Chapter 20 Marlene
Marlene
I hate that I had a panic attack. I can still feel the aftermath, the slight tremor in my hands, like the tears could come back and pull me under at any moment. I hate looking so weak, and I especially hated the way Avery and Caulder had to drop everything to try to calm me down.
Yes, two people were attacked and a third person is dead, but we had to stop worrying about that to deal with Marlene’s inconveniently timed mental health crisis.
I wish I was the kind of person who could be strong and fearless when everything goes to shit. Someone who could think things through in milliseconds and make the right decisions. But that’s never been me. I’ve always gone to pieces, and I hate it.
“Marlene?”
Avery pushes a cup of water into my hands.
Even though Caulder told us that the telephone wires were ripped out, she keeps alternating between picking up the landline to listen for a tone and bringing me things to keep me busy.
I think she hopes that she can fix at least one of our problems: the phone or me.
So far, though, the phone remains broken.
The jury’s still out on me.
I take the water from Avery, sipping a little.
My throat’s raw from sucking in air, and the cool liquid helps.
Avery smiles at me before walking away, gnawing on a freshly bloody cuticle before shoving her hands in her sleeves.
She heads into the living room and begins to pick up the clothes still on the floor from Emerson’s “prank,” piling them on the chair opposite Lucas.
The whole time, her eyes keep flitting to him, as if he’ll suddenly sit up and say, “Surprise! I’m fine! ”
No such luck.
Right now, it’s our job to keep an eye on Lucas while the others check the house. Essentially, we’ve been given the job for people who have zero actual survival skills.
Avery returns to the kitchen and picks up the phone again, but this time, she holds it out like she’s inspecting it, like if she stares at it long enough, she’ll be able to figure out exactly how to resurrect it.
When she can’t make it work, she throws it down and returns to hovering near me, her arms crossed as her eyes dart around the room.
“If they don’t find anything, what will we do?” I ask.
Ever since I first joined the club, Avery’s always had the answers. She’s always been the one with our practice schedules, our itineraries. She did my orientation and took me through all the basics. She told me everything I could’ve ever needed to know about debate.
But this, obviously, isn’t that. Outside, in the rain, Mr. Jay’s body is already starting to rot in tiny, microscopic ways.
It’s a crime scene. At some point—if we’re lucky enough to survive the night—we’ll be asked about him, about his death.
And that’s not even accounting for the other teachers.
I still refuse to believe they’re dead, too.
After all, Lucas is over there right now, alive and breathing, so they might be, as well.
My guess is they’re out there and in need of our help.
Or maybe they found Mr. Jay’s body and ran.
One look at Avery tells me she’s running through the same roster of facts, thinking through every possible angle. She worries her lip, taking a seat on the other stool. Her foot jiggles, keeping her in constant motion.
“Caulder’s right,” she whispers. “The most important thing is that we stay calm. But I’m worried…The longer Lucas goes without medical attention, the lower the chance he survives this. And even Emerson…His injuries are minor, but they’ll need to be treated at some point. And…”
And Mr. Jay.
They’ll need to see him, too, if only to pronounce him dead.
“So you think we should leave?” I ask. “To go find help?”
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t. I mean, we can’t all leave. Not with Lucas here. And not with…Well, the attacker could be outside, couldn’t they?”
“So could the other teachers.”
She nods and looks at the window. It’s still pitch-black, the rain a steady thrum all around us. That, and the footsteps in the house. Caulder’s footsteps, and Emerson’s and Kaitlyn’s and Javi’s.
“Marlene,” she says quietly. “What’d you say to Javi in Spanish?”
I was wondering when she would ask me. She doesn’t ask the other question, but I hear it anyway: What did you want to say to him that you didn’t want the rest of us to hear?
I hadn’t known Caulder spoke Spanish at first, but it didn’t matter.
Really, the only one I was hiding my words from was Emerson.
I don’t trust him. I’ll never trust him, but especially not now.
“I basically just wanted him to calm down,” I say. “Leave Emerson alone. He’s trouble.”
“Javi’s trouble?”
I bite out a laugh. “No. Emerson.”
She doesn’t look convinced, even though I know she and Emerson have their own issues.
And I get why she would assume I meant Javi.
Even at Davis Prep, before I transferred, I heard about what Javi did to Warren Kane and saw the pictures on social media that circulated.
I remember the purple skin, the stitches along his jaw, the swollen eye, which doctors apparently worried he wouldn’t be able to see out of.
Some students whispered that Warren had had to drink all his food for months.
There were other rumors that Javi shattered Warren’s kneecap so bad that there were bits of bone floating around in his cartilage afterward.
He had to have surgery to fix it, and there was even a period of time when people thought he’d have his D1 scholarships pulled for football.
But right now, it’s not Javi I’m worried about. It’s Emerson. Avery should understand that. After all, he’s the one throwing accusations at her. As if she could kill Mr. Jay.
