CHAPTER 4
“You look like shit,” Cody says as Carmen walks up to meet him in front of the Bowl-a-Rama. He’s much more casual today in black joggers and a Renbury High hoodie—it strikes her again, how young he is. Still in the throes of puberty, and he’s already had to face so much.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, wincing as a beam of sunlight cuts right into her vision, breaking through the branches of trees above.
It had been another long night. Carmen accidentally shut down The Rusty Saloon after learning house whiskey was on special for only three bucks a shot, and now she’s suffering the consequences from drinking so much of what tasted more like rubbing alcohol than even a bottom-shelf liquor. Still, once she gets going, it’s always been hard to stop. When her alarm clock buzzed an hour ago, a sweeping dread washed over her as she thought of Lacie and how disappointed she’d be at the state of her life.
The ugly truth is that it’s been months since Carmen went to bed sober. Months of drowning herself in the misery that consumes her heart after losing the one thing—onegirl—she loved more than anything else in the world.
“So, why are we here?” Carmen asks as she looks around, trying to distract herself from the thoughts pressing in.
Cody scratches his brow. He looks uncomfortable, like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world but here. “We uh . . . we were camping when it happened. There’s a river running back through these woods that Elijah liked to fish in.” His eyes dull at the nightmare that’s no doubt playing through his mind.
“Do you remember the date when it happened?” Carmen asks.
His eyes narrow. But then he shrugs. “Uh . . . it was Elijah’s birthday. October third.”
Carmen mentally calculates how long she has, realizing it’s less time than she anticipated. She blows out a breath. “Can you show me?”
Cody’s lips press together in a firm line. Going into those woods is clearly the last thing he wants to do . . . But then he nods once, a tight dip of his chin. “Follow me.”
Carmen trails him as he rounds to the back of the bowling alley and into the dense line of trees. He’d been right to tell her to wear her boots—the tangled brush isn’t easy to navigate through. Thorns scrape along Carmen’s cargo pants, tearing small holes through the material as she pushes further into the dense thicket. She has half a mind to go back to the motel for her longest machete, sharp enough to cut through this mess of bramble, but she knows if she delays this expedition at all it’s very likely Cody will pull out altogether. He’s here to show her the scene, to tell her what happened, and she needs to make sure he gets through it.
She eyes him now, noting the tightness in his shoulders and the way his hands are clenched into fists at his sides as he moves. He’s tense, his body winding tighter the further into the wooded land they go. She watches him and hopes he makes it to that river. Sheneedshim to show her where he and Elijahwere attacked—there’s no time to waste if she has any chance of stopping the threat before someone else gets hurt.
Carmen follows Cody through the trees for what feels like twenty minutes before he begins to slow. The unmistakable sound of running water sounds from somewhere ahead, beyond the trees that block a clear view of it. Cody suddenly stops, turning to look at her. “I don’t think I can go any further,” he says in a rush. His eyes are red-rimmed and shining, and Carmen’s chest squeezes.
“That’s okay,” she replies softly, assuring. “Is it just ahead?”
He nods. “There’s a yellow sign posted near the river. We camped right in front of it.”
Carmen reaches out a hand, wrapping her palm around his shoulder. “Thanks, Cody. I really appreciate your help.” He nods again, blowing out a breath as he scratches the inside of his elbow. It’s the first time Carmen notices it: a deep gash peeking from beneath his pushed-up sleeve. The sight of it sends her stomach lurching. “Can I see that?” she asks.
His eyes rise to meet hers, and he swallows. “What?”
“Your arm.”
He looks down at it, pulling the hem of his sleeve back a bit. “Uh, I guess.” Lifting his arm out between them, he lets Carmen get a better look at the wound. “It’s . . . from that night. Still hurts like a bitch.”
It’s not just one gash, but a trio of them—thankfully the mark of a claw and not teeth. The wounds are scabbed over, still in the process of healing, the skin around them raised and red in irritation. It’s a near-perfect match to the marks Carmen carries on her thigh, ones that have physically healed but are a constant reminder of what she endured. Her scars are pale now, and yet still prominent enough that she can feel them through her pants. And when she lays in bed at night, a deep aching pain flares to life from within them.
But she doesn’t tell Cody any of that. Instead, she looks up at him and sighs. “This shit is going to haunt you forever if you let it. Trust me, I know.” He opens his mouth to say something, but Carmen presses on. “Find a way to move on from it, if you can. And maybe don’t go camping in these woods anymore, although I’m going to try and make sure what happened to you and Elijah doesn’t happen to anyone else. Not here, anyway.”
He cocks his head, eyes narrowing. “You?”
Her mouth lifts in a smile. “I’m gonna choose not to take offense to that.”
“It’s just . . . how?”
Carmen shrugs. “The less you know, the better, I think.” She turns to look ahead, toward the river she can hear in the distance. “Could you walk me through what happened? As best as you can?”
His eyes shutter closed. He takes a deep breath, and then says, “It came from across the river. We’d just put out our fire and gotten into our tents for the night. Elijah snuck a few beers in his camp bag, so we were both a little buzzed. At first, I thought I was just hearing things. There was an odd scuffling, a sound I couldn’t place. But it definitely sounded like it was coming from the other side of the river.”
Carmen presses her lips together tightly, considering. “Did you look out of your tent to try and get a look at what it was?”
Cody shakes his head. “I guess I figured it might just be some curious critter getting a look at our camp . . . I thought it would eventually go away. And when I didn’t hear it anymore, I thought it had.” He scrubs a hand across his face. “I don’t know what happened next, or how it got to this side of the river. But the next thing I heard was Elijah’s screams.” A tear spills down his cheek, and Carmen’s heart breaks for these boys. For these friends, torn apart so viciously. Cody looks at her, determination flooding through the tears. “I tried to stop it,” he rasps. “I tried to pull thewolf off of him, but it was so strong, and when Elijah’s screaming stopped, I knew it was too late. So I ran . . . like a coward, Iran.”
Carmen reaches for his hand, squeezing. “You did what you could, Cody. And you kept yourself alive. No one else has survived this, butyoudid.”
