Page 74 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

Her gaze flicks to Avery and then back down to the floor.

“Before I could find whoever was screaming, though, I saw someone,” she says. “The person who attacked us, I assumed. And now that I think about it, he looked an awful lot like you.”

“Marlene—” Mr. McCullough starts, but she cuts him off.

“He was stumbling through the woods,” she says, eyes narrowing. “I was trying to figure out who it was, thinking maybe it was Javi or Emerson. And then he heard me, and he ran toward me and grabbed me by the shoulders.” Tears spring to her eyes. “I struggled to get away. They wouldn’t let me go. I thought they were going to kill me—and you would’ve, wouldn’t you, Mr. McCullough?”

“No!” Mr. McCullough shouts, his voice louder as it bounces off the walls. He steps forward, away from Ms. Dorman and toward Marlene, but Caulder steps in front of Marlene this time.

“Marlene, that never happened,” Mr. McCullough says, and there’s no denying the anger in his voice now. “I understand we’re all scared, but you can’t just be telling tales—”

“You tried to hold me down and stab me!” Marlene shouts back, voice catching near the end as she trembles. “I only got away because I was able to get out of my jacket.”

“This is insanity,” Mr. McCullough says. “I was nowhere near you. Now, if we can just get Christine to wake up, she can corroborate this.”

“Where were you, then?” I ask, keeping my arms crossed as I lift my chin. “Seems convenient that someone who’s currently concussed is your only alibi.”

Mr. McCullough glares at me. “I’m telling you, I didn’t do anything to Marlene. I was with Ms. Dorman; then I came here and found Avery and Caulder and you, and then I left, and Caulder and I found Emerson. I didn’t even have the time to do what she’s describing. Marlene, I’m sorry,” Mr. McCullough says. “But this is simply impossible.”

“So you’re saying I wasn’t attacked?”

“I’m saying,” Mr. McCullough says carefully, “that someone might have attacked you, but it wasn’t me.”

Marlene’s tears fall as heavy drops onto her shirt. She lets the blanket drop and buries her face in her hands, shivering. When no one moves, I surprise everyone in the room by going to her and putting my arm around her, pulling her in her close, and she turns and sobs against me.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “We’re all right.”

“Not with him here,” she whispers back.

I look back at Caulder, searching his eyes. The golden boy, our fearless leader. What will he have us do now? He’ll probably say that Mr. McCullough is our teacher…But he and I both know that teachers have done terrible things to students.

Still, Mr. McCullough doesn’t exactly cut a foreboding image. I keep thinking of him at his desk, popping peanut butter–filled pretzels into his mouth while quizzing us on debate theory. I think of him leaning against the wall in the hallway and telling us all to “be careful out there” as we head to class. He’s so…unremarkable.

But then again, like Ms. Dorman, he brought a monster into our world when he recruited Mr. Jay to help coach this team. At a minimum, he’s ignorant. At worst, he enabled a predator.

“You said he stabbed you,” Caulder says, watching the rest of us before slowly sliding his eyes in Marlene’s direction.

She sniffs. “He tried to.”

“Did he cut you?” Caulder asks.

Marlene shakes her head. “Not much.”

She holds up her arms, and we all look at them expectantly. Her face has a few scratches, but the same kind I have, little ones made by the trees. But the struggle Marlene’s describing—if there was a knife involved and a bloody jacket left behind—would leave evidence, wouldn’t it? And yet, her arms are mostly bare.

“I fought back,” she says, sounding proud. “I got away before he could do anything really bad.”

Caulder blinks, something in his face shifting. It’s impossible to explain. Is it confusion? He turns to Marlene.

“We found your jacket,” Caulder says, talking to Marlene but keeping his eyes on McCullough.

“You see?” Marlene sobs.

She continues to sniffle against me, but I watch Caulder. Something about his expression…What is he thinking?

“What happened to the knife?” Caulder asks.

Marlene’s eyes widen slightly, as if she’s caught off guard by the question. “The knife?”