Chapter 18 Avery
Avery
I know before the boys return that something’s wrong.
Normally, my anxiety misleads me. It tricks me.
It tells me that my body is facing a threat, and it makes no difference whether that threat is a debate competition or a walk down the hall at school.
To my brain, the worst is waiting just around the corner, waiting for my inevitable mistakes.
I’ve always done my best to outsmart it, to prepare myself so well that I can face whatever the day has to throw at me.
But now my anxiety isn’t its usual buzz of nerves refusing to be ignored. Now my anxiety is tempered to a strange calm, as if it’s finally being proven right. So when the door opens and the guys come back inside, immediately locking it behind them, I already know what Caulder’s going to tell me.
Something’s happened. Something they want to keep locked outside, away from the rest of us.
Does he hear my thoughts? Because his eyes rise to meet mine. There’s something there, something I can’t read. But I recognize the look. It’s the same one he gave me before I stepped out onto the debate stage and lost the competition for us. It was a warning. A warning I ignored.
Whatever this warning is, I should heed it. And the urge to run is strong. Truly, if Marlene’s hand weren’t clutched in mine, I might. Because whatever Caulder’s about to say, I know in my bones that it will change everything.
“What?” Kaitlyn says. She’s been pacing in the kitchen, eyes darting to the windows ever since they left.
While I’ve held on to Marlene—literally—Kaitlyn’s been in constant motion.
Occasionally, she’s gone to check on Lucas, but he’s the same: unconscious though breathing steadily. But for how much longer?
“What?” Kaitlyn demands again as Javi comes into the kitchen. There’s pleading in her eyes. She wants the truth. Needs it. And Kaitlyn Bendix always gets what she wants.
“Mr. Jay,” Caulder says. “He’s…gone.”
The world spins underneath me. Those words, the impossibility of them. The finality of them.
“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Kaitlyn asks, her voice pitching high, bordering on hysterical. “You don’t mean he’s…dead?”
But they do. They nod, saying as much.
Someone I know—someone I knew—is dead. And worse…
I wanted him dead.
Next to me, Marlene’s hand slips out of mine. When I turn to her, she’s dropped to the ground, curled in on herself, and is sobbing, big, heavy, racking sobs.
I follow her down to the floor immediately, recognizing the way Marlene’s fighting for breath, the way her entire body shakes. I’ve never seen it before in another person, but I’ve felt it and know the shell-shocked look in her eyes when she lifts them up to mine.
As I crouch beside Marlene, Dr. Millet’s voice floats back to me.
Avery, what you’re describing to me sounds like a panic attack.
“Shit,” Caulder says. “What’s going on?”
“Is she hysterical or something?” Kaitlyn asks.
As the others’ voices swirl around me, I focus on Marlene, keeping my voice as steady and even as I can, trying to ignore my own heart slamming against my chest.
“Marlene,” I say. “Can you take some deep breaths for me? In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?”
“We don’t have time for this,” Emerson says. “Someone murdered Jay!”
“Emerson,” Kaitlyn snaps. “Shut the fuck up, okay? You’re not helping.”
“Are you kidding?” Emerson says. “Are you fucking kidding? Jay is dead—”
“We know, man,” Javi says. “But Kait’s right. We need to be calm.”
I keep my voice low, low enough that only Marlene can hear, as I guide her through breathing. She’s grabbed my hands again, squeezing them as she struggles through short, shaky breaths.
“Caulder,” I say, keeping my eyes on Marlene. “Can you get me an ice cube?”
Caulder doesn’t question me. I hear his footsteps, the opening of the freezer door; then his hand is next to mine, holding a spherical ice cube, the kind Emerson was using for his drinks.
I take it from him and slip it into Marlene’s hands. She jolts at the cold, but I wrap my hands around hers and make her hold on to it.
“It’ll shock your nervous system,” I tell her. “And keep breathing. Hold the breath in your stomach for a second before you let it go. That’s it.”
