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Nightfall Page 6


  Aydin just stared at the flames, the light dancing across his face.

  “She knows Will,” Taylor said.

  “Does she?” Aydin looked over his shoulder at Will. “Is she family? Please say it isn’t so.”

  Will hung back, his hands in his pocket again as he leaned into the crates. The fire reflected in his gaze as he stared at me.

  “Will,” I pleaded.

  But he remained quiet.

  “He doesn’t seem to know you,” Aydin teased.

  I shook my head. “There must be some way to get a hold of security or the people who run this place or—”

  Aydin pulled out the steak, sizzling on the tray, and set it on the wooden table, grabbing a knife and fork and cutting the meat.

  “We have a kitchen, of course, but the meat is so much better cooked down here.” He looked at me, bidding me over. “You must be hungry. We’re not completely uncivilized. Come here.”

  He took a pitcher and poured a glass of water, and my mouth dried even more, seeing how good it looked.

  “Your name?” he asked, pushing the glass and pan toward me.

  I clamped my mouth shut.

  But Will spoke up for me. “Her name is Emory Scott,” he answered.

  I shot Will a glare. A smirk danced across his eyes.

  “From Thunder Bay, as well?” Aydin asked him.

  And Will nodded.

  Taylor took back his spot, sitting on the crates behind him and hanging over Will’s shoulder again as everyone watched me.

  I stepped a little closer to Will, too angry to care right now.

  “Always following,” I taunted him. “Never the leader, and always latching on to anyone who loves you.”

  He stared at me.

  “Your friends have moved on,” I told him. “Buying up Thunder Bay. Starting families. Probably happy to be rid of their weakest link.” My eyes burned on him. “Even Damon seems happy, judging from the news I catch from home. No falter in his steps as he does just fine without you.”

  The muscles in his jaw flexed, and I smiled a little.

  Yeah, he didn’t like that.

  “Damon…” Aydin murmured, looking over to Will. “Torrance?”

  Will remained silent.

  “And Michael Crist and Kai Mori, right?” Aydin continued. “I would be jealous you have people who care enough to send help if it weren’t a female a year too late.”

  Everyone chuckled.

  No one sent me. Someone kidnapped me.

  “Took them long enough,” Taylor added. “And we’ve been here the whole time, taking care of him.”

  “He’s ours now,” Aydin told me. “The senator’s grandson has elevated his company, my dear. We’re not toys playing at war.”

  “No, you’re prisoners playing like you have any power.”

  He nodded once, unfazed. “We’ll revisit that topic again another time. Eat.”

  The food sat there, the smell permeating the air, and I saw Micah staring at it more than once.

  Aydin dug into his steak, taking a bite. Where was their food? I looked at Will, but he still just stared at me.

  “I’m not staying here for a month,” I said.

  Aydin continued eating and took a drink of water, washing it down.

  “Things happen fast in the wild,” he said, cutting another chunk. “Hunting, fishing, hiking, remote as we are…a simple injury can mean death.” He raised his eyes to me. “A simple injury can leave you in a lot of pain.”

  He chewed his food and then pushed his plate away, swallowing.

  “Micah had an anxiety attack when he first arrived,” he explained, looking at the guy. “Remember that? We had to put him down here for a whole day, because his hysteria was driving us insane.”

  I shot my eyes to Micah, his gaze on the floor now. They locked him in here? Because he had a panic attack? He could’ve died.

  I begged Will with my eyes, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He wasn’t looking at anything anymore, staring at the floor, same as Micah.

  “I’d hate for that to happen to you at the wrong time,” Aydin said, approaching me. “When the crews show up again, you could be down here, in the tunnels, undetected until they came again the next month.”

  My heart sank to my stomach, and while I had no clue why the rest of them were locked up in here, I had a very good idea about what made him such a threat.

  He stepped up to me, and now the guys behind him weren’t laughing so much anymore.

