“Sorry, what?”
She looks frustrated but repeats herself. “Stay tomorrow, and depending on weather we can leave the day after. Lead me up to the cabin where I can wring my brother’s neck. With love.”
“They might have gone back to Faraway.” I don’t believe that, though.
Cara probably knows I don’t and frowns at me. “Andrew said he was going to the cabin.”
That still gets me. I have no idea why he would go back to the cabin instead of waiting for me here. Maybe because he knew that if I didn’t come here, I might have still been out there. But if I didn’t come back to the cabin, it meant I was dead. If he had just waited a little longer, though, we could have gone up together. Unless he wasn’t ready to see me yet.
“What if he took everyone else to Faraway before he went back to the cabin?”
“The KidleftFaraway to chase after them,” Cara reminds me. “And Taylor chose to leave Jamar, which is how he ended up following us.”
Niki shakes her head, still angry at Jamar, but I feel like she also might respect his decision. As long as it doesn’t get either of them killed.
“Okay,” I say. “We’ll rest here tomorrow, then head for the cabin the next day.”
But the following night, it starts snowing.
Andrew
WE WALK ABOUT FOUR MILES BEFORE THEguy tells us to turn up a driveway of cracked asphalt. A half mile later, the thick woods surrounding the road open onto structured rows of leafless trees as far as the eye can see. The driveway turns to dirt and stone, but we continue walking.
My face throbs with pain, but my nose and the scratch below my eye have stopped bleeding. The Kid holds my good hand while I keep the bad one pulled close to my chest. The pain seems to be coming from everywhere in my body.
I turn to Taylor and whisper, “I need a fucking vacation.”
The look she returns says,Seriously? You’re joking about that now?I shrug because what can I say, it’s true.
There are what look like seven housing structures on the property, which I’m now starting to assume is a farm of some kind given the cute little farmhouse that shall be known as structure number one. There’s also a big, weathered wood barn that’s a dead giveaway. But the other structures look like modular homes joined together by wood beams as an afterthought. Each has a steel chimney emitting white smoke. A few faces look out the windows at us.
Someone emerges from the farmhouse, coming to a stop at the top of the porch steps. They watch us for a bit before they turn around and duck back into the farmhouse, then come out again. This time they walk down the steps and approach us.
It’s an older Southeast Asian man with short white hair and a clean-cut white beard.
“What the hell happened, Jeff?” the man asks.
“They were breaking into the restaurant downtown.”
The man looks confused, then shakes his head. “Marnie’s? What the hell would they have taken? We took everything of use over a year ago.” He points at my injuries, then looks back at Jeff the Jerkoff. “And I’m assuming this is your fault?”
“They’re not from around here,” Jeff says.
“Guess the accent gave it away, huh?” I ask.
The older guy laughs, then walks up to Jeff and holds out his hand. “Give me the gun.” Jeff hands it over and he pulls the bolt. I watch as his eyes go wide. “Where’d you get the round?”
“That’s mine,” I say. “The ammo, but the whole rifle, too.”
Taylor steps forward and holds out Jeff’s empty rifle. “This one is his.”
The man takes it, thanking her, then throws it to Jeff. “Go back to your bunk, wait there.”
“But—”
“Now!”
Without another word, Jeff hunches over and heads to one of the modular homes. The man looks at me in the dying afternoon light and winces.