I feel Caulder’s eyes on me still. He’s at my side, watching Marlene’s breathing slowly steady, her sobs turning to hiccups.
“Javi,” Caulder says, louder now. “Can you check the rooms one more time? Go with Emerson. We need to secure the house.”
Javi nods, turning and dragging Emerson out by the arm, ignoring Emerson’s protests.
I can hear them climbing the stairs and walking down the hall. Marlene hiccups again, but her breathing sounds almost normal. Eventually, I loosen my hold on her hands.
“I’m sorry,” Marlene says, shivering now. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s a lot. Just try to breathe, okay?”
“Did you guys fix the phone?” Kaitlyn asks, glancing at the landline. I follow her gaze. The landline’s on the counter, a smooth, cream-colored, plastic antique. While the boys were gone, I tried calling 911 again, but there was still nothing on the other end.
Caulder shakes his head. “We checked the telephone box and the breaker. Nothing was wrong with the breaker. And the telephone box…”
Caulder looks at Marlene, seeming to decide something.
“Someone ripped all the wires out,” he says.
Kaitlyn and I look at each other. She asks the question I’m thinking.
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone cut the line on purpose,” he says. “Someone killed Jay and then cut the line.”
There’s a thud around the corner. It has to just be Javi and Emerson moving on to the downstairs rooms. I force myself not to give in to my own anxiety, to stay in the present.
“So someone is trying to…” Kaitlyn stumbles over the words, and for the first time, I hear fear in her voice. “To kill us?”
Caulder’s jaw tightens. I see now the line he’s walking, trying to keep us all from falling apart. But hiding the truth won’t save us.
“It could just be an intruder,” he reasons. “Someone who tried to break in here thinking it was empty, then finding us. They panicked when they saw Emerson and Lucas—attacked them and fled. Then they ran into Jay. Maybe that was another rash decision. There was a rock out there with…”
Another look at Marlene. She hiccups, looking down at the ground, as if keeping steady eye contact with the tile will block out whatever Caulder’s about to say.
“A lot of blood,” Caulder finishes. “But it might’ve been an accident. He could’ve fallen.”
Now I see the lie in his eyes, in the set of his jaw. As I watch him, Javi and Emerson appear in the hallway. Javi checks Lucas, then confirms the front door’s still locked. Emerson fidgets near him, his eyes darting back to Lucas and then to the rest of us.
“Might’ve,” Kaitlyn says, her own gaze bouncing to Lucas. “But probably not.”
There’s silence at her words, something hollow and gaping. She looks around at each of us before speaking again.
“What about the other teachers?” Kaitlyn demands. “Were they out there, too?”
“We didn’t see anyone else,” Javi answers. “But we also didn’t look.”
“So they could be,” Kaitlyn continues. “Either they did this or—”
“Or they’re hurt, too,” Javi finishes.
Caulder shrugs. “We don’t know. We don’t know anything. Hopefully, it was all just a failed burglary and whoever it is took off.”
“In this rain?” Kaitlyn demands. “Who would choose tonight to rob this place?”
“Maybe they thought it’d be easier to get away with it with the storm,” Javi says. “Make it harder for police to get out here or something.”
“Regardless, we need to be calm,” Caulder says. “We need to think this through.”
“Or,” Emerson says, “we need to open our fucking eyes.”
He strides toward the center of the kitchen, near a knife block that sits on the counter. When his glare lands on me, my heart stutters.
“You,” Emerson growls, pointing his finger at me. “You.”
There’s rage boiling in his eyes. And when I think about it, it’s not hard to figure out why. Emerson’s brother is—was—Mr. Jay’s best friend. Their families are close.
And everyone knows I had an argument with Mr. Jay last night.
Caulder even heard it.
And now…he’s dead.
“You aren’t seriously suggesting that Avery did this, are you?” Caulder says, stepping in front of Emerson.
“I thought you said some guy attacked you and Lucas,” Kaitlyn says. “What happened to that story?”
