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Noemi would sit there and commiserate and empathize, but the one thing she couldn’t do? Truly understand, because that would imply having shared their experience. She also had to be very careful not to feel too smug, for the same reason.

Caleb always knew what she needed, sometimes before she knew it herself. After the accident, he’d stayed at her side after calling 911. He’d helped phone her mother while she’d been trapped in that car, and he’d held her hand as she cried, terrified she was going to die. He hadn’t given empty reassurances—she’d have hated that—but he’d let her cry while repeating that help was coming and she was breathing and alert and that was all good.

He’d held her hand all the way to the hospital. When she’d passed in and out of consciousness, he’d been able to tell her everything the paramedics said. Then, during her hospital stay, he visited every day, ready to only drop things off if that’s what she needed or to sit with her if that’s what she needed. He brought the novel she’d been reading. He lent her his tablet and downloaded the show she’d been watching. And the whole time, she’d known it must be temporary—just a nice guy being kind to the girl who got hurt.

Even afterward, when they grew closer and “friends” turned into more, Noemi kept waiting for him to change. He’d liked her, so he’d gone out of his way to be understanding, to figure out what she wanted. Once he had her, that consideration would slip.

It never did. And that became the test of Noemi’s friendships. Did they understand why she picked Caleb? Why she was crazy about him? Why she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him? Or did they look askance at him and say “You can do better”? Her own mother’s first reaction had been to take Noemi aside and tell her she didn’t need to feel obligated to a boy who’d been kind. But once she got to know Caleb, she understood.

So when Noemi worried about the elderly man, the one who’d been dragged into the forest, how much had it hurt Caleb not to go after him? To stop her from going after him?

Caleb knew what she wanted, and he wanted to give it to her, but common sense had overridden that, because he might be the nicest and most considerate boyfriend in the world, but he wasn’t a fool. And he was the best judge of character she knew. He’d looked at Henry and realized that if the elderly man could be saved, Henry would be the first out that door.

But telling her “no” still hurt. It had to have hurt. So when that guy flew through the window, when he was lying on the ground, dying, when Noemi carelessly said “We need to help him,” Caleb saw a way to redeem himself.

It didn’t matter if the guy dying on the ground was the man who hurt her. It didn’t matter if he’d been dead and buried for four years. She said “We need to help him” and Caleb decided this was a thing he could do. Make up for not searching for the old man. After all, this guy was right there.

She’d been careless. Hadn’t her father warned her about that with Caleb? When someone wants to make you happy, you need to be careful what you ask for.

Noemi asked Caleb to help her find the old man, and when he couldn’t do that, she wanted to save the other man, and he could not deny her twice.

She thinks about what happened to him. What she saw, and as horrible as it had been, the worst was when Caleb’s face appeared in the monster’s haunch, when he’d opened his eyes and seen her and smiled.

In that moment, it was as if he’d woken from a nightmare. His worst nightmare, about that creature from The Thing consuming him. But then he woke up and she was there, and everything was all right.

Noemi retches into the long grass. Crouched on all fours, she vomits until there’s nothing left to vomit, and then she keeps gagging. Only when her throat is raw does she sit back on her haunches, wipe her streaming eyes, and peer around.

She’s in a clearing. The others are nowhere to be seen, and for a second, she’s glad of that. She doesn’t want them here. Doesn’t want their sympathy. She just wants to curl up in a ball and sob.

But then those last moments in the bar return. That asshole in the suit—isn’t it always an asshole in a suit?—jumping at the chance to murder them all.

She does not, for one second, wish she’d agreed when she had that chance. Kill people? Good people? She isn’t even sure she could have killed the asshole. No, like Ellie, for Noemi that choice wasn’t even an option. And the bartender wouldn’t even let Henry speak because he knew the paramedic would pretend to take the offer to protect the others. Part of her wishes she’d thought of that, but let’s be honest, she couldn’t have pulled off the ruse.

Now she’s alone out here, and after those early moments of grief and relief, being alone is not what she wants. She wants Henry’s solid presence and compassion. She wants common sense and grit from Ellie, the one person who’d stood up to the bartender.

But she doesn’t have either, and she doesn’t have Caleb—

She stops that reminder.

Don’t think of Caleb. Focus on herself, and maybe, if she gets through this horror, if she survives, he will, too. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? Their fates are entwined, and if she can escape it, they both will.

A little voice whispers that’s not how this works, but Noemi silences it. The possibility will keep her going.

She looks around for Raymond, but the forest is silent. He must have gone after the others first. If Noemi channels her most devious side, she’d choose Henry as the first victim. Get the big guy out of the way before he finds you.

What Noemi needs to do is find one of them. Both, preferably. Together, the three of them would have no problem facing off against a middle-aged guy in a suit. Which is why the bartender separated them.

Noemi creeps to the nearest trees and then straightens. She looks around and listens. Complete silence, which means no Raymond, but it also means no Ellie or Henry.

Just start walking. If the bartender is right about this being … What did he call it? A pocket universe? She has no idea what that means, but the idea seems to be that it’s very small. So all she needs to do is walk.

She gets about five steps before she hears the softest crack of a twig underfoot. She spins, but no one’s there. Her imagination then.

She continues walking. Another crack, and this time, she ignores it and counts to three before turning. A figure dives behind a tree.

Noemi stands there, heart pounding.

That wasn’t Raymond.