Chapter 34 Caulder
Caulder
“How long ago did this happen?” I ask Kaitlyn. “When did he go under?”
She shakes her head, tears tracking down her cheeks. “I don’t know. I wasn’t here. I saw the jacket. And the water—”
“We need to go after him,” I say, turning to the edge. “He could still be alive.”
But someone’s pulling me back, holding me firmly in place. It’s Mr. McCullough, and I wrench away from him, rage filling my every muscle. He’s strong, though, and his hand stays firmly affixed to my shoulder.
“Let me go,” I say, struggling to break free. “He needs help.”
“He’s gone, Caulder,” Mr. McCullough says. “If he hasn’t surfaced by now, he’s not going to. And we have to get back to the house. Mr. Jay—”
“I know Mr. Jay is dead!” I shout at him, losing any scrap of cool I was still hanging on to. “I’m the one who found him. Me. While you were out doing whatever the fuck you were doing, I found his body!”
Mr. McCullough looks like I’ve punched him. And honestly, he deserves it. Fuck, I want to punch him.
“We can’t stay out here any longer,” Ms. Dorman says, stepping away from the edge. “We’ve got to get back to the house.”
I look out at the water, still red.
“Now,” she says. “We need to move now.”
Mr. McCullough nods, gripping my shoulder.
“This is all your fault,” Kaitlyn snaps, pulling away from Avery and starting toward Ms. Dorman. “How could you? How could you?”
Ms. Dorman blanches. “My fault?” she asks. “What’re you talking about?”
“Where were you?” Kaitlyn shouts, voice echoing off the cliffside. “Where were you both? While people died and the rest of us ran for our lives—where the hell were you?”
It’s the question Avery and I have been asking, too. I look at Mr. McCullough now, at the tightness in his jaw.
“I got lost,” he says. “With the storm and everything. But what matters is getting back to the house now.”
I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave Javi. I look over my shoulder, over the cliff, and realize that Avery’s watching me. There’s terror in her gaze.
“He’s right,” she says quietly. “It’s not safe here, Caulder.”
I want to shout that I’m not a coward. It’s what Javi would do. He wouldn’t rest until he’d found me.
But Mr. McCullough’s hand is on my arm, forcing me forward. Forcing me to walk.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Javi, to the wind, as tears slip out of my eyes. “I’m sorry for everything.”