Page 10 of Five Survive

“Iamgood at everything,” Simon answered. “Except being humble.”

There was no one else on the road. No passing headlights, no red glow of brake lights up ahead. Red stared out the windshield, concentrated.

“When’s the turn?” Reyna asked.

“Not yet,” Red answered, her eyes now following the highlighted road on Arthur’s screen, no blue dot to guide them, trying to match it with the darkness outside.

“Wouldn’t trust Red with directions,” Maddy said.

“Hey.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like you’re ever on time, is it?”

Red leaned back to look at Maddy perching on the booth, head resting on the bed of her knuckles. “I’ll have you know,” she said, “that everyone else was later than me this morning. I was first by like ten whole minutes.”

Maddy looked sheepish, biting one lip.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Red knew it wasn’t nothing.

“Maddy, what?”

“I, um, I told you we were meeting at our house at nine. But I told everyone else we were meeting at ten.”

“You told me a whole hour earlier?” Red said, and why did it sting that she had? It was a lie, yes, but it was a considerate lie. Maddy knew Red would be late: she didn’t know all the reasons why, but she knew the end result and that was the same, wasn’t it?

“So technically, you were fifty minutes late and everyone else was on time.”

“I missed the bus,” Red said, which wasn’t true: she spent the last of her change on her dad’s favorite cereal and then walked the whole way, bag wheeling behind her.

“Ha, look, that road’s called Wagon Wheel Road,” Simon snorted, pointing at the screen.

“Is that the right I make?” Reyna asked, hand darting to the turn signal, though there was no one to signal for.

No, it wasn’t here.

“No, no, no,” Arthur said quickly. “It’s the next one. I think.”

Reyna sped up again, following the road as it curved around.

“Wagon Wheel.” Simon was still chuckling to himself.

“Here, this right,” Oliver said, taking charge. “Turn, Reyna.”

“I’m turning,” she said, the faintest trace of irritation in her voice. Too many cooks. Which made Reyna, what? A spoon? The Lavoys had fancy spoons at their house: pearly handles and no stains.

There was a new sound, joining with the wind as it rushed against the sides of the RV: a rasping noise beneath them. The road wasgrowing rougher, gravelly, the RV lurching as it rolled down. There were no more yellow markings, no moremy laneandyour lane,and from the light of the high beams Red could see rows and rows of trees standing either side, silent sentinels on the dead-of-night road.

She felt watched, which was stupid; trees didn’t have eyes. But neither did doors, yet her mom used to stick googly ones on Red’s so she felt safe in her bed in the dar— No, stop, she needed to concentrate on where they were going.

“Looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Maddy commented from her perch, cupping her hands around her eyes so she could look out the side window.

“As is the campsite, so we’re good,” Oliver replied.

The RV staggered as it hit a pothole.