Page 7

Silence.
Could it be some appliance thunking as it kicks on? The air-conditioning or plumbing?
Maybe I imagined the noise and I’m just letting paranoia cross my wires. Maybe—
No, I hear it now.
Laughter.
Blaring like a loud movie, followed by an explosion that bursts color over my eyelids.
Screaming, I leap back until my hip bangs the island, stuffing the towel in my mouth to stay quiet.
Yep.
Someone’s here to blow me up.
I thought axes and knives were bad enough, but no, it’s some intruder freak armed withexplosives.
Did Holden send them? Some kinda weird assassins hellbent on wiping me out because I had the audacity to flee from his clutches right before his coronation?
No, that can’t be right.
He doesn’t even know I’mhere.
Despite myself, I see faces splattered with blood and creepy crooked smiles painted on oversized masks. Like every good horror movie, maybe they’re brandishing a gun or two.
I’m so ready for a total nightmare.
What I’m not expecting is two young boys to push the sliding back door open and come running inside, their hair mussed and eyes bewildered.
I finally remember to stop screaming.
A teenage girl follows them, stopping with her hands on her hips when she sees me.
Unlike the boys, who freeze up and trade worried glances, she seems irritated and rolls her heavily outlined eyes.
“Shit, Colt,” she says. “I thought you said this place was free for the weekend?”
I blink, sizing them up slowly.
The boys are lanky like they’ve just hit their early teenage growth spurt, all thin arms they haven’t grown into yet. The girl, she’s aiming for a more mature look with the heavy makeup, but she can’t quite pull it off.
If I had to guess, they might be thirteen or fourteen.
“That just fucking figures,” one of the boys says. Colt, I presume. He looks like a sweet kid, and despite the language, his eyes are round and worried behind his black framed glasses as he looks at me. “Um… I’m really sorry, ma’am. We must—this is the wrong place. Obviously. There’s another cabin down the road, and I guess we just got confused? Right, Bree?”
He shoots the girl a desperate look.
“Yeah, confused. Whatever.” The girl shrugs.
I’m calling crap.
This road looks like the end of nowhere. We’re practically sitting in the woods. And they’re so young—high schoolers, maybe not even that.
Summoning my courage, I march over to the sliding door they came through and slam it hard enough to make the glass quiver.
Outside, the solar lights illuminate a grocery bag on the deck with what looks like a fireworks stash.