Somehow it’s even more strange to wake up in the cabin.
Because in the woods, we were a long way from home. But here, I’m in a bedroom. I’m lying next to Noah. I’m even on the same side of the bed that I sleep on at home. But I’m not home. I’m in a stranger’s home. A dead stranger’s home.
Also, Noah’s arms are wrapped around my body, his left arm protectively resting over me. We haven’t slept that way in a very long time. Like spoons.
Our clothing is hanging on the dresser. My shorts and T-shirt look dry by now. I carefully disentangle myself from Noah’s arms and walk over to the dresser to check. My shirt feels stiff but dry.
I get dressed and do my best to comb out my hair with my fingers, then gather it back into a ponytail. I put on my clean socks, and then my dirty sneakers. The last thing I do is sift through the top drawer for Noah’s pocket knife. It’s not like I would use it, but it would be comforting to have it.
But when I feel around inside a drawer, the knife is gone.
Noah is still snoring softly in the bed. Did he take the knife back? If so, why? Or did somebody else come into the bedroom and take it while the two of us slept?
I look at the door to the bedroom. Would I have heard it if somebody crept inside during the night?
No, I’m being paranoid. Nobody came into the room while we were sleeping. Noah probably found it and put it somewhere safe. As soon as he wakes up, I’ll ask him about it. But I won’t wake him now. I’ll let him sleep in. I’m jealous—I wish my thoughts weren’t racing a mile a minute. I might be able to sleep in.
I bet Jack is awake.
I carefully open the door to the bedroom, trying not to let it creak too loudly. My sneakers thud softly against the ground. As I shut the door behind me, my eyes go straight to the couch where Jack spent the night.
He’s gone.
“Jack?” I call out.
Unsurprisingly, there’s no reply. If he were in this tiny living space, I would see him.
I walk over to the sofa. His shoes and socks are gone. So is the rifle.
Maybe he went to take a walk again.
Except somehow, I don’t think so.
I sprint back to the bedroom, not bothering to be quiet this time. I shake Noah awake. He yawns, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “Claire, what’s wrong?”
“Jack’s gone!” My fingertips are tingling. I might be hyperventilating. “I can’t find him!”
“Calm down.” He sits up in bed and rubs his eyes again. “He probably went for another walk.”
“I don’t think he did.” I squeeze my hands together. “This is just like what happened with Michelle. And then Warner. We woke up and they were just… gone.”
Noah doesn’t seem to be taking this seriously enough. He does swing his legs over the edge of the bed, but he makes no move to get up and get dressed. “This is different though. We’re in a cabin. It’s not like some wild animal came in here and attacked him.”
“This is just like what happened the last two nights,” I say again.
There were six of us when we started. And one by one, each of us has disappeared. And now there’s just me and Noah.
A little voice in my head tells me that I must be next. That I should make a run for it. While I still can. But where could I go? And anyway, if Noah and I are the only ones left, that means that he must be responsible for the other people disappearing. And I know that’s not the case.
Noah finally drags himself out of bed and puts his clothes on so slowly, I want to shake him. He follows me out of the bathroom, but he seems very unimpressed when I point to the sofa.
“I don’t know what to say.” He scratches at his messy hair. “Do you want to go outside and look for him?”
“Yes,” I say.
Maybe Noah is right. Maybe Jack did go out for a walk. Maybe we’ll go outside and see him alive and well, and I’ll admit I was getting worked up over nothing. I hope so, at least.
Noah goes to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, but I’m too antsy. I go to the front door and push it open. And that’s when I see it.
Blood. All over the doorstep to the cabin. So much blood. So much blood.
“Claire?”
I try to answer, but my voice comes out strangled.
There were six of us in the beginning. Now there are only two. And I haven’t done this.
“Claire?”
I whirl around to face my husband. He takes a long drink of his glass of water and places it on the kitchen table. He steps toward me and I take a step back.
“Claire,” he says again. “What’s wrong?”
“There…” I can barely get the word out. “There’s blood…”
“Blood?” His voice sounds flat, disinterested. “What do you mean?” “It’s… it’s all over the ground in front of the cabin.”
“All over the ground?” His hazel eyes darken. “What are you saying?”
There’s something very unfamiliar in Noah’s face. Oh God. How did I not see this before? Jack was right. Noah knew about my affair, and he never forgave me for it. I’m such a fool.
He planned this whole thing. This is his revenge. He set us up. He’s been killing us one by one.
And now I’m the last one left.
I’ve got to run. But where? I’ve gotten nothing but the clothes on my back. No food, no water. I don’t even have my purse with my phone anymore. If I run away from him, what are the chances I’ll ever find help in time? If I leave this cabin, I’m dead for sure.
Noah takes another step towards me. “Claire…” But if I stay, I’m dead for sure.
I jerk my head around. The door is open behind me. It’s my only chance.
I take off running as fast as I can. At first, I’m not sure which way to go, but then I remember the truck. It looked like there was a path ahead of the truck that was clear. Maybe it goes somewhere. It’s the only chance I’ve got.
I run as fast as I can. I’m vaguely aware of stepping on a branch and my right ankle twisting slightly, but I ignore the pain. I’ve got to get out of here.
As I get closer to the truck, I realize another person is sitting inside the cab. My eyes widen when I realize that Jack is sitting there, next to the dead guy. I almost cry with relief. Maybe he’s trying to hotwire it and get it running. Maybe Noah didn’t have a chance to get to him after all.
I hold onto the side of the truck, attempting to keep my balance, and I wince at the pain in my right ankle. Jack will know what to do. He’s been my rock for the last several months. He’s going to get us out of here. Thank God for Jack.
“Jack!” I cry.
I wrench open the passenger side door to the truck with my right hand. It takes me a split second to realize Jack is not attempting to hotwire the truck. He’s not attempting to do anything. He’s just sitting there in the passenger seat, a bullet hole in his forehead.
No way an animal did that.
“No…” I clasp a hand over my mouth and back away from the truck. “No… No no no no no…”
It’s too late.
“Claire, step away from the truck please.”
I’m only vaguely aware of the toneless voice giving me instructions. All I can think is that the man I loved betrayed me. I’m never going to see my children again. I’m going to die out here in the woods.
“Claire…”
I turn around slowly, expecting to see Noah with that missing gun pointed at me. Or maybe Jack’s rifle. But it’s not Noah at all.
It’s Warner.
He’s got Jack’s rifle pointed at me. His blue eyes are dark and foreboding. This is not somebody who you say no to.
“Would you please put your hands in the air, Claire?” Warner says. “Otherwise you’ll end up like your friend over there.”
My head is spinning. Why is Warner here? He disappeared. There was all that blood. We all thought he was dead for sure.
But of course, we never saw his dead body. We just assumed. “You…” I manage. “You did all this.”
A chilling smile plays on Warner’s lips. “Well, I can’t entirely take credit.”
That’s when it all falls into place. Noah wanted revenge for my betrayal. But he couldn’t do it alone. He needed a partner in crime. Somebody to sneak off during the night and kill the man in the cabin while he was pretending to be sound asleep beside me.
But how did Noah even know Warner?
Unless he set it all up at the beginning. He gave poor Lindsay the meet-cute he knew she’d been hoping for, allowing this handsome man to infiltrate our lives. He even knew what zodiac sign Warner needed to be. It was too easy.
“Let’s head back to the cabin,” Warner says calmly.
He points the rifle at me, and I have every reason to believe he will shoot me if I don’t comply. My ankle screams in pain but I push myself to march back to the cabin, where Noah is waiting inside.
I wonder what their plan is. It looks like everyone else was simply murdered, but they want something different for me. Torture. As horrible as it sounds, I can’t entirely blame him. I did something terrible to Noah. It made him crack, the way he did when his father died.
God, I wish I still had Noah’s Swiss Army knife. If only I had held onto it…
The door to the cabin is still sitting open. Warner marches me inside with my hands still up in the air. The first thing I see when I walk into the living room is Noah. I expected him to have a gun in his hand, pointed at me. But instead, he’s sitting on the couch, his head down, his hands raised into the air like mine.
Because somebody else is pointing a gun at his head. Oh my God.
