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I puke again. Crawl a few more feet.
One of the Mr. Boneses staggers up, something bright and glittering in his hand.
“Dane!”I shriek.
Dane turns and catches the knife as it swings down, its blade biting into his forearm. He lets out a strangled yell.
I’ve picked up Dane’s branch, but it’s a fuck of a lot heavier than a baseball bat. When I swing it at the last Mr. Bones, I don’t even get close—the branch arcs through empty air, its weight pulling me all the way around, so I fall on my ass.
The guy laughs, and then makes a startled grunting sound.
He looks down. His own knife is buried in his stomach.
“Shit…” he says, dropping to his knees.
Hands lift me up—hands that feel nothing like the ones that were ripping and tugging at me before.
These hands are warm and careful…they lift me until I’m cradled in Dane’s arms, my cheek against his chest. I smell his scent that smells like everything safe, everything I need right now to still the helpless shaking in my legs.
“Are you okay?” He pulls his mask all the way off so I can see the concern in his face. I could already hear it, plain as day in his voice.
“You saved me.” I’m staring up at him, shocked and a little awed.
Nobody’s ever saved me before.
I’ve always had to save myself.
“Those fucks,” Dane says bitterly. “No wonder they never caught the people doing this.”
“Wait!” I cry, making Dane set me down though I’d much rather stay in his arms. “We need to take a picture…”
I grab my phone and yank the mask off the guy Dane was pummeling—the one who sucker punched me. Just as I expected, it’s one of the sheriff’s deputies—the one who whispered and laughed at me that day in the café. His face looks like hamburger, but I snap a pic anyway as he groans.
I pull off Sherriff Shane’s mask, too, planning to snap a pic of his stupid passed-out mug. But the blank eyes staring up at me are much more than unconscious.
“He’s dead,” Dane says unnecessarily.
“But how…”
I lift my hand off the sheriff’s chest, my palm soaked in bright red blood.
“Come on…” Dane tugs my arm. “We should get out of here.”
* * *
30
DANE
Remi lets me lead her out of the park. Really, I’m half-carrying her—she’s wobbly on her legs, from shock and fear or from drinking too much.
“How did you find me?” she mumbles.
“I’ve been watching you all night. I thought Jude was taking you home, and by the time I realized it wasn’t him, I’d lost you in the park. Then I heard the sheriff shrieking like a little girl…”
Remi gives a slightly loopy laugh.
“I kicked him in the nose…been wanting to do that for a while.”
