Chapter 22 #2
“Too flashy,” Cherry said, glancing over. “We want her to blend in, not stand out.”
"Right." He put back a black leather jacket and pulled out something more subdued. “What about this?”
“Better. But keep looking.”
Cherry moved on to my face, using contouring to reshape my features. She made my nose look wider, my cheekbones less pronounced, my jawline softer. Then she added glasses.
“There,” she finally said, stepping back to examine her work. “Take a look.”
I turned to face the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back.
The auburn hair completely transformed me, and the slightly messy way Cherry had styled it made me look a lot edgier. The glasses added to the effect, and the subtle changes to my face structure made me look like someone else entirely.
“Wow,” I said breathlessly.
“Told you,” Cherry said with a small, satisfied smile. “Now, let's get you changed.”
Jeremiah had settled on an outfit: an oversized cream-colored sweater, dark green cargo pants, and brown ankle boots. Nothing like the jeans and hoodie I'd been wearing before.
I changed quickly, hyper-aware of every second ticking past, and when I looked in the mirror again, I felt a small surge of hope. This might actually work. I looked nothing like the girl whose name was on that List.
A knock on the door made all three of us jump.
“It's me,” came Dylan's muffled voice. “I figured you’d all be in there.”
Cherry unlocked the door and let him in. His eyes widened when he saw me.
“Whoa,” he said. “Cherry, you're a magician! I barely recognize her.”
“I know.” She was already moving back to the makeup counter. “Did you ditch her phone?”
“Yup. Left it in the garden shed, buried under some tools. If anyone tracks it there, they'll waste a lot of time searching that whole property.”
“Good.” Jeremiah checked his watch. “Ginny should be here soon with the burner phones. Then we need to decide on our next move.”
“I’m guessing the motel from last year is a big fat no,” Cherry said, brows rising.
“Yeah. I think we should stay away from any kind of shared accommodation. Too many people. Too much risk of being spotted.”
“I actually might have an idea,” Dylan said slowly, rubbing his jaw. He looked at Cherry. “Do you remember that guy I was seeing in freshman year? Bryce?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure do.”
“Sorry to bring him up,” Dylan said hurriedly, looking back at Jeremiah. “I promise I have a good reason for it.”
Jeremiah lifted his palms. “It’s fine. I know you had a life before you met me.”
“Well, as Cherry remembers so clearly, Bryce was very deep in the closet. He wouldn’t even speak to me or look at me in most public places, because he was scared someone would notice.
” Dylan shook his head, eyes rolling upward.
“Anyway, his family owned a lot of property around here, including an old hunting cabin they never used anymore up in Whitmore Forest. He used to take me there on weekends, because it was so remote that there was no way anyone would ever see us. And his family never went there. So he considered it ‘safe’ for us.”
“A remote cabin would be amazing as a hideout, but… I really don’t think we should call Bryce,” Cherry said, head slowly shaking. “I mean, you guys didn’t exactly end on good terms. So he’d probably go straight to the nearest hunter and give us up.”
“I’m not suggesting we call him,” Dylan said.
“I remember exactly where the cabin is, and I also remember where the spare key is hidden. And it’s a really rustic old place.
No alarms or electronic codes to get in.
So we could head up there and hunker down for the night.
Stay there until two o’clock tomorrow. Then Violet will be safe. ”
“What if Bryce is there with one of his secret dates?”
“He won’t be. He graduated last year, and last I heard, he moved to Chicago for work.”
“And you’re absolutely sure his family never goes there?” Jeremiah asked, raising his brows.
“Totally. The place is basically falling apart. It probably doesn’t even have power connected to it anymore,” Dylan replied. “So it won’t be the nicest night for us. But it’ll be safe.”
I nodded slowly. “I think it’s a good idea,” I said. “No one will ever think to look for us at your ex-hookup’s cabin.”
“Especially because he never admitted we were seeing each other,” Dylan said. “So hardly anyone even knew about it.”
“It’ll be like camping,” Cherry said, her expression brightening slightly. “We can stop by a grocery store first. Grab some snacks and stuff to make s’mores. Then we can sit in the dark and tell ghost stories all night.”
“Hold on.” Jeremiah lifted a palm. “What if they’re tracking our cars?”
Cherry arched a brow and jingled her keys. “Um, hello? I’m the senior production coordinator here. That means I have access to the theater department van. And there’s no way they’re going to be tracking that.”
“Perfect,” Jeremiah said. Then he frowned. “Wait, where's Ginny? I thought she’d be here by now.”
As if summoned by his words, another knock sounded at the door.
“Finally,” Cherry muttered, moving to unlock it.
Ginny slipped inside, slightly breathless, her arms full of small boxes. “Sorry I took so long,” she said, setting everything down on the counter. “The line at the store was insane, and then I had to make sure no one was following me back here.”
Jeremiah was already tearing into one of the boxes. “Everyone take one and program in everyone else's new numbers,” he said. “And for god's sake, turn off the location services, just in case.”
We spent the next few minutes setting up the burner phones, the room filled with the sounds of plastic crinkling and buttons beeping.
“Okay,” Cherry said once we'd all exchanged our new numbers. “Let's get out of here before someone notices we've been holed up in the costume room for too long.”
We filed out carefully, Cherry leading the way through the theater's back corridors. The van was parked in the loading area behind the building—a white fifteen-passenger vehicle with ‘BHU Theater Department’ stenciled on the side in faded blue letters.
“Everybody in,” Cherry said, unlocking the doors. “And keep your heads down until we're off campus.”
I climbed into the back row, Jeremiah sliding in beside me while Dylan took the passenger seat and Ginny sat in the middle row. Cherry started the engine, and we pulled out of the loading zone.
The drive through campus felt interminable. Every car we passed, every person walking along the sidewalk, could be a hunter. Could be watching us.
But no one stopped us. No one gave chase.
And then we were finally off campus, merging onto the main road, and I felt like I could breathe again.
We stopped at a grocery store on the outskirts of the city, and Cherry and Ginny ran in while the rest of us waited in the van. They returned fifteen minutes later with bags full of snacks, bottled water, sandwiches, and ingredients for s'mores.
“We got flashlights too,” Ginny said, holding up a package. “In case the power is actually out at the cabin.”
“Good call,” Jeremiah said.
We started driving northeast, and Cherry pulled up to a traffic light, waiting to make a left turn onto the highway. A black sedan was in front of us, its blinker on for the same turn.
I was staring out the window, trying to calm my racing heart, when I saw him.
A figure in black standing on the corner. Black jeans, black jacket, black mask covering the upper half of his face. He was scanning the vehicles waiting at the light, methodical and patient… and then his gaze landed on our van.
On me.
Even through the mask, even from this distance, I knew those eyes. Knew the way he stood, the tilt of his head, the broad set of his shoulders.
Julian.
My breath caught in my throat. “Oh my god.”
“What?” Jeremiah asked, following my gaze. “Shit, is that—”
“A hunter,” Cherry finished, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Everyone stay calm. He's probably looking for someone else.”
But Julian wasn't looking away. His attention was fixed on our van, his head tilting slightly, like he was trying to see through the tinted windows. Trying to confirm what he suspected.
“He's staring right at us,” Ginny whispered, her voice tight with fear.
“He can't actually see in,” Dylan said, but he didn't sound convinced.
Julian took a step toward the van.
“Holy shit.” Jeremiah’s eyes bulged. “I think that’s Julian Valcourt!”
Dylan squinted. “Oh my god, you’re right, it is.”
“Cherry,” I said urgently. “We really need to go.”
“I can't. There's still a car in front of us.” Her voice was strained. “Come on, come on, move…”