There are a lot of things Avery might be capable of, but I’m pretty sure murder isn’t one of them.
Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time this weekend I’ve been wrong about someone on this team.
“We can’t stay here,” Kaitlyn says, bursting into the kitchen. “We should never have come in the first place.”
Javi’s behind her. He meets my eyes and raises his eyebrows, checking that everything’s all right. I offer up a weak smile.
“We can’t leave Lucas,” Avery says. “And the van’s not drivable.”
“So we walk along the road,” Kaitlyn says. “Wait for someone to drive by and we hitchhike.”
Behind Kaitlyn and Javi, Caulder and Emerson appear. They look equally defeated. Emerson also looks agitated, though whether that’s his injuries or general inability to handle difficulty, I’m not sure.
“There’s no guarantee a car will drive by,” Caulder says, clearly having overheard our conversation. “We could just be putting ourselves in danger for no reason.”
“How far away’s the next town?” Javi asks, looking at Emerson.
“Fifteen miles, give or take,” he says, throwing up his hands when we all groan. “Look, the whole point was that this place is secluded, okay?”
“There’s got to be at least a gas station,” Kaitlyn says. “Or a place with cell service.”
“Not necessarily,” Javi counters. “We’re remote as hell. Whoever originally lived here wanted to be left alone.”
I try to think back to the last sign I saw when we were in the van, but I come up short. All I remember from staring out the window is a long stretch of darkness in front of and behind us.
“So we’d have to walk a bit,” Kaitlyn says. “Big deal.”
“Like I said,” Caulder presses. “The road’s dangerous. Whoever attacked us probably got here by the road, right? So, what if they’re still out there?”
“Then we go another way,” Kaitlyn insists. “We can go through the forest by the cliff or whatever. Follow the coastline.”
“You’re kidding,” Avery says. “This is literally how people die in scary movies. You know that, right?”
“People also die because they stay in place while the murderer waits for the right time,” Kaitlyn snaps.
“We should at least wait for the storm to end,” Avery argues. “You won’t be able to see three feet in front of you. You could get lost. You will get lost.”
“We don’t have time to just wait,” Kaitlyn says. “Every minute counts. What about Lucas?”
I glance over at him, worry rolling through me again. Weren’t Avery and I just talking about how he needs to see a doctor—and soon?
“It won’t matter for Lucas if we get ourselves lost or killed,” Avery replies, echoing my thoughts.
“We don’t know anything about what’s outside.
If we stay here in this kitchen and wait out the storm, we’re all together.
We have a line of sight to at least two of the entrances. And if the teachers come back—”
“You think Dormy and McCullough are coming back?” Kaitlyn snorts. “I still think the attacker took care of them, too. Or they are the attacker. How else do you explain them being gone?”
Avery glares. “They might have already left for help. We don’t know…”
But she trails off. And really, what can she say?
“I think we should go,” I say, surprising everyone. “Leaving feels like our best shot.”
I hate the betrayal in Avery’s eyes. She’s so used to me always agreeing with her, but right now, I can’t. I can’t stay in this house another second. Not with Lucas’s life hanging in the balance.
“Perfect,” Kaitlyn says, huffing out a breath. “Lemme go get some raincoats. I swear I saw some earlier. Marlene, Caulder, Javi…anyone else?”
“Well, obviously, I’m staying,” Avery says. “Someone has to take care of Lucas.”
“Avery, you can’t stay by yourself,” Caulder says, stepping close to her. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“I’m the one being smart,” she says. “I’ll keep an eye on Lucas and wait for the teachers. You go…find the town, I guess.”
Caulder’s jaw twitches. “No.”
“No what?” Kaitlyn asks, returning with the still-wet umbrellas from earlier and raincoats that she must have dug out of the closet.
“Avery and I will stay,” Caulder says, and Avery blinks in surprise.
“Yeah, you guys can leave and get murdered,” Emerson says, flopping onto a chair. “You can take that Scooby-Doo shit out there, but I’m staying behind a locked door.”
Kaitlyn’s eyes narrow. You can practically see her thinking the word “coward” directly at him.
She looks at Caulder, as if now he’ll take back his decision to stay since Avery won’t be alone.
Clearly, though, Caulder doesn’t see Emerson staying as a safety upgrade.
If anything, he looks more determined than before.
“All of you, keep your phones on you in case you get cell service, okay?” Caulder says. “And, Kait, don’t do anything…rash.”
She rolls her eyes. “Aye, aye, captain. Same to you.”
And then she heads for the door, Javi at her heels. And this is my chance to decide to change my mind. To stay.
Avery looks at me, and I think of finding Lucas upstairs. The blood everywhere. Mr. Jay’s body just outside the walls.
I can’t stay here.
“Be careful,” she whispers, her voice barely loud enough to float to me as I head to the door.
“You too,” I say. Then I step outside, letting the cold night bite into my skin as the rain thrashes against my umbrella.