Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
The ocean breeze hits my face the moment I step outside.
I’ve never been so happy to feel the sunlight on my skin.
The damp mist hits my face as the air stirs around me with the breeze.
The forest is fighting its own fight, its natural perfume refusing to be ignored, as the strong scent of the forest nearby weaves and bobs against the pungent aroma of the sea.
I take a deep, steadying breath as I recenter myself and my surroundings.
It’s the first real breath of air I’ve had in hours that doesn’t have the underlying scent of death tinged in it.
The air smells like a mix of salt and brine, making me homesick for the comfort and safety of my everyday life back in North Carolina.
Not that I can ever expect to have a normal life after this.
I grip the machete tightly in my hand, and I take a quick lap around the lighthouse in case there’s something else out here I can use.
It’s just your run-of-the-mill lighthouse, though.
Dead plants and overgrown weeds line the outside, further confirming that this place hasn’t been used in months, possibly years.
Something catches my eye in the dirt under my foot.
I bend down to inspect it. It looks like blood. Fresh blood.
Raising my machete, I follow the trail back around the lighthouse. It leads me to a dumpster tucked into the corner that I somehow missed before.
Teagan, you have got to pay better attention to your surroundings if you’re going to get out of here alive.
Something in the dumpster moves when I tap the side with the handle of my machete.
Like the fool I am, I risk opening the lid to take a look when I hear a muted moan.
What if it’s Quinn? Travis could have tried to kill him like he murdered David and thrown him in the dumpster.
What if it’s Travis, and Quinn attacked him first?
I have to know who’s in there, and who’s still out there hunting for me.
The hair on the back of my neck stands upright as I peer into the dumpster. My eyes take a moment to adjust to what I’m seeing, but once I do, I slam the top closed with a loud bang. The noise ricochets through the air. Great, another damn homing beacon to lead Travis right toward me.
Ahmed lets out a pitiful shout from inside the dumpster. I should leave him and run. But I can’t. I don’t think I’m capable of leaving a person to die alone, even if that person has been tasked with hunting me down and ending my life.
I open the top again. He winces when the light hits him. “Ahmed,” I whisper, looking towards the forest to see if anyone is heading this way. “It’s me, Teagan.”
He stirs and sits up, grasping the back of his head painfully. When he pulls his hand away, we both gasp at the blood covering it. “What—what happened?” he asks.
“Umm, I’m not sure. I was hiding in the lighthouse until about half an hour ago.
” The lie slips off my tongue easier than I’d like to admit.
I can’t tell him that Quinn most likely hurt him to save me, especially when I’m not sure what angle Quinn is playing, yet.
“Will you promise not to hurt me if I help you out of there? I mean it, Ahmed. I will shut this damn dumpster lid on you and leave you here to figure it out yourself.”
Ahmed hesitantly meets my eyes and nods.
“I promise. Besides, I don’t think I can get out of here on my own.
” He shifts his position and winces. “If you really do leave me here, I think I might just lie back down and die.” He lets out a strangled laugh, which makes me trust him a bit more than I probably should.
“Okay, let me see what I can find to use as a step stool,” I tell him. “I promise I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Ahmed sasses back.
I stifle a laugh and turn to leave him when my eyes catch more blood drips.
No, not drips. They are tiny little paw prints.
It looks like they’re going under the dumpster.
My heart pounds with irrational fear as I kneel to take a closer look.
What if it’s a raccoon that wants to tear my face off?
It would make Pierce’s day knowing I failed his game by being eaten alive by some rabies-infected, dumpster-diving rodent.
There is a flash of movement, and I hear the tiniest little meow before my eyes land on a grey tabby-striped kitten cowering in the corner near one of the rusted wheels. The poor thing is shaking fiercely and cannot be older than a couple of months. She’s just a baby.
I drum my fingers on the ground, trying to entice the kitten to come to me.
“Come here, you sweet thing. Where’s your mama?
” It lets out another tiny meow and takes a hesitant step toward me as I continue to coo softly.
It sniffs my outstretched hand, and its tail vibrates as it starts purring against my palm.
After a few preciously wasted minutes, the kitten follows my dancing fingers as I coax her out from under the trash can. I pick her up gently and bring her to my face, cuddling and soothing her as she meows again.
“Is that a cat?” Ahmed’s voice startles both my new tiny friend and me. I jump to my feet with the kitten held safely to my chest.
I look into the dumpster at Ahmed. He’s sitting up and has some color back in his cheeks, which seems like a good sign.
“Sorry, I got distracted.” I carefully lift the kitten to show him. “Do you think you can take her while I find a crate or something to help get you out of there?”
Ahmed’s eager smile and joyful brown eyes are answer enough.
I pass the kitten to him. Then I toss him a pack of trail mix, a box of water, and a pack of tuna before I go hunt down something to help Ahmed.
He isn’t a large man, but there’s no way I can help him get out if I can’t even get myself into the disgusting dumpster.
I circle the lighthouse again and start to wonder how heavy the chest of supplies is when I see a rusted metal ladder under the set of stairs that lead into the lighthouse.
Grabbing it, I lean it against the wall and add some weight by carefully stepping on the rings.
