Hands reached for me. They were all over the place—paramedics, uniforms, I didn’t know. They talked over me, not to me.
“BP’s elevated.”
“Shock—”
“Get her seated…”
“I’m fine,” I snapped, even though I couldn’t feel my fingers. “Where’s Max? Did anyone see him leave the woods? Did he?—”
“We’re handling it,” one of them said smoothly, already turning away. “Just sit tight, okay?”
I grabbed his sleeve. “Handling what?”
He smiled the way people smile at scared kids. “We’ve got people on it.”
On what. No one would say the wordMaxback to me.
Jeremy’s hand closed around my arm again, gentler this time but no less firm. “Come on, Mackenzie. I’m taking you in.”
“In where?”
“Someplace safe,” he said.
I stared at him.
Nowhere was safe.
Jeremy put me on the back of his bike instead. It was thesame model he used to brag about back when we were kids, only darker now, sleeker, more government issue than reckless.
“Helmet,” he said, holding it out.
“I don’t need?—”
“I know you’re a fucking bad bitch and all, but sis, humor me.”
I snatched it from him and shoved it on, fingers clumsy. I swung my bandaged leg over the bike, the wrap on my leg now pulling tight enough to make my eyes water. The engine roared to life beneath us. The first jolt sent a dull ache pulsing through my leg. The woods, the cabins, the screaming in my head started to peel away behind us in a blur of dark and cold air as we hit the road.
I pressed my forehead against his back, eyes open, watching the road rush by under the edge of the visor. Every bump in the asphalt jarred my ribs and sent a slow, mean throb through my bandaged leg, but it felt distant, as if it were happening to someone else.
Over the wind, I shouted, “You didn’t answer me. Is he alive?”
Jeremy didn’t look back. “Hold on.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I know.”
The way he said it made my stomach drop.
Streetlights flicked past. A gas station. A closed diner. Normal life lined up along the road like a movie set someone had forgotten to shut down. No one was screaming. No one was bleeding. No one was playing a game with people’s lives.
It didn’t feel real.
I replayed every word Jeremy had said.
He’s in the game. He went all the way in. There are things I can’t tell you.
Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?
