She manages to catch me off guard, my brain still too frazzled by the chaos of the past several seconds to think to run away, and gets a vise grip around my arm. Immediately I attempt to wriggle away but there’s no point. Going outside means facing whoever hurt Carla and probably Timothy. Even if I did get away from Kiki and found somewhere to hide in the cabin, she’d be able to track me down in no time.
“We can get them to give us the keys and we can get out of here,” she announces to Kai as she tightens her grip on me.
At least she’s not trying to plunge the knife straight through me anymore. Instead, she keeps it held beside my face like a warning. A reminder that if I try to run, I’ll be the only one getting hurt. She tugs me closer to her, hooking an elbow around my neck, the knife hovering inches from my cheek.
This close, I can see how badly Kiki’s hand is shaking—how wide with terror her eyes have become. When I’m pressed up against her chest, I can feel just how fast her heart is beating, a frantic rhythm pounding against my back as she holds me tight. Despite her fear, she has a firm grip. Her forearm is sturdy, the muscles taut from years of tossing girls like Carla into the air.
Kiki’s so sure I’m involved with whoever’s hunting us that she’s willing to hold me hostage—use me as bait to lure in the killer.
The realization hits Kai later than it hits me. As soon as it does, he lunges into action.
“Have you lost your mind?” he snaps at his sister, closing the distance between us. Kiki surprises us both when she points the knife toward him instead.
“Back up, Kai,” she warns, as if I’m the one who’s a danger to them, as if I’m the one with the knife. “You and I are getting out of here,” she whispers to him, low and menacing.
“Not like this,” Kai replies, shaking his head. Then, quick as a flash, he knocks his arm against Kiki’s as hard as he can.
The knife goes flying across the room. Kiki gasps, immediately letting go of me to charge after her weapon. The thought to go after the knife briefly crosses my mind, but I know that’ll just wind up with someone—most likely me—getting hurt. Kai doesn’t have the same line of thought, though. As soon as Kiki takes off, he follows behind her. They’re evenly matched, tumbling to the floor at almost the exact same time.
I can barely make out the shapes of their bodies, but the silence is overtaken by the sounds of them fighting each other for control. A grunt from Kai. A groan from Kiki. I press myself up against the wall, doing my best to blend in with the shadows as I watch the two of them roll around the ground, the roomtoo dark for me to properly tell them apart. I’m able to catch a glimpse of something between them—the knife gleaming as it’s held in the air for a fleeting second, followed by the sound of it colliding with the ground again.
“Give it to me!” Kiki shouts, followed by a grunt that must be Kai getting hit by some part of her. “I’m keeping us safe!”
“You’re making things worse!” Kai protests, the strain in his voice making it clear that they’re fighting for the knife. Pushing and pulling. Impossible to tell who’s in control and who’s fighting to take it back.
“Just fucking—”
Whatever Kiki means to say is cut off by athwackthat makes the pit in my stomach rocket into my throat. I swear I hear a squelch—something wet and so stomach-churning I’m grateful I already threw up everything my body had left to give. There’s a choked groan, and then silence. The worst kind of silence, broken by a whimper.
“Kiki…”
Kai’s voice is so quiet I almost miss it. I scramble forward as quickly as I can, feeling my way through the dark toward the outlines of the twins, but I stop halfway when I realize one of the outlines isn’t moving. Kiki lies flat on her back. Her eyes wide open, lips parted with nothing but a quiet, barely-there breath.
The knife sticking straight out of her chest.
25
“Dina.” Kai’s voice finally pulls my attention away from Kiki’s body. I look up at him through the dark and can barely make out the shadow of his arm reaching toward me.
My brain tells me to run away from him, but my heart begs me to stay. To believe that he wouldn’t purposefully stab his twin sister—that he wouldn’t do the same to me, if I got in his way.He did it to protect you, I try to tell myself to calm the panic flooding through me, threatening to make me bolt out into the woods to get as far away from this place as possible.He’s not that kind of person, I tell myself easily, but it’s harder to convince myself to believe it.
Didn’t I say the same thing about my family last year? And look where we are now.
Kai’s arm stills when he sees me stumble back from him, falling limply to his side as he breaks out into quiet, whimpering sobs.
“I-I didn’t… she pulled and she… I let go… I didn’t…,” he stammers, unable to form a full sentence. “I didn’t mean to,” he repeats again and again, his voice a broken whisper. Confirming what I knew deep down—he would never hurt someone on purpose. Tears stream down his cheeks and blood—either his or Kiki’s—travels over his wrist to stain the cuff of his shirt.
We only have a small window of time to help Kiki before she winds up like Carla. There’s only so much we can do, but every second counts.
“We need to help her,” I tell Kai, my own voice shaking.
“W-we don’t have the keys,” Kai stammers out, the tears coming even faster as it dawns on him how terrible our situation is.
“Then we have to try to help her here,” I say.
I run into the kitchen and grab the paper towels I remember seeing on the edge of the counter before returning to Kiki’s side. Suddenly, I wish I’d paid more attention in biology. That I knew more about the body and what it needs to survive. I have no idea if it’s better to leave the knife inside of her, or if we should try to pull it out, but I can at least apply pressure. Kiki lets out a pained groan and the towels soak through almost instantly, my palms damp again from a new type of blood. It’s impossible to tell how deep the wound is, but based on how little I can see of the knife’s blade, I know we’re working with limited time.
But how much can we do, really? It’s only a matter of time until the person hunting us gets inside, through another door or a window. And when they do, we won’t have anywhere to run. It’s either fight or wind up like Carla.
