Page 28 of Kiss Slay Replay

Wyatt holds him back. “I’ll go.”

“No! Wyatt. No one’s opening those fucking doors.”

“It could be Steph and Jace,” Wyatt says. “It’s okay, Willa. I’m a big guy. Let me handle it.”

“It’s not them!” I didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean for it to come out. But it’s out. It’s hanging there. It’s in the world. This world. This world that tastes of blood and saline and smells of sweat and death.

“Willa,” Evan says. “If that’s not your blood, whose blood is it?”

I can’t answer him. I can’t. I won’t.

“Whose blood is it?” he repeats.

“The call keeps dropping,” says the man on the chair. “Anyone else?”

“There’s a kitchen, right? Probably a back office. A landline,” I say. “We need to—”

“We need to get out of here,” someone screams. “There’s a strange man running around with a knife!”

More shouting. Commotion. Confusion.

Another voice cutting through. “Who drove here? Who has a car? We took the shuttle.”

“We have a car,” Wyatt says. “We’ll take as many people as we can and get help.”

“You’re not leaving,” I say. “It’s too dangerous out there.”

“And it’s perfectly safe in here?” Evan says. “We’ll go together. As a group.”

Luke stands and gets Cassie to her feet. She’s in a daze. “What kind of person would attack a wedding?”

“It’s not a person,” I say.

“Not a person? Then what is it?” Evan asks.

“They’re…they’re something else. Something worse. I can’t explain it. Where’s…” I turn, searching for Danny. He’s on the floor, his back to the wall, knees up, face hidden. “Danny…”

He lifts his head, and his eyes are wet with tears. “Do you think he could still be out there? Jason?”

“We can’t stay here. We need a plan, and we need to make it fast,” Wyatt says. So brave. So ignorant of what we’re up against. This isn’t just some guy with a knife. This is somebody with a knife and an entire fucking tool belt of potential weapons, and I’m willing to bet he intends to use every single one. This is somebody who took the time to make a mask. Somebody who gets off on inciting fear, on violence. Maybe I’ve been watching too many horror movies, but I think it’d be pretty goddamn stupid to not recognize that I’m in one right now. This isn’t just some random wanderer with a few screws loose or a disillusioned Kaczynski type trying to make the news, make a point.

This is a supervillain.

This is who took Steph’s eyes.

Calculated and homicidal and soulless, killing for sport.

“We have a car, too,” Luke says, stepping forward. Cassie pulls him back.

“No,” she says. “Don’t you dare.”

“Babe—”

Their inevitable argument is interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream. A woman in the corner points to one of the windows. “There’s someone out there!”

“We’re aware,” Evan says.

The music cuts out, and everyone twists toward the DJ booth.