Page 64 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

2:50 a.m.

When we get back, Mr. McCullough and Caulder check the upstairs and downstairs again, but the house is as empty as ever. There are no signs of Lucas or Emerson or Marlene. With the larger group, the teachers feel okay letting us go to our rooms to change. After I pull on dry clothes, I head to the bathroom and grab a comb and untangle my hair, then twist it up into a claw clip and wash my face. After I pat it dry, I hold a damp washcloth to my forehead, and then I stand there and stare at myself in the mirror.

I look tired. I have dark moons under my eyes, and I’m pale—though I’m always pale. Otherwise, I look the same. Shouldn’t I look different, after everything? After death?

Maybe it will take a while. Maybe I’ll stay exactly the same.

I’m not sure which scares me more.

When I head downstairs, Caulder and Kaitlyn are sitting on the couch. They’ve both changed, and they’re as far apart from each other as they can get. They’re glaring at Mr. McCullough, who’s standing in the kitchen, and it’s hard to say who looks more filled with hate.

“So that’s really your story?” Kaitlyn demands. “You got lost? Why were you out there in the first place?”

So we’re back to this.

“I don’t have to justify myself to a bunch of teenagers,” Mr. McCullough says, digging through the cabinets and drawers. I watch him pull out a flashlight and test it, finding it weak, before he returns to digging for batteries.

“You do if their friends are being murdered because of you,” Caulder says.

I’ve never heard him talk to Mr. McCullough that way, but I don’t blame him. I look from Mr. McCullough to Ms. Dorman, who’s washing her hands in the sink. She winces every now and then, which makes me feel slightly guilty about stabbing her with a letter opener. Then I remember she abandoned me, and I feel less bad about it.

“I’m going to go find the other kids,” Mr. McCullough says, ignoring Caulder and turning to Ms. Dorman.

“You can’t be serious,” she says with a huff of indignant laughter. “After what we saw out there?”

“Christine, I have to. They’re our responsibility,” he says.

“Exactly, and these children right here, they need us,” Ms. Dorman says, her voice a blunt-tipped whisper that carries.

“We can split up,” he says, pulling out a pack of batteries and loading them into the flashlight, not meeting her eyes. She’s finished washing her hands but lets the water run as she seizes him by the shirt, forcing him to face her.

“Gerard, I know you feel guilty for leaving, but this isn’t how we fix this,” she hisses. “It only makes the rest of us vulnerable. We all need to stay together.”

“I’m going with you,” Caulder says, making me jolt.

Now I feel like Ms. Dorman. “No way. Absolutely no way.”

But really, there’s no way Caulder’s staying. Not now. Not now that Javi’s dead.

Mr. McCullough shakes his head. “No, Caulder. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Try and make me,” Caulder says. “I’m going.”

I chew my cuticle, eyes bouncing between them.

“Caulder,” I say, sitting up. “You don’t…You shouldn’t go out there. Remember what Kaitlyn said.”

She’d filled us in on what had happened before we found her. They saw a figure. They scattered. Kaitlyn found Emerson, bloodied and injured, who took off when they got to the cliffs. She looked over the edge. She found Javi. And now Caulder’s going to go back out there. For Emerson. And Marlene and hopefully Lucas, too.

“If I can’t find anyone, I’ll head into town,” Mr. McCullough says.

“We tried that,” Kaitlyn grumbles, voice loud. “It’s too far away.”

I want to add that it’s impossible, that all of this is impossible. Every time we find someone, we lose someone else. I glance at Caulder, trying to read him, but he’s watching Mr. McCullough, who sighs before finally speaking.

“Then I’ll just keep looking until I find them,” he says. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words,” Kaitlyn says, rolling her eyes.