“This might not be the same person,” Emerson says. “I fought off the guy who came after me and Lucas, but we don’t know if they’re the same person who attacked Jay. What we do know is that Winslow here had it out for Jay.”
Emerson’s eyes blaze on me, flickering to Caulder for a moment before returning.
“She was the one screaming at him last night,” Emerson says. “Are we really going to ignore that? And you two could’ve gone outside while we were still hiding.”
“Except we didn’t,” I snap. “We were inside the entire time.”
“Yeah,” Caulder adds. “Don’t you remember your little game where you trapped us in a room?”
Emerson’s eyes dart around. “You could’ve gone outside while we hid—”
“We’d be soaking wet if we’d been outside,” Caulder argues.
“You could’ve changed!” Emerson snarls, advancing on me. “Just admit it, Winslow. You wanted him dead. You—”
“Stop it,” Caulder says, holding his hand out to keep Emerson from moving closer. “We’re going to take a fucking beat here, all right? We’re not going to hurl accusations at anyone. That doesn’t help us.”
“I dunno,” Javi says. “I can think of someone else who might have some explaining to do.”
He walks over to the knife block. Unlike Emerson, though, he doesn’t just stand next to it.
He reaches over and grabs the whole block, turning to set it behind him on the counter—away from Emerson’s reach, I assume.
But then he runs his fingers over the handles before grabbing one and rotating back around so he’s facing us with the knife in his hand.
He holds it casually, his eyes firmly on Emerson. Emerson looks from him to the knife, backing up.
“What the fuck, man?” Emerson says, the fear unmistakable in his voice.
“You’re the one who wanted to do the prank on Caulder and Avery,” he says. “You’re the one who suggested we do all that weird rapture prank shit and then hide. Now Lucas is unconscious, Jay’s dead, and Dorman and McCullough are missing.”
“Yeah,” Emerson says, gesturing to the blood all over his clothes. “I’m also the one who got attacked. And why would I kill Jay? He’s like family.”
He has Javi there. I can’t think of a single reason why Emerson would want Jay dead.
“Well,” Javi says, holding the knife up and examining the sharpness of the blade. “Someone did. And I don’t know if I buy that that someone was random.”
“Javi, baja el cuchillo,” Marlene says, her eyes wide. “Por favor.”
“Oh, that’s fair,” Emerson snaps. “Talk shit about me in Spanish. That’s great.”
“She just said ‘put the knife down,’ ” Caulder says, voice cold. “And frankly, I agree.”
“How the hell do you know?” Emerson demands.
“Because I can speak Spanish,” Caulder says. “My dad taught me.”
As Caulder’s talking, I notice that Javi’s eyes are on Marlene, his gaze intense, like she’s a puzzle he needs to solve. She’s still struggling to breathe properly next to me, her cheeks still red from crying.
“?Lo crees?” Javi asks her. “Because I don’t.”
“Javi,” Caulder says, his voice a warning.
“See?” Emerson says, getting more and more hysterical. “You’re all plotting against me. When I’m the victim here!”
Javi glares at Emerson. “Forgive me for not trusting you after you were just spouting some seriously racist shit.”
“Oh, and you’re so innocent, Machado,” Emerson says. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one with the famous temper, aren’t you? And you’re the one with the fucking knife!”
Javi’s eyes narrow. “I work with knives every day, Butler. In my parents’ five-star restaurant. I’m pretty sure you’re the one who needs to watch his fucking mouth.”
Marlene hiccups, shaking her head. “Javi, no tientes la suerte. Be careful.”
“Okay, I hate to sound like Emerson here, but can we please stick to English?” Kaitlyn snaps.
I watch Marlene. I don’t know what she’s saying—or why she doesn’t want me, Kaitlyn, and Emerson to know—but whatever it is, at least the blame isn’t being cast on me. That still leaves the reality, though, that someone killed Jay.
And it could be someone in this room.
“I’d suggest you all get your own weapon,” Javi says, tossing the knife in the air, letting it twist and turn before he catches it easily by the handle. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”