Page 67 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

Chapter 36

Kaitlyn

October 17

2:51 a.m.

I’ll destroy them all.

Every last one of them.

Because they deserve to pay.

Chapter 37

Caulder

October 17

3:00 a.m.

We walk through the trees, which are easier to navigate now that the storm’s stopped. I should be grateful for the reprieve from the rain, but I’m not. All I can think about is Javi bleeding out in the water. How I failed him. How I might fail everyone else.

I didn’t want to leave Avery alone with Kaitlyn and Ms. Dorman. Even if she hates me right now, I can’t stand the thought of what would happen if someone—if whoever did this to Mr. Jay and Javi—got to them. But I also don’t know how I could live with myself if I didn’t at least try to find the others after what Kaitlyn told us happened.

Because Marlene’s out here alone, unless she found Lucas—or, more likely, Emerson, who left Kaitlyn behind. Who, judging by Kaitlyn’s description, was banged up pretty bad. I hope that means it’ll be easier to find him, but then I take back that thought as soon as it crosses my mind. If he’s easier for us to find, he’s easier for anyone to find.

“Caulder,” Mr. McCullough says, drawing my attention back to him. “I…I know I can’t begin to tell you how…how sorry I am for what you’ve experienced tonight. And I appreciate that you want to be out here with me. But if you need to go back—”

“I don’t trust you,” I say, not bothering to smooth out the hard edges in my voice. “I’m not doing this because I want to help you. I’m looking for the others, and you happen to be out here, too.”

I don’t miss the shock and hurt that flash across his face. After all, I’ve never talked to him this way. To him, I’ve always been the golden boy, the baseball player he recruited to debate team. Someone to lean on. Someone who he could trust to take care of shit and not bother him for help. After all, Mr. McCullough barely knows the difference between an LD debate and a policy debate. He lets Ms. Dorman do all the work and even recruited Mr. Jay to do anything that’s left. I see him now for what he is: a glorified chauffeur. I’ve never hated him for it before, but I do now. Now that he’s adding to my panic and reminding me that I am, for all intents and purposes, on my own out here.

Panic is the enemy of victory.

Dad’s words float back to me, but they don’t offer me the comfort they usually do. Not now that my whole body is consumed by panic. Something about multiple friends being attacked and murdered seems to have sent me completely over the edge, and no coping mechanism that I use during a baseball game is going to pull me back.

Because none of this is a game. It’s Lucas and Javi, lifeless from here on out. It’s Avery stuck in that house, with me out here in the rain with Mr. McCullough of all people. It’s—

Whoosh.

Out of nowhere a figure is barreling toward us. They slam into Mr. McCullough, sending both of them flying to the ground. I’m on the assailant in a second, their shoulders in my hands, trying to pull them off. Mr. McCullough’s shouting, swinging blindly. I hear “Oof!” and the person falls over into the mud.

Someone with sharp blue eyes that I’d recognize anywhere.

“Emerson?” I ask, incredulous. “Dude, what are you doing?”

Emerson’s eyes are wide, as if he can’t figure out if I’m really there or not. He’s covered in blood—it’s on his face, hands, clothes—

“What the hell happened to you?” Mr. McCullough asks, shaking out his hand as he scrambles to his feet and points at Emerson’s thigh, which is soaked in blood. “What the hell is going on?”

“Kaitlyn told us he was hurt,” I say, bending down to try to touch Emerson’s shoulder. But the second my fingertips touch his skin, he jerks his head to me. I’m taken aback by how bloodshot his eyes are.

“What time is it?” he demands. “Is it four yet?”

I stare at him. “What?”

“Goddammit,” he says, pulling himself up to his feet. He leans against a tree and reaches into his pocket, then pulls out his phone.