It’s creaky and loud under my weight, but it’ll work.
When I get back to the dumpster, Ahmed is sweet-talking the kitten. “Do you think you can stand and get onto the ladder?” I ask him as I hop from the ladder into the dumpster with him.
Ahmed hands the kitten to me, and I gently tuck her into my duffel bag before helping him to his feet.
He’s unsteady, but he’s also on a mountain of uneven trash that has been here for lord knows how long.
“Yeah,” he says after a beat. “I think I can get out.” He lifts himself over the lip of the can, using the ladder for balance, and lowers himself out.
Then, he reaches a hand back in to help me out.
“Thank you, Teagan. I know this must have been difficult for you, considering our circumstances.”
It really wasn’t, though. I never could have left Ahmed knowing he needed my help. I could never regret coming to the aid of someone in need, even if that kind gesture comes back to bite me in the ass.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “Let’s just take a moment to breathe some fresh air—no offense, but you smell like death—then we can decide if killing each other is our next step or not.”
He gives me a reassuring, lopsided grin before we both slide to the ground in front of the dumpster. We enjoy a quick meal as the kitten finishes the tuna.
“What did you name her?” Ahmed asks while tipping the remainder of the trail mix into his mouth.
“I haven’t gotten that far yet, but Dumpster Kitty sort of has a fun ring to it,” I answer, petting my new little friend softly on the head, earning contented purrs in return.
Ahmed chuckles and tosses the empty trail mix to the side. Usually, I’d lecture him on that, but right now, littering is the least of my problems.
“Well, how did you find her? You can’t name her Dumpster Kitty, that’s just rude. Plus, she’s too cute to get saddled down with a name like that.”
I look over at him, then down to the kitten before I point to the little bloody paw prints on the side of the dumpster. “I followed the trail of paw prints.”
“Hmm,” Ahmed contemplates as he looks from the paw prints to the kitten. “What about Paw Prints? It seems fitting enough.”
“I sort of love that,” I agree, laughing with him. I pick up Paw Prints and nuzzle her. “We can call you Paws for short.” I turn to Ahmed. “What do you think about that?”
His whole face lights up with mirth as he smiles at me. “I think that’s perfect.”
“So, what did you do to get yourself invited to Windermere and this game of Hell?” I ask him, popping some of my own trail mix into my mouth.
He reaches out to pet Paws and opens his mouth to respond when an arrow pierces through his throat, showering Paws and me in a hot mist of red.
“Did you really think you’d get away?” Travis yells, running towards me with a bow in his hands.
Shit, shit, shit.
I quickly grab my machete and bag of supplies, tossing Paws inside before I take off running toward the other side of the lighthouse. Travis doesn’t seem to be a fast runner, so maybe I can get around the loop and head into the trees for cover as he tries to catch up to me.
“You can run, but you can’t hide!” Travis shouts. “ Oh Teagaaaaan,” his voice takes on a creepy sing-songy tune, making my insides quiver.
His voice bounces through the air, making it impossible to pinpoint exactly where he is.
I refuse to waste time turning around to look.
An arrow whizzes by, landing in the sand a few feet to my right.
I keep running, holding the bag tight to my chest with one hand, and pray Paws is okay.
My other hand grips the machete. The forest is so close. The darkness beckons me to run faster.
I scream as another arrow grazes me and tears my flesh. Hot, searing pain ignites in my shoulder as I enter the tree-line.
But I’m not safe yet.
I dive behind a large tree and hold my hand to my mouth, stifling another sob. My entire body convulses while my heart threatens to pound right out of my sternum. Angry tears stream down my face as I struggle to breathe evenly.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Travis coos from somewhere close. Much, much too close for comfort. I cease breathing when I hear the crunch of his footsteps over the fallen leaves on the forest floor. He’s only yards away from me.
All the noises in the forest come to a halting stop.
“I give you props, princess. You used your little boy toy to send me on a fool’s errand.
He really did try to save you.” More branches nearby break under his hulking weight.
“But I’m not as stupid as the rest of them.
I left a trail of arrows so I could find my way back to you, just in case he turned on me.
He’ll be lucky to survive the night in that stupid garden once I’m through with you. ”
Quinn.
I search the forest floor around me like I can somehow find the breadcrumbs that’ll lead me to him. The garden is nowhere near here, but at least now I know where to find him.
I’ve gotten so many of them murdered today.
It’s my fault. All of this death is because of me.
Amber.
David.
Ahmed.
I won’t let Quinn die because of me.
Travis lets out an angry howl. “WHERE ARE YOU!”
Nobody else will die because of me.
I quietly place my bag on the ground, hoping and praying that Paws will stay quiet just a little bit longer.
Gripping the machete tightly, I pull myself to a standing position and peek around the tree.
Travis is standing about three yards away with a devilishly hateful grin on his face. “There you are, little princess.”
I have to end this. End him.
Flashing my own smile right back at him, I crook my finger at him. “Come and get me then.”
Travis doesn’t hesitate before he runs toward me at a full sprint. I plant my foot and wait until he’s only feet away from me before I swing the machete with full force at him. He runs right through it. The thunk of his head hitting the forest floor reverberates through my entire body.