My chest tightens. That amount of time might have sounded fast to me at one point. Now it sounds like an eternity. I can only imagine how it sounds to Imani.
Pam adds, “If I’m remembering right, the Class Fours … I’m pretty sure there are three of those left.”
I think back to the satellite phone. The potable water catastrophe. Even the spilled cooler and spoiled food at the beginning of the trip. I realize now that Bryan was probably the one responsible for each of those “accidents.” Not mistakes, but calculated moves to create chaos—and paint himself as a bumbling newbie—before delivering his deadly blows. Even now, he’s toying with us, milking the chase.
A new spark of anger flashes through my fear. He must have been planning this for a while now, patiently plotting all of this suffering and death.
“Wh-why the fuck is he doing this?” Imani suddenly asks through chattering teeth, her voice thick with anguish. It’s a question I’ve barely had time to consider.
I look over my shoulder again, clocking the position of Bryan’s raft. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to find him this time, but then I catch the faintest glimpse of neon green, persistently trailing.
Nobody answers Imani’s question for a minute, but I realize we’re all looking to Allie—suddenly eager to hear her Camas Creek theories. Because this nightmare has to be connected to what happened there seven years ago. I believe that now. I just don’t knowhowit’s connected.
And if anybody has ideas, Allie does.
She opens her mouth to speak then closes it again tightly, shaking her head back and forth like she’s struggling with where to start.
After a few long seconds, she lets out a shaky exhale. Then she says, “My mind has been spinning all night. I didn’t think anybody would want to hear it, though.”
“Hear what?” I ask, dread filling my chest.
“I’m pretty sure I have an idea of what’s going on here,” she says slowly. “And it’s really, really bad.”
“I wish there were more photos of Camas Creek. Oh well, that’s what AI is for! Smile for the camera, Stacy!!!”
*Warning: Image may contain mature content. Click to unblur.*
—Post by OneSadRealm, subreddit ER_Forever, 1.21.2024, 12:39 a.m.
23
Allie lowers her voice, even though it’s basically impossible for Bryan to hear us over the mutter of the smooth, dark river at this distance.
“I told you that I’m a moderator for that subreddit, right? The one about the Camas Creek murders?”
I nod as she shoots a glance over her shoulder and scans the void of the canyon, where Bryan is lurking. Gone is the conspiratorial tone I heard in her voice every time she mentioned Camas Creek before.
“We remember,” Imani prods through chattering teeth. “Keep talking.”
I shiver, forcing my aching arms to keep moving, preserving the pocket of space between our raft and Bryan’s. On the other side of the raft, Pam mirrors my movements. Allie and Deborah huddle on either side of Imani with their arms around her, still trying to warm her up.
Allie goes on. “There’s always some pretty active true-crime junkies on my subreddit, talking about the case. And conspiracy theories are super common for the notorious true-crime cases. Just look at JonBenét Ramsey. Some people swear she’s still alive, and not just alive, but freaking living it up asKaty Perry.”
I roll my eyes. “Yikes.”
Allie wrinkles her nose but keeps going. “A few years back, when that dumb movie came out, there were all kinds of Redditors insisting that Kellen Stroop was still alive. The media got involved, and there was so much public uproar that the investigators actually exhumed Kellen’s body to prove he was dead. Even then, some people refused to believe it. Like I said yesterday, I got sucked into that fucking rabbit hole for a while—”
“So you think that Bryan is somehow Kellen Stroop?” Pam interrupts impatiently, her voice high. “I thought you said he couldn’t be—”
“No,” Allie replies, shaking her head firmly, “although I definitely thought about that possibility a lot yesterday, when the satellite phone went missing. There’s a scene from the Lifemark movie where Kellen is staring down this poor rafter in the dark, with blood dripping down his arm, and it’s terrifying—”
I shoot her a look, unsure where this is headed. “Okay …”
Allie makes a frustrated noise. “Sorry, sorry. Hang with me, okay? I’m just trying to explain why I didn’t pay much attention to every conspiracy theory.” She meets my confused look, and I’m surprised to see genuine anguish in her eyes. “I still just feel like … like all of this is a little bit my fault.” Her voice wobbles, and she hurries to add, “I’m not trying to get sympathy. It’s just … everything is starting to make sense to me now.”
I try not to let my frustration show. None of this makes sense to me. Not a single thing. It’s only a matter of time before we’re facing the next rapids, and I want to know what we’re dealing with before then—so I know what our chances are.
“Just tell us what you know, hon,” Pam says gently. The fleece of her soggy purple sweatshirt is matted and smeared with Imani’s blood. “We won’t be mad at you. We’re all onthe same team here … We just want to get off this river somehow.”
