Page 49 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

I try to swallow the air, but it’s no use. Caulder turns around, concern gripping his features. Because I can’t help the horror that’s latched on to me, that’s immobilized me, and I’m going to get us killed. Maybe he’ll fling me out of the room to give himself time. I wait for him to do that, but instead, he crosses back, drops to his knees beside me, and presses a calloused fingertip to my lips. The touch is so hard and soft all at once that it shocks me into something that resembles breathing.

“Avery,” he says, voice a low rumble that matches the thunder outside. “I need you to try to breathe in through your nose and hold it in your stomach, okay? Hold it there.”

They’re my words from earlier said back to me, but wholly different because he’s saying them. His eyes are fastened on mine, and his face is so, so much closer than it’s ever been. Lashes that are unfairly long. Light brown hair that’s wavier than usual—is the rain to blame? A scar on his jaw that I remember him getting when we were riding our bikes through the neighborhood, a bright white slash against his suntanned skin. A slightly crooked edge to his nose. His fingertip that was on my lip falls, but his gaze stays steady.

“Inhale,” he tells me. He takes my wrist in his hand, thumb pressing against the underside. Guiding my breaths, I realize. “Exhale,” he says, releasing the pressure of his thumb. “Come on, Avery.”

I try as the footsteps get closer outside the door, then farther away, then above us. Moving through the house. Upstairs, doors start to slam open, then shut, then open, then shut.

“Inhale,” Caulder presses. “Exhale.”

And this time, I do. I suck in a breath, then force it out again. I shake in Caulder’s arms, but it starts to slow. I exhale. I repeat, again and again. My heart still hammers, but I’ve got control of my breathing again.

Just as a hand rattles the doorknob, finding it locked.

“Please be Emerson,” I whisper. “Please.”

Caulder lets me go, padding over to the old wooden desk behind us. He gingerly pulls open its drawers as the knob continues to rattle. There’s the sound of footsteps again, and for a wild moment, I think the killer’s leaving, that they didn’t find us after all. But then they’re back, and the knob shakes harder.

“They’re trying to pick it,” I whisper, horror laced through every syllable.

“Here,” Caulder says, matching my low voice. “Take this.”

He’s holding up something long and slender he’s pulled out of the desk. I do a double take trying to place it. It looks almost like a small sword.

“Letter opener,” Caulder says. “You get them with this, and I’ll tackle them from the side.”

I stare at it, then at him. A letter opener. But what weapons does the killer have? What’s a letter opener going to do against—

The door flies open, revealing a silhouetted figure standing just outside the room. They’re shorter than I imagined, but I don’t waste a second. I run forward, letter opener hoisted, and slash at our attacker. There’s a cry of pain as I throw the attacker to the floor. I trip over something—them?—as I race through the door, still slashing.

Until suddenly, Caulder grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me back, telling me to stop.

And that’s when I realize who our attacker is. I run to the light switch and flip it, and abruptly the room is aglow with the soft light of the glass chandelier above.

“Ms. Dorman?” I ask, staring at her clutching her side on the floor.

Her eyes are wide, her arms bloody from where I’ve slashed her with the letter opener. Her voice is raw and ragged when she speaks.

“What the hell have you done?”

Chapter 25

Marlene

October 17

2:13 a.m.

It happens in slow motion.

Hands from out of the dark grab Javi, seizing him by his raincoat. A knife flashes in the moonlight.

A face covered in blood, blue eyes the only thing visible.

I focus on the hand, the knife, on Javi. I tune out Kaitlyn’s screams.

Adrenaline lances through me, and I’ve never felt this way before. Something like a feral rage drives me forward as I watch Javi struggle against the attacker, his feet trying to gain purchase on the ground. I fight the fear coursing through me to focus.