Thirty-Six
Natalie.
There’s been so much of this tragedy that hasn’t fallen into place: the idea that three girls could be murdered by anyone, especially strangers, when that’s so exceedingly rare a thing; the violence by which they died; the extreme lack of evidence; the silence among the townspeople; and finally the absolute insistence upon this witch story being some integral part of real life murders in a world without magic or monsters.
No, it all comes back to one of America’s other pastimes—killers who hide behind ordinary facades.
Of course it’s the park rangers. Who else would know the woods and have their pick of victims?
And all that shit about Natalie not believing the witch story could easily be a ploy to keep people like me trusting her.
Innocent face, helpful, able to be anywhere you want her to be.
My stomach sinks just thinking of her sending us into the woods.
Right to Evan. Beck and I were right to not trust him.
Of course it was a two-person operation.
But there’s also a relief to it all. A knowledge that the killer—killers—finally have a face.
I sit on the bed. The world’s getting too heavy for me to keep my body up.
Beck holds Paisley secure, the two of them taking the bed opposite me to talk.
Paisley swallows hard. “You’re not gonna make me leave?”
Beck and I exchange a glance. Considering our killer is now extremely close, just busting out of here isn’t going to be the best move. “No,” I say. Not yet, anyway.
“Did you see Harlow and Opal’s bodies get moved to the ravine?”
“No.” Paisley closes her eyes a moment, shaking. “I didn’t. I haven’t heard any news. They were found somewhere else?”
I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth. “They were found in a ravine on the trail to the ghost town.”
I bet they did it together, Natalie and Evan.
Outsiders who came in, made a nest for themselves, and started picking off the visitors who came by.
If no one were discovered, or cases went away quickly, it wouldn’t have even become a concern for a town like this.
Especially not when they already blamed any violence on a fairy tale.
It’s the perfect cover for people who want to do their deeds under as little scrutiny as possible.
I can picture it so easily, too. Both Natalie and Evan met Paisley, Harlow, and Opal when they checked in.
My friends would’ve told them about their plans to go to the ghost town.
Natalie and Evan followed them. Natalie killed Harlow and Opal, but Paisley must’ve played dead.
Evan took her phone and jacket. Paisley escaped, and at some point the rangers realized this.
No one cared about Vanessa in their minds, but a lot of people cared about Paisley.
So they convinced the ISB that Vanessa is Paisley and formally closed the case, but everything would’ve been blown up if real Paisley ever emerged.
They’ve probably been searching for her the whole time.
Maybe Evan even thought inviting us here would knock out two birds with one stone: kill me, the witness, and use me to find Paisley.
A pinch of anger ignites in my heart. Evan didn’t get to see that twisted dream realized. Now Natalie won’t either.
“God,” Paisley says, running her fingers down her face.
Paisley looks up, looking me right in the eye.
“She killed Harlow and Opal. If Harlow hadn’t insisted that we not invite you last minute, you would’ve died too.
God…” She sniffles. “I’m sorry. I went along with it and told myself you’d be fine.
I know it was a terrible thing to do to you.
I know you feel like an outsider in the group.
But I—” She forms a sick smile. “It’s like I texted you. I did save you.”
She takes my hand, just like she always used to when everything was normal.
But it’s not normal anymore. Both of us visibly wince as our injured hands touch.
I should feel exhilarated. Paisley Horne wanted me to come. Paisley Horne thought of me.
But all I can think of is everything Beck and I talked about. I think about all the awful things she did to Beck.
I feel awful for everything Paisley’s been through.
I want to get her out of here, back to safety.
But when we thought she was dead, I didn’t have to figure out whether I wanted to forgive her.
Now, I don’t know. I don’t know if I ever want her to grab my hand and tell me she loves me ever again, even if everything else can go back to some version of normal.
“Why are we even discussing this?” Beck exclaims, jumping to her feet.
“Pais, I really don’t give a shit if you think this woman is a witch or is going to follow us.
She’s a fucking person and if we leave and return to Mom and Dad, you’re not gonna die.
The other guy is dead, so all we have to do is get away from the woman.
No one cares that much about you.” She grabs Paisley’s arm, her fingertips lined in dust. “So let’s go.
My car must be done by now. I don’t even care about our stuff. Let’s just go.”
My walkie-talkie goes off.
Everyone freezes, like the walkie sent a burst of negative energy through the room everyone can feel.
It’s Natalie.
“Hey Emma, did you ever find Evan? I called him and can’t get him on the line!”
We’ve run out of time to discuss options.
Shit. Natalie’s going to figure out Evan’s dead. She’ll know we’re onto her and Evan’s crimes. Adrenaline shoots through my veins.
I look to Beck, my face burning as the panic sets in. She has an iron grip on Paisley’s arm, Paisley slumped into her hand like a rag doll. “You’re right,” I say. “We need to go. Now.” I check my phone, but the bars are still nonexistent. “Can you check on the car?”
Beck removes her phone and takes a single twitchy breath. “Nothing’s loading, but the guy said a few days. I can—”
Beck turns to the door and Paisley springs to life. “No! You can’t leave me!” She turns on her toes, both her hands gripping Beck’s arm where Beck’s holding her. “You can’t leave me alone with the witch outside!” Tears brim in my friend’s eyes. “Please.”
Beck gives me a weary look.
I swallow, glancing out at the curtain-covered window.
I need to be the one to do it. “Okay,” I say. “Do you think they’ll give me the car?”
“If we get killed because some hick town mechanic won’t release my mom’s shitty car to you, then we were destined to die.”
I force myself to laugh a dry laugh as I set Beck and myself our own channel on the walkie-talkies.
I guess we never thought we’d separate and therefore never made one up until now.
The thought leaves a pain in my chest, but I keep going anyway.
Once Beck has her adjusted walkie, I grab my bag and check for my weapons.
My heart slams against my chest, somehow still able to kick up like a spooked horse after a weekend of nonstop terror.
I hand Beck Evan’s gun. “Here. You two need this more.”
Beck nods as I head out.
I can do this. I can go outside, run three blocks, and get the car. I’ve already saved us from Evan, survived his murder cabin with Beck, and found Paisley (even if Paisley kind of found us). I can be brave and reckless like final girls in the movies.
We’re going to survive this.
I open the motel door. I feel the soft sun on my face. I hear the thump of my shoes on the walkway as I head out of the motel lot. I smell fresh baking bread at a shop nearby. The town is coming to life again. The night is over.
We won’t be here another night.
Once the walk sign where Evan nearly caught us turns white, I start sprinting.