Page 220

My stomach turns.

“No.”

Behind me, the Harvest screams and I run toward the Ward House. I need Ward House.

Mariah.

Ali.

Kai.

Rhett.

I need all of them.

The farm has dissolved into chaos.

People sprint between burning tents while others shove past them in every direction, screaming for friends who can’t hear them. I nearly go down when my boot hits something slick.

The cider stand has been overturned.

Dark liquid spreads through the dirt in thick streams, pooling beneath people’s feet as they slip and scramble through it.

Except that isn’t fucking cider.

It’s too dark. Too thick.

A woman crawls through it on her hands and knees, laughing hysterically while another guest tries to drag her to her feet.

Then music cuts through the screaming.

I stop.

The band is still playing.

No. The instruments are.

There’s no one on the stage.

A guitar strums beneath the flashing lights with no hands touching the strings.

Then the drums begin to pound.

One. Two. Three.

Silence.

My pulse stutters.

One. Two. Three.

Silence.

I know that rhythm.

I’ve heard it in the maze.

Felt it beneath the ground. Felt it inside my own fucking body.