  “You’ll stay with us,” Aydin whispered. “We’ll take care of you until they arrive.”

  I looked up at him, the dark brown in his amber eyes sharpening with the threat.

  “I want to see Will alone,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm.

  Aydin looked over at Will. “Is there anything you can hear that we can’t?”

  Will’s eyes darted from me to him, hesitating a moment before replying, “No.”

  Aydin turned, smirking, and I knew.

  I knew…

  I couldn’t stay here. There was a town nearby. If I had to walk for three days until my body nearly expired from dehydration, I’d find it.

  Slowly, I circled around Aydin, backing up and keeping my eyes on the boys as I made my way toward the door. “You want some fun?” I asked Taylor. “Five-minute head start then.”

  He grinned wide, looking to Aydin and then back to me. “Two,” he cooed.

  He hopped off the crates, Will, Rory, and Micah turning to face me as Aydin stood in the back, waiting.

  And then…

  I launched for the door, swinging it open and racing through, charging up the old stone stairs and through the door at the top.

  They howled behind me, lighting a fire under my feet, and I swung around, not knowing where the front door to the house was from here, but I saw the kitchen and ran for it.

  Swinging around the large island, I bolted for the back door and charged through, leaping onto the grass, immediately stumbling to my knees and rolling down the small wet hill, darkness looming everywhere.

  Ice seeped through my skin.

  He was right. It was cold.

  Scrambling to my feet, I dug in my heels and ran. I ran and ran, not risking a look back as I made for the cover of the trees ahead.

  Gasping for breath, I glanced to my left, seeing a huge ass waterfall gushing over a cliff. I slowed, widening my eyes as it rose high above and the balconies of the house overlooked it.

  My God. I kept running, not believing what I was seeing. Where the hell was I?

  The waterfall spilled into a ravine I couldn’t see, but I just shook my head and ran so hard my body screamed. Diving into the darkened woods, I raced through the brush. I wished I wasn’t wearing a white shirt.

  I rounded trees, deciding to stay close to the edge of the forest where the land spilled off to the side. Good chance there was a river below that carried the water from the fall, and where there was water, there were towns.

  Stumbling over rocks as branches whipped at my arms, I barely even bothered to look ahead as I pushed my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, the knife still in my hand as I struggled for air.

  It was fucking cold. Where were we? It was only mid-October, there was a waterfall in their backyard, and trees that didn’t belong anywhere I’d ever lived.

  Canada? There were hemlocks, spruces, white pines… These trees were partial to the northeastern part of North America.

  I had been part of a design team right out of college that renovated an old house in St. John. The owner was adamant about re-introducing native flora to the property.

  God, how did I get here?

  Hollers went off behind me, hitting the air, and I whimpered. They were coming.

  I dug in harder, sweat coating my back despite the cold as their howls got closer and closer, and I could almost feel their hands on me as I raced. I hit the ground, scurrying behind a bush to hide myself.

  I couldn’t stop gasping for breath, m
y heart about to beat out of my chest. I wasn’t going to make it, outrunning them.

  I’d hide until they gave up, and then I’d make a run for it.

  Leaves rustled and footfalls pounded past. I didn’t see them through the bush, but I could hear them.

  They ran, their steps fading away, and I stayed rooted in my spot.

  “Em-ory!” they called, but their voices were nowhere near me.

  I smiled.

  “Emmmmmoryyyyyyy!” they sang.

  And still, their voices sank farther and farther away.

  Slowly, I slipped the knife into my pocket, got my feet under me, and rose enough to look over the edge of the bush, just to sneak a glance at their position.

  I didn’t see anyone. Yes.

  I’d hide here—or somewhere else if I had to—and make my escape when they were gone. The grounds were huge. They couldn’t cover every inch.

  I was getting out of here—rain or shine.

  I squatted back down to maintain my hiding place, but then I caught sight of Micah, racing right for me.

  “Boo!” he shouted.

