Chapter 4

Four

Skyler

Slate never makes it back, instead passing out under the tree a few feet from us. The ground is hard and full of shit I probably don’t want to see, but Caelan’s arms are warm and comfortable, and that’s enough for me.

I’m damn near asleep when Caelan’s whispered words pull me back to the land of the living. “You know, Sky, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he says, sounding almost nervous.

I don’t want to move, not even a little, but something tells me this is important, so despite being perfectly ready to pass out, I roll over to face him.

It’s dark as hell out here, but I can see enough of Caelan to make out the way his eyes rake over my face as he darts his tongue out, wetting his lips. It’s a nervous tick he has and while it’s adorable, I can’t imagine what he has to be nervous about right now.

“What’s up?” I ask, nuzzling into his chest to steal his warmth.

He’s quiet for a minute, and I wait. Nevertheless, he remains quiet. For a second, I think maybe he passed out, but when I pull back, I find him staring down at me. His arms squeeze me close and I hear him let out a sigh.

Now he’s freaking me out a little bit.

“Hey,” I say, pushing back enough to look up at him. “What’s going on?” I ask, no longer feeling so tired. His eyes search mine for a moment, and I swear they change color, going from their regular blue to a bright red that changes his entire face. I blink, and their back to normal again so I brush it off as an effect of the damn pill Holt gave me.

This is why I don’t fuck with that shit.

“Nah, it’s nothing. We can talk about it later,” he says with a sad smile, reaching up to brush some of my hair out of my face and behind my ear. It’s such a sweet gesture. Caelan is always a little sweeter than the others, especially one on one like this. But something about his tone and smile seems off. He doesn’t seem like a guy who just got fucked in the woods after a night of partying and drinking with friends.

I want to ask what’s bugging him and push until he answers me, but before I can, I feel his breath catch and his arms tighten around me, almost to the point of pain.

“Cae?!”

Panic fills his eyes, and my own surges to meet it. I struggle to push out of his arms, and the second he lets me go, his hands fly to his throat as if pulling at some invisible force. He gasps for air, and I know something’s wrong, but I don’t see anything.

“Caelan, what’s wrong?” I ask, even knowing he can’t answer, but I don’t know what to do.

“Tell me how to help you,” I beg, reaching up to feel his throat. Searching for something I might not be able to see, but it’s smooth. Nothing’s there.

“Slate!” I shout, hoping to wake him and get his help, but it’s useless. One quick glance tells me he hasn’t moved a muscle since he passed out.

Something warm hits my cheek, and I whip my head back to look at Caelan.

A scream rips its way from my throat so loud it hurts my own ears. It feels like it comes from the depths of my soul, and even as my throat begins to ache, I can’t stop. I scream until there's no air left in my lungs, but it doesn’t feel like enough as I look over at Caelan, who still lies beside me, his eyes open but unseeing. His chest is covered in blood, and it takes me a second to realize that must have been what I felt on my cheek. Shaking, I reach up to wipe it off, but I’m so close that my hand bumps his chest, and I feel the warm blood as it coats the back of my fingers.

I scramble away, crawling across the forest floor without a care that I’m naked or what might be there; my only thought is I can’t stay in his arms.

His dead arms.

His arm falls from my side and flops down on the ground. He doesn’t move, but even so, I watch him, unable to pull my eyes away.

This is a dream, a nightmare. This can’t be real. He was just here; we were talking, and everything was fine.

My heart races, slamming into my ribs hard enough that I worry it might burst out of my chest or maybe just stop altogether.

“Caelan?” I call. My voice shakes, and my words come out hoarse from screaming.

He still doesn’t move, and the longer I look at him, the more I realize he won’t—not ever again.

Reaching up with my clean hand, I scrub at the spot on my cheek where I can feel the warmth of his blood. I need it off of me. I don’t care if I’m dirty. I just need it gone before I throw up.

I might throw up anyway.

My breathing grows more frantic by the second, and I know I need to move, get help, something before I let my panic get the best of me.

Slate.

He’s still here, he can help me.

Turning away from Caelan, I scramble on my hands and knees toward Slate, ignoring the sting from the rocks and sticks as they bite into my flesh.

“Slate!” I shout, reaching out to shake him. I see the shadow on my right hand as I rest it on his chest and almost puke right there, knowing what it is, even if it’s too dark to really make it out.

“Fuck! Slate, please! Please, wake up,” I plead. Hot tears roll down my face, but I ignore them, needing to focus on Slate. My head swims, and my vision goes black for a second as I fight to draw in a deep breath.

“Slate!” I scream, slamming my open palm down on his chest in frustration. The sharp slap rings out around us, and he wakes with a groan, his eyes slowly blinking open.

“Fuck, Sky. Go ride Caelan’s dick for a few. I still need time to recover,” he says with a laugh, rubbing at the spot on his chest where I’d slapped him.

No! He can’t go back to sleep! My words get lodged in my throat as I try and fail to explain what's going on and why I need him to stay awake. Reaching out, I yank him back toward me, and it’s not until our eyes meet that I think he might finally understand something’s wrong.

I can only imagine what I must look like right now. A whole fucking mess. Not only have we been partying all night, but I also just got fucked on the ground in the forest. Add that to the drying blood I can feel on my face, neck, chest, and hand, with the panic that is choking me, and yeah, it’s kind of serious.

“Woah, Sky,” Slate says, looking up at me with concern. He reaches out, brushing my hair back out of my face as his eyes take in my sad state, and just like that, he’s awake.

He pushes up a bit, trying to sit, but I can’t make myself move. I’m so relieved that he’s awake and I’m not alone that my tears fall even faster, but I’m even less in control now as the adrenaline wears off and my panic gets a full grasp of me.

“Talk to me,” Slate says, wrapping an arm around me to pull me into his chest.

I hear the steady beat of his heart, and it only makes me cry harder.

“Where’s Caelan?”

The sound of his name is like a slap to the face, and suddenly, I can’t stand being close to him. The feeling of his arms around me is too much, I need to get away.

I struggle in his arms, but he doesn’t release me, instead holding me tighter as he tries to whisper reassurance and calm me down. It has no effect because, as sweet as he might be trying to be, I can’t hear him over the sound of the drumming pulse in my ears.

“Sky, calm down!” Slate growls, damn near wrestling to keep his hold on me now as I thrash about. I know he knows something’s wrong. No doubt he can see it on my face, but he also knows I hate crying.

‘The veil is thin, and spirits roam. You let demons inside your home. One must survive until the light, or all of you will die tonight.’

I hear the voice as if it spoke inside my head, but that can’t be right… Right?

Slate’s arms loosen from around me, but I’m no longer trying to escape. His head whips from one direction to the other as if looking for someone.

“Did you hear that too?” I ask, risking sounding even crazier. I mean, what do I have to lose at this point? Caelan literally just died in my arms, and I’d been unable to help him or even see what caused it.

Or who?

For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to me until this very moment that someone else might be in the woods with us. It shouldn’t be comforting—honestly, it’s not really—but I won’t lie and say I wasn’t still stuck on the Ouija board. Between that and the way it happened and now the voice, I’m ready to run to a church.

But it could just be some sick fuck in the woods and a bad high. That kind of stuff happens, right?

Fuck, I don’t even know anymore.

‘Run, little lamb,’ another voice says. It sounds so close I whip around to check behind me, only to find nothing and nobody.

“Slate,” I gasp, reaching out and grabbing his arm, needing something to ground me. He startles at my touch, and when his eyes find mine, I see his panic. “I don’t know what’s going on, but Caelan,” I choke on the lump in my throat, unable to make myself say them aloud.

Hot tears fill my eyes, making him swim, and I blink hard, trying to clear them.

Stop being such a bitch and tell him. He deserves to know what happened and what we might be up against out here.

I suck in a deep breath through my teeth, bracing myself to say the words I would rather never say aloud, but before I can so much as open my mouth, Slate is moving. It’s probably for the best. I can tell him later. Right now, we need to move, and honestly, I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through my explanation, anyway.

My legs shake as I attempt to push to stand, but they don’t support my weight, and I crash back down to the ground. With a groan of frustration, I turn to Slate for help, but he’s no longer next to me.

Movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye, and I twist around to look over my shoulder, only to find Slate’s retreating form.

What the fuck!?

“Slate! Wait!” I call, but if he hears me, he makes no show of it as he continues on.

Again, I try to push to my feet, but my body won’t cooperate. I’m beat, dead fucking tired after everything, and it’s as if my body is shutting down.

Fuck, I’m going to die out here.

Despite not wanting to look, my eyes slowly trail across the forest floor until they reach Caelan’s foot.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I need to look away. I’m not sure my mind can handle seeing him like that again, but even knowing that, I can’t bring myself to do it.

As much as I might not want to look, I almost feel like I have to, as if some part of me doesn’t believe this is real.

Caelan can’t be dead, right? And Slate wouldn’t just leave me alone, crying in the woods…

No, this all sounds like a bad dream. Things like this don’t happen to people outside of horror movies, and as bad as my life might seem sometimes, it’s not a horror movie.

I try to hype myself up to look, but no matter what I think, it doesn’t change the fact that Cae still lies in the same spot, covered in blood and unmoving.

The second I make it to his face, I turn away. Pressing a hand to my mouth to try to stop myself from puking, but it’s no use. Seeing his blank eyes staring back at me, knowing he’ll never see a damn thing ever again, is too much. My stomach cramps with my effort to hold back before I lose the fight. Leaning over, I brace my hands on the cool ground before I throw up every last thing I’ve eaten today. Which regrettably isn’t much.

I heave and pant, wishing I had water or some damn bread as the alcohol burns its way back up my throat and out of my mouth and nose. It doesn't take long before there's nothing left, and if I wasn’t exhausted before, I sure as hell am now. All I want is to lie down and go to sleep. For this day to be a nightmare I wake up from, but as tired as I am, I doubt I could sleep here, not with Caelan right there and knowing what happened to him. Or actually, not knowing.

A scream cuts through the otherwise quiet of the forest, pulling me from my panic.

I know it’s Val. Years of friendship make the sound of my friends’ voices easy to distinguish. This time, when I push to stand, I’m not met with the same resistance of tired muscles and crushing guilt. No, right now, Val needs help, and that’s all that matters.

I failed with Caelan, but I won’t fail Val.

I can’t.