Chapter 9

Nine

Skyler

Bishop finally got me up. I knew we needed to keep moving, but fuck was it hard. I’d explained everything to Bishop at the bottom of the hillside as he held me. The words spilled out, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to freak him out any more than he already was, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. He’d taken it better than I thought he would, but I think that might have had something to do with me losing my shit.

The rain makes climbing the hill difficult, so we end up taking the long way around.

“I swear I heard someone say something before Slate bolted. I’m almost positive he heard it too, but I never got to ask him,” I say, feeling crazy admitting it aloud.

“Fuck!” I thought he was saying it in response to what I’d just told him, until I slam into his back. I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t even realized he’d stop walking.

“What the hell, Bish,” I complain, rubbing at my nose. Bishop might not be as big as the others, but fuck me, running into him is like hitting a brick wall all the same.

“Don’t look, Sky,” he says, and the tremble in his voice tells me something’s wrong.

I ignore him, quickly making my way around him, and instantly regret it.

Price lays against a cluster of fallen trees, his head bent forward and a larger branch sticking out of his chest.

“Oh, God,” I breathe, shaking my head, taking a step back into Bishop’s chest.

His arm goes around me, catching me before my legs give out, and I can’t stop the scream that rips from my throat as Price lifts his head and looks our way.

Price’s eyes are yellow, glowing so bright in the darkness that they're hard to look at. They light up his face, showing off his bruises and cuts and the trail of blood that leaks from his mouth.

His lips turn up in a smirk when his eyes lock with mine, and a chill runs down my spine. The memory of Caelen’s red eyes flashes through my mind, and my body screams for me to run.

“We can’t do anything for him, Sky,” Bishop says, as he tries to pull me along, away from him. His words shake and I know this is hard on him as well. Price is our friend, but he’s right, and I know it pains him to say it. I can hear it in his voice, but I can’t bring myself to be upset about that.

I don’t want Price to suffer, but that isn’t Price.

“Let’s go,” Bishop says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up the hill, which is less steep here.

I follow him blindly, letting him guide me, unable to pull my eyes away from the yellow ones that follow my every move.

‘You can run, but you won’t survive.’

The words echo in my mind just like before with Slate, and I know I didn’t imagine it this time. I keep quiet and Bishop says nothing about hearing a voice as he drags me with him. I get the feeling this message was only for me.

We make it to the top of the hill, but even with him left at the bottom, it feels like I can still feel his eyes on me. My skin crawls, but I ignore it, determination filling me with every step as we make it further and further from him.

We’re going to get the fuck out of here.

I hear the river at the top of the hill, and we decide to head toward it. If nothing else, we should be able to follow it back to the beach.

It doesn’t take long to find it, the rushing water guiding us through the otherwise quiet forest.

“Did you hear that?” Bishop asks, and we stop, both of us listening to see what we can hear.

At first, I hear nothing but the water. After a few seconds, I hear the rustle of leaves and movement not far from us. Before I can tell him I hear it, something breaks out of the trees and slams into us, sending us to the ground hard.

Fuck, what now!?

I groan, pushing up to sit and find not only Bishop here, but someone else.

“Bridget?”

“Sky?” she yells, and once again, I find myself on the ground as she throws herself at me.

“Fuck, I’ve been running around in the dark forever!” she cries, burying her face in my chest as she tries to squeeze the air from my lungs.

Usually, I’d say she was being dramatic, but if her night has been anything like ours, I don’t doubt she’s been running around like crazy.

“Where’s Holt?” Bishop asks, pulling Bridget’s attention away from me and toward him. She quickly lets me go and pounces on him, and I hear him hit the ground much the same way I had.

“It was terrible, Bish. We woke up to the rain and decided to head back to the beach,” she sobs, her words muffled as she presses into his chest. “Everything was fine one second, and the next, he was saying he couldn’t see. I thought it was just dark, so I grabbed my phone for a light…” she trails off with a whimper, and I know she’s not faking it.

Bridget fakes a lot of things, but I know her well enough to spot the difference.

“His eyes were white and glassy, and he ha—” she breaks off with a sob, and I move toward them, trying to offer her comfort.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her, but my words seem to do the opposite.

Pulling back, she barks a sarcastic laugh in my face.

“Nothing’s okay!” she shouts before once again burying her face in Bishop’s chest.

What the hell?

I look at Bishop, but he’s once again focused on Bridget.

“He had blood leaking from his eyes, and he was scratching. He kept saying it felt like something was crawling on him, but there was nothing there.” She hiccups as she draws in ragged breaths, but I don’t move to calm her.

Bishop seems to have it covered.

“It was terrible!” she wails, breaking down in tears, but she keeps going. “It was so scary. I dropped my phone and took off. I didn’t know what else to do, and I’ve been running around alone since!”

Bishop’s head snaps up, like he thinks I might be of some help, but I've got nothing. He rubs her back and lets her cry, while I sit and wait for her to get it all out so we can get moving again.

“We never should have played with that damn Ouija board. This is all my fault!” she gasps and I know she wants someone to deny it.

But I’d be lying if I hadn’t had the same thought a few times tonight.

“What?” Bishop asks, but I wave him off, not wanting to fuel her hysteria further