  I screamed and lost my balance, flailing my arms and flying backward. I rolled down the small incline and grappled at the ground to stop myself, but I just kept slipping.

  Shit!

  I cried out, my legs falling over the edge of something, and I tumbled over the side of the cliff, a hand grabbing my wrist just in time.

  I kicked and looked down, seeing the river far below as I swung my other hand up, grasping for whoever had me.

  “Rory!” Micah shouted, sliding on his ass with me as he held on. “Taylor!”

  I whimpered, feeling us slide. He was coming with me. He couldn’t hold on.

  Another body dropped down next to him, and Rory grabbed my other arm.

  I hung there as they held onto me, knowing they could let go at any moment, and not so sure anymore that I’d rather risk starvation or dying of exposure out in the wilderness. Don’t let me go.

  Taylor, Will, and Aydin slid down the hill behind them and came to stand over the three of us. Aydin looked as calm as he did inside the house like he didn’t even have to break a sweat to come out here after me.

  He cocked his head, watching me dangle there. “Put her in my room,” he told them.

  Emory

  Nine Years Ago

  “What did you do in lit class yesterday?”

  Elle Burkhardt pulled on her uniform trousers, staring at me while I pulled off my necktie and started unbuttoning my shirt.

  My long-sleeved white T-shirt underneath remained on as I snatched my band jacket off the hanger dangling on the outside of my locker.

  The girls’ locker room was packed—cheerleading, band, and the field hockey team all vying for space, either trying to get out to the court or go home.

  “I finished reading Lolita,” I mumbled to her.

  “You know what I mean.”

  I shot her a look.

  I’d skipped lit this morning, no doubt another confrontation with my brother waiting to happen tonight once he found out, but I just couldn’t face Will and his merry band of morons this morning after my outburst yesterday.

  I’d hid in the library, instead.

  “Let them do their worst while they can,” I said, pulling on my coat, the heavy fabric grazing my back and burning the skin. “Life will eventually knock them down to size, like it does to us all.”

  It wasn’t that I was scared of the Horsemen and the repercussions of calling them out in class yesterday. I just knew another outburst from me couldn’t happen again quite yet, so rather than give them the satisfaction of seeing me shut up and sit there, I just didn’t show up at all.

  Gathering all of my hair, I pulled it into a low ponytail and picked up my glasses off the bench, slipping them back on. The poster across the locker room came into view more clearly.

  Vote for Ari!

  Homecoming Queen

  Homecoming. I groaned. Pretty sure slamming my nipple in a car door would be less painful.

  Or joining a gym.

  Or reading The Bell Jar in between bouts of banging my head on a wall.

  Elle reached into her locker and took out her deodorant, rolling it on. “You’re coming to Sticks tonight, right?”

  Kicking off my sneakers, I pulled my newly pressed pants off the hanger and slipped them on before unzipping my skirt and letting it fall to the floor. “What do you think?”

  “Too school for cool?”

  I nodded, slipping my pants on and fastening them. The girl knew me.

  Leaning over, I jerked my chin at her and opened her locker door, gesturing to the Trojan bumper sticker she had plastered inside. “Some of us don’t have parents with the admissions office at USC on speed dial.”

  We buttoned up our navy blue and white coats, but I could feel her eyes on me as she braided her blonde hair and I slipped on my black shoes.

  “You’re allowed to relax once in a while.” Her voice was calm but firm. “The rest of us aren’t less because we like to have fun, you know?”

  “Depends on your idea of fun, I guess.”

  I sat down and started tying my shoes, but then I saw her stop, and I paused, realizing how that came out.

  I looked up at her, kind of wincing. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean that.”

  Damn, I was rude. Why was I so awful? Elle and I weren’t friends, but we were friendly. She tried, despite how hard I made it.

  “And I have fun,” I teased. “Who says I don’t have fun?”

  She continued braiding her hair. “Depends on your idea of fun, I guess,” she shot back.

