She put the flashlight under her chin and flicked it on. She knew she’d look especially ghoulish with her makeup smudged under her eyes. Mom was always trying to get her to buy the expensive waterproof stuff, but it was more fun to look cheap.
“Or maybe it’s me,” she said in an ominous voice. “MaybeI’mthe killer. Because I’m into morbid goth shit.”
A look of alarm flashed across Patrick’s face. “You’re scaring me a little, Jen.”
She turned the flashlight off. If her hands hadn’t been full, she would’ve cracked her knuckles. “Yup. Still got it.”
“This is ridiculous. None of us are killers. No one’s even been killed yet.”
“You said it.Yet.That’s exactly the kind of slip the real killer would make.”
“You know what I mean. This is all circumstantial. Freddy saw someone cosplaying as the Slasher, which is not exactly shocking around here. Tiffany panicked while swimming. You saw RangerRuss across the lake, doing his job. He showed up at the cabin,doing his job.”
Jen’s mouth pinched. It all sounded very reasonable, except Patrick was forgetting one thing. One major thing. “The tires. You forgot the tires. Someone’s trying to trap us at the cabin. And honestly—”
Jen flicked the flashlight on again, shining the beam directly into Patrick’s face as if she were interrogating him. He cringed and shielded his eyes.
“Honestly,you’rethe only one who keeps insisting we stay put at the fucking cabin.”
She turned off the flashlight, meaning to say something else irreverent, but the words died in her throat. She hadn’t considered Patrick suspicious, but now that she’d said it out loud—
She didn’t really think Patrick was violent, but he’d been desperate to keep them all at the cabin. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine him stabbing their tires. Maybe he’d used the missing kitchen knife.
No. That was impossible. This was Patrick, for fuck’s sake, who always played by the rules.
Although he’d never liked having his plans disrupted. What lengths would he go to in order to make their reunion perfect?
Patrick didn’t laugh or utter a single word of protest at her accusation. He unshielded his eyes and they continued to pick their way through the woods in heavy silence. He was probably tired of her shtick. Unease began to churn in her gut. She regretted turning off the flashlight, although she didn’t want to turn it back on in case creepy Russ was looking for them. Or Carrie’s stalker ex, Daniel.
Patrick had been reduced to a silhouette, a faithful shadow keeping pace with her. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, but their path had taken them to a part of the woods where the trees grew thicker and taller, closing over their heads, blocking out the indigo glow of the sky. Jen’s breathing grew louder, either from the silence, or the effort of keeping her overactive imagination at bay.
Patrick finally spoke. “We should’ve hit the old fire tower by now,” he said, confusion lacing his voice. “Can I see the compass?”
Jen took it out of her shorts pocket and handed it to him. He pointed his flashlight on it and wiggled it around. “Shit,” he said. “We’re going in the wrong direction. We’re headed straight north.”
Jen blew out a breath, glad for the opportunity to lighten the mood. “Took you this long to notice? Gotta revoke your Boy Scout badge. I was wrong. You’re not Velma, you’re Scooby. Because you’re so loyal. You followed me without question. Unless—” She shone her flashlight under her chin again and dropped her voice. “Unless it’s becauseyou’re a psycho killer.”
“I’m not a killer!” he said exasperatedly.
“That’sexactlywhat a psycho killer would say.”
Patrick balled his fists at his waist. “Oh yeah? Then why are we headed north instead of northwest like Jason said? Are you trying to lure me somewhere? Because that’s what a psycho killer would do.”
Jen cackled. Patrick was adorable when he was mad. “Jason thought Freddy and Tiff would bail on the manhunt, but never suspected little ol’ me of having the same idea.”
“Jen!” Patrick said hotly.
“If we keep going north, we’ll hit the highway, and then I’m checking into the Cedar Lake Motel. You with me?”
“Does your plan include getting help for the others?” Patrick raised a judgmental eyebrow.
Jen thought about it. For two whole seconds. And then decided the rest of her friends could wander the woods all night for not having the good sense to let Mikey fend for himself.
“Maaaybe,” she declared.
Patrick touched her arm. “Jen. I know you’ve got a heart in there underneath all that bluster.”
He was trying to appeal to the better angels of her nature, but he’d forgotten she was devils all the way down.
