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I place my hand on my neck… A trickle of blood seeps onto my fingers. So meticulous not to have killed me. A small drop of that blood rolls down my neck and drips to the ground beneath me.

“Looks like you get to live today, London,” he says, observing me as I watch the crimson stain the seat.

Do I want to live?

Even if he hasn’t killed me, I will still have a scar from what he just did, leaving more permanent marks on me. I wrap my hand around my neck to stop the stinging pain. But I can breathe, and at least, I have a new source of pain to focus on so I can ignore the ones in my heart and hand.

Nigel steps back. “Time to go. Get up,” he says abruptly.

My head whips up, and my eyes narrow.

Go? Go where? I just assumed this was where they were living.

I laugh again… I can’t walk. I can barely breathe, so I just laugh silently to myself.

The wind howls around me.

“What if he comes after her today and follows us?” Ezra asks. “This is the most obvious place to look for her.”

“He won’t,” Nigel quips. “Not if he found Naomi. Last I saw, she was waiting for him at the lake site. I doubt he will leave her to die. He will have to choose between Naomi and London, and then our dear London will finally see what kind of person he is and, hopefully, make the right decision.”

Ezra curls his lips at the mention of Naomi. I can’t put my finger on what happened between them exactly—if Naomi left by herself or if they had planned this to lure us out of pure desperation.

Nigel rolls his eyes at Ezra’s emotional response to her. “Relax. I’m sure your dear girlfriend is doing just fine.” This does nothing to calm Ezra down. He’s vibrating, pulsating in anger like he would whenever Micah used Naomi to taunt him.

I pull myself to my knees as Nigel walks away, prepping for us to leave the airplane. His words hit me then as I wonder just what kind of state they left Naomi in. And if Micah would really choose Naomi over me.

The fact that he isn’t here right now answers my question and also explains why it took him so long to come back to me when he had promised he would only be gone for a few hours.

Nigel pushes the airplane door open and heads outside while Ezra helps me to my feet. “Move,” he orders.

Begrudgingly, I follow, keeping my face emotionless, not allowing myself to feel.

The sun settles in the sky. That hint of smoke still teases the air, and Nigel looks at me with a sly smirk as he passes me. “Let’s go home, shall we? Ladies first.”

A sick feeling pools in my stomach. Ezra ignores me and trails behind, knowing I don’t have the energy to run away from him. I stare into the dead forest. One small step at a time, my feet connect with stone, and we head north. Something tells me that, no matter what, this is the beginning of the end, and the airplane was a sanctuary compared to where I’m going.

Every bone and muscle screams at me as I follow the two boys through the barren wilderness.

One evil, one stupid—both desperate.

We walk in silence through the charred skeleton trees, the barren land discomposed by the destruction that occurred here. The island this far north is dangerous. Much more so than the airplane or the lusher forest Micah and I briefly called home.

I drag myself forward, now wishing Ezra would carry me. My skin is on fire as I try to keep up, burning up with a fever from the scrapes and pulled flesh on my hand. My body has endured too much.

It’s starting to break down.

Withering away.

Beat by beat, my heart is slowing.

A rhythmic buzz teases the air, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is…

Ezra pauses to take a sip of water, the very last of it, before filling up his bottle with melted snow pooling on the ground. It’s skanky water we have no business drinking. Even now, Micah’s deep voice is in the back of my mind, lecturing me.

If you have the choice between drinking or not drinking water, drink it. You will one hundred percent die if you don’t, okay? London! Baby, it’s important that you pay attention to this; it might save your life one day.

All the words of wisdom Micah shared with me all winter, relaying all his expertise about surviving out here. Preparing me for when he wouldn’t be here to take care of me, as if he knew this would happen eventually. My mouth salivates at the thought of drinking, and my heart breaks at the thought of him.