  I laughed, thankful she was playing back. I knew how I was. Judgy, rude, and close-minded, but I also knew why.

  I was jealous.

  Happy people didn’t hurt others, and while I didn’t dwell on my behavior in lit yesterday with Will and his friends, people like Elle didn’t deserve it.

  I wanted someone to understand me.

  “Have you ever seen a Lamborghini commercial on TV?” I asked, looking over and meeting her eyes.

  She shook her head.

  “They don’t make them,” I told her. “Because people who can afford Lamborghinis aren’t sitting around watching television.”

  “So, you want a Lamborghini someday, and that’s why you work so hard and don’t have any fun?”

  “No.” I chuckled, gathering my school uniform scattered on the floor. “My own private jet will get me out of this town a hell of a lot faster than a car. I’ll wave goodbye and let it all disappear in my wake.”

  The cheer team ran by our aisle, everyone starting to make their way out to the gym. The football team was on a bye week, but the basketball team had an exhibition game against Falcon’s Well.

  “I’ll try not to take that remark personally,” Elle replied.

  I shot her a smile, hoping she didn’t take it personally. I wanted as far away from this town as possible for several reasons, and once I left, only one thing would ever bring me back.

  “Is there nothing you love in Thunder Bay?” she asked.

  I dropped my eyes for a moment and then looked over at her. “Why do you think I’m still here?”

  And then I opened my locker and flashed her the inside of my door, but instead of my own Trojan bumper sticker, or any bumper sticker, it was a single, three-by-five snapshot of my grandma and me at my eleventh birthday picnic in the park.

  My skin in my blue tank top was darker than my usual olive from all my time in the sun that summer, my cheeks rosy from smiling and not having a care in the world other than what I was going to do for fun the next day, and no matter what size glasses I wore, they always looked too big for my face. I was geeky and happy, and remembering that woman in the picture resembled nothing like the woman who was lying in bed at home right now made my throat prickle with tears.

  But I looked at Elle and smiled small, my grandma the one thing I’d come back to town for.
/>   In fact, the idea of leaving for college and leaving her if she was still alive by then was almost unbearable.

  I rubbed my eyes under my glasses and then stuffed my school clothes into the locker.

  I looked up, noticing something.

  What was that? I narrowed my eyes, reaching up and taking the stuffed animal off the top shelf.

  I paused in confusion. How did this get in here?

  I looked around for anyone watching me and met Elle’s eyes, holding it up.

  “Did you put this in here?”

  She looked at it and then me, shaking her head. “Nope. I don’t even know what that is. A Komodo dragon?”

  I studied the gray plush toy, taking in his claws, teeth, tail, the scales down his spine, the angry snarl on his face…

  “It’s Godzilla,” I murmured and then laughed.

  Who put this in here?

  And then my face fell. I watched Godzilla last night. I thought I was alone in the theater. Did someone see me?

  It was coincidental, wasn’t it?

  “What’s this?” Elle picked up the paper and granola bar tied to its leg. She read the note, “Sunset is at 6:38 p.m.”

  I flashed my gaze to hers.

  She shrugged. “It’s from someone who knows it’s Yom Kippur,” she said.

  In a town like this, everyone knew who the Jewish kids were.

  And the black kids. And the poor kids.

  We were in the minority in Thunder Bay, so we stood out.

  Anyone could’ve sent this, and I was tempted to keep the snack bar. I hadn’t checked what time sunset was to know when I could eat, and I’d forgotten to bring anything for after the game. I was hungry.

  But then, I saw a black strip of cardstock tied to Godzilla’s tail and ripped it off the ribbon.

  Admit One

  Emory Scott

  L-348

  My hand shook as I read it over and over again, recognizing the black paper with the ornate silver border and the serial number identifying every ticket sold. It was an annual event.

  It was—

  “Are you serious?” Elle blurted out, snatching the ticket from my hand and staring at it. “An invitation from a senior?”