I went to a window and looked outside.
There was a thin layer of snow on the ground. Icicles hung from the trees. The glass was cold against my fingers. I couldn’t see a road, only thick forest. I didn’t know where we were in relation to the house. To my truck. I could probably find it if needed.
But if he thought I was just going to leave after all this time, he was in for a rude awakening.
I went back to my bag and opened it up. There, sitting on the top, was my phone.
It was smashed, the screen cracked.
I stared down at it.
It’d been in my truck. I hadn’t taken it out into the house.
Which meant the hunters hadn’t touched it.
It’d been broken after.
“Asshole.” I took it out of the bag and tried to power it on. Nothing happened.
I tossed it to the side, looking back to my bag. What few possessions I’d brought with me were still there, minus the shorts. I found the item I was looking for at the bottom.
It was soft and warm. I glanced toward the door. I didn’t hear Gavin. I pulled the hoodie out and raised it to my face, inhaling deeply. The scent had faded after so long, but I chased after it greedily. Just when I was about to give up, I smelled it.
Home.
Kelly.
“What the hell do I do now?” I asked him. A year. I’d had a year to get to this point. A year to plan for what would happen if and when I found him. And now that I had, I was at a loss. I didn’t know why I’d thought he’d make it easy. He was a Livingstone. I was a Bennett. We never made things easy.
Kelly didn’t answer.
I put the hoodie on. It was tight in the shoulders and the sleeves were too short, but it made me feel better.
I pulled on the only other pair of jeans I’d brought. My leg groaned, but it already hurt less. I popped my back and neck. I was thirsty, and I had to piss.
There was no bathroom.
Because of course there wasn’t.
I slipped on my boots without socks. There were splashes of my blood across the back of one of them. I wondered what had become of the hunters. If they lay in front of the cabin, blood frozen, eyes wide, snow in their open mouths.
“Or maybe Livingstone ate them,” I said to no one.
The thought felt like a lance of ice.
I went to the door.
Took a deep breath.
And opened it.
The air was still. A clump of snow fell from one of the trees. My breath poured from my mouth in a fog. I inhaled deeply, and it was crisp and bright.
There was something running just underneath it all, like a dark current. It felt like a shadow, tendrils reaching out and infecting the ground beneath my feet.
I knew what it was.
Who it was.
