water, like he might still answer if we just gave him a second.
A few people edged forward, peering into the river like they expected to see him surface at any second now.
But there was nothing. Just ripples and bits of debris turning lazily in the current.
“What the fuck was that?” someone demanded, voice cracking. “What happened?”
“He’s in the water,” another voice insisted. “He has to be. He just got thrown off when it blew up.”
But even as they said it, I could tell they didn’t believe it. Because there was nowhere Logan could’ve gone. No shape beneath the surface. No sign of someone fighting to come up for air. The river just kept moving, carrying everything away like it meant nothing.
My stomach lurched.
“It was another trap,” Jesse said in a low voice. “The killer probably set it up days ago, in case anyone managed to repair one of the kayaks.”
“That was our last chance,” April said, voice hitching. “If we can’t even use the river… there’s really no way out.”
Silence reigned for another moment. Then a sharp, breathless laugh cut through it.
My head snapped to the side. Grace was standing a few feet back from the riverbank, her hands half-raised like she didn’t know what to do with them, eyes wide and glassy. Another laugh spilled out of her, louder this time.
“Oh my god,” she gasped, shaking her head, a grin stretching too wide across her face. “Oh my god, I told you. I told you—”
“Grace,” Maren said, voice tight. “Hey. Stop.”
But she didn’t.
“I fucking told you!” she shrieked, the words snapping into something wild and hysterical. “I told you we’re all going to die here! Every single one of us!”
Her voice cracked on the last word, breaking into another burst of laughter that sounded dangerously close to sobbing. A ripple moved through the group, people stepping back from her now instead of the river, like she was the thing that might explode next.
Sutton finally took a step forward, grabbed her by the shoulders, and roughly shook her. “Stop it!” she shouted in her face. “Fucking stop!”
Grace’s laughter cut off mid-breath, like something had snapped inside her. For a second she just stared at Sutton, chest heaving, eyes still too wide.
“We’re all going to die here,” she finally said. “You know I’m right.”
Sutton’s grip loosened slightly. “We’re not going to die,” she said, though it sounded more like something she was trying to convince herself of rather than Grace. “We’re going to make it out of here.”
A painfully long moment of silence followed. No one moved or spoke.
“Okay, guys.” Caitlin’s voice finally cut through the air, rough but steady.
All eyes shifted to her.
She dragged a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face like she was physically forcing herself to focus. “We can’t just stand here,” she said. “We’ve still got, what, at least an hour before it starts getting dark?”
A few people nodded listlessly.
“Right now we’re all covered in sweat, river water, and…” She glanced toward the river briefly, jaw tightening. “God knows what else. So we need to get cleaned up. Clear our heads.”
A few people shifted uncomfortably, looking down at themselves like they were only just registering their dirty clothes and grimy skin.
“We go in groups,” she continued. “Girls together, guys together. In and out as fast as possible.”
“No one should ever be alone, even in the bathroom,” Jesse added. “Everyone can pair up and share a shower cubicle.”
Caitlin nodded. “After that, we grab everything from the cabins. Blankets, pillows, mattresses. We’re all sleeping in the assembly hall again tonight, so we should make it as comfortable as we can. It’s the least we can do at this point.”
For a second, no one moved. Then, slowly, people started nodding.
Jasmine’s hand brushed mine. “Come on,” she murmured.
I nodded, forcing my legs to move.
By the time we all made it back to the assembly hall, the light outside had started to dim. No one said much as we got to work.
Mattresses were dragged across the floor with dull thuds, blankets were bundled in armfuls, and pillows were tossed into uneven piles. I focused on the physicality of it all. Lift. Carry. Drop. Repeat.
Anything to keep my mind from drifting back to the river.
Jasmine and I wrestled one of the thinner mattresses into place near the far wall, nudging it flush against another to close the gap. Nearby, Garrett and Simon were arguing quietly about whether it was better to spread out or keep everything tight.
“Closer,” Simon insisted. “If something happens, we need to be able to reach each other.”
“If something happens, we’re all screwed anyway,” Garrett muttered, but he still shifted his mattress an inch closer.
Across the room, someone dropped a stack of pillows and flinched at the noise, like even that was too loud now.
No one laughed.
Grace sat off to one side, knees pulled to her chest, a blanket draped around her shoulders even though it wasn’t cold. Maren hovered nearby, staying close enough that she could reach out if she needed to.
Caitlin stood near the center for a moment, hands on her hips as she scanned the setup. Then she clapped her hands, sharp enough to cut through the low murmur of voices.
“None of us have eaten since this afternoon, so I’m going to the kitchen to grab a few things,” she said. She gestured to a table that had been pushed up against the edge of the room. “I’ll leave it there. People can grab whatever they want when they feel like it.”
“You can’t be serious,” Sutton said. “You really think anyone feels like eating right now?”
“Of course not,” Caitlin replied. “But we need to keep our strength up so we can try to fight back if…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “You know what I mean. We can’t just give up.”
“You honestly think we can fight back at this point?” Jensen said, eyes narrowing. “Whoever this motherfucker is, he’s always twenty steps ahead. He’s thought of things that took us fucking ages to even consider. Like the river. That bomb trap was probably there for days, like Jesse said.”
Zach nodded. “He’s blocked every possible form of escape,” he said, throwing his hands up. “We can’t walk, swim, drive, or boat out of here without getting shot, slashed, or blown up. So what’s left at this point? Flying?”
Caitlin sighed. “I’m still getting food. Eat, don’t eat. It’s up to you.”
“I’ll help you,” I said, stepping forward.
Jasmine joined me, along with a couple of others, and we headed to the kitchen. No one spoke much as we grabbed whatever was easiest. Protein bars. Trail mix. Fruit. Things that didn’t require effort.
When we came back, we dumped everything onto the table Caitlin had pointed out earlier. No one rushed for it.
Unsurprisingly, the conversation hadn’t moved on from our dire situation.
“A piece of Logan could’ve survived that explosion, right?” Stevie was saying. “Like… a foot. Or maybe just a finger. It might wash up somewhere downstream, and then the cops can trace it back up here. And then we’ll finally have help.”
“Did you miss the part where he got completely vaporized?” Jensen shot back. “There are no fucking fingers washing up anywhere. And even if there was something like that, do you have any idea how long it would take for it to lead back here?”
“No shit,” Garrett muttered. “We’d all be dead by then.”
“Whatever,” Stevie said, shrinking back slightly. “It was just an idea.”
Wren pushed to her feet and snapped her fingers. “Look, guys, Caitlin was right earlier,” she said. “We can’t just lie down and wait to die. There has to be something we can do. We just need to think outside the box.”
“Exactly.” Caitlin nodded and moved away from the table to stand beside Wren. “There are no bad ideas right now. Even if something sounds stupid, it might spark a good idea from someone else.”
“Well… how about this?” Zach raised a hand. “When it’s light again, we drag a bunch of bright stuff into the clearing and make a huge SOS sign. If anyone flies overhead, they might see it.”
The room quieted as everyone considered it.
“I don’t know,” Jesse said after a moment. “I don’t think many planes or choppers fly over here. And even if someone notices the sign and reports it, the authorities will probably assume it was left there after a camp activity. Like, a survival game or something.”
“Yeah, the chances of it being taken seriously are pretty low,” Wren said. “But I think you’re on the right track, Zach. We need to get attention from the outside world.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Chris said. “What if we start a fire? A massive one. Out in the woods. Smoke like that would be visible for miles, and fire crews would have to respond. And we might even flush out the killer from wherever he’s hiding.”
“Are you serious?” Sutton snapped. “You want to set the forest on fire in the middle of summer?”
“It could get out of control in minutes,” Tamsin said. “Then it could spread to the camp and destroy our shelters. We might not even be able to outrun it.”
Chris’s jaw tightened. “I thought there were no bad ideas,” he muttered.