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Fallon froze, hand hovering over the first aid box. His eyes were trained on my face.
“Are you sure?” His tone frightened me; he almost sounded...well scared.
And Fallon was never scared.
“I’m positive,” I said at last, confused by the urgency in Fallon’s normally apathetic expression. He exchanged an unreadable glance with Tam.
“We need to leave,” he said at last, putting the bandages back into the box. Turning towards me, he said, “Tell the boys to grab everything they can. All the food, any water bottles, and put them in the duffle bags we found. We have to walk until we can find a car that isn’t stuck in traffic.”
“But...”
“Don’t argue with me, Adelaide,” he said, sounding extremely young just then. Tired, almost. It suddenly occurred to me that Fallon wasn’t that much older than I was. He always seemed older, but that was because of the responsibility he assumed. The weight of the world seemed to press down on his shoulders, aging him in a way I couldn’t even begin to understand.
“Okay,” I agreed softly, biting my tongue to avoid the thousands of questions I wanted to ask.
It only took me a minute to find the rest of the boys - all convened in a spare bedroom. When I discussed what Fallon had said, they nodded once without any argument.
I couldn’t help but think over Fallon’s strange behavior. The blood. What blood had he been talking about? I immediately thought about the person who had entered the house before I had went to bed. Had he done something?
I discovered the answer to that question the second I stepped into the living room. Across the peach walls, in bright red, someone had written a message.
A message that hadn’t been there earlier.
I’M COMING FOR YOU.
