Beck slams the door shut, pushing her body weight against it. I double over as my chest aches from the workout. I’m sucking air in, but my lungs can’t pull enough oxygen in. Stars dot my vision.
“What’s going on?” Natalie asks.
I don’t even know where to start.
Twenty-Three
The first thing Natalie does is point Beck and me to the automatic hot water machine.
The second thing Natalie does is take her gun and head outside.
Beck and I sit on the floor of an annoyingly seatless visitors’ center, mugs of hot cocoa mix steaming in our hands. Natalie was aware enough to lock the door behind her, but neither Beck nor I can take our eyes off the lock, as if it’ll disappear at any moment.
“You know what’s insane about this whole situation?” Beck says, letting the steam of the cocoa caress her face.
“What?”
“My mom had a stalker once. She was trying to get to her car, walking through a studio lot in the ’80s. This guy got so close that he slashed her leg open and she barely got to the hospital before she bled out. It turned out the guy was a deranged fan who snuck onto the lot that day. She used to tell that story whenever something random and bad happened to one of us. She said some people just have negative energy surround them and their loved ones.”
Jesus Christ. I nudge my foot against Beck’s, neither of us willing to take our vice grips off our mugs. “That can’t be true, you know.”
She sips her drink. “With what happened to Pais, I don’t know.”
Beck puts her cup beside me. She jumps to her feet and starts poking around Natalie’s workspace. I think about asking her what the hell she’s doing, but the comedown from the adrenaline is an intense drain.
Besides, it’s not like she’d stop.
“Do you think the police would even listen to us?” I ask.
“Seems like between the weird townspeople and the forest FBI, we’re shit out of luck.”
Should we leave?The words hang heavy in my chest. The logical part of me says yes, of course, whatever happened out there isn’t worth finding out the truth. But for some reason, I can’t get my mouth to form the words.
Natalie returns, closing the door behind her and putting her shotgun safety on. Beck vaults over to the visitor side before Natalie can turn back to us.
“So, bad news and good news,” Natalie says as she sets her gun on the counter. “Good news is I can’t find whoever was chasing you. Bad news is, well, I didn’t find whoever was chasing you. Whoever they were, they didn’t follow you onto the gravel entryway here.” She hoists herself up onto the countertop. “You sure someone was following you? It wasn’t just a jogger or someone?”
I grind my teeth. Why is everyone trying to find logic in this? I get that I watch horror movies more than the average person, but I know when I’m beingchased down.
“We’re sure,” I growl.
Natalie puts her hands up. “Okay. Look, I don’tnotbelieve you. If you want an escort to your car—”
Beck sighs. “Our car’s in the shop.”
Natalie purses her lips. “Got it. Well, are ya sticking around here until it’s fixed? I’m sure Gerry told you, but taxis don’t really operate out here.”
I exchange a look with Beck.
“Yeah, we’ll be here,” Beck says.
“Cool.” Natalie slides off the counter and back to her feet. “Then let me escort you guys back to your campsite. The rest area is closed and guarded against trespassers. No one passes by here without me seeing. You’re okay.”
Yeah, everyone except one woman. “Do you remember someone named Vanessa?” I ask. “She would’ve been here when Ivy and those girls were here.”
Natalie frowns. “Ivy asked me about her when she checked in yesterday. We filed a missing persons report, but nothing has come up. These parks are a lot bigger than you think. Sometimes it takes a while to thoroughly comb for someone.”
I deflate a little at the nothing answer. I guess it’s confirmation Vanessa was a real person, but her fate remains as unknown as when Ivy brought her up this morning. With the stalker encounter still fresh in my head, our time with Ivy feels like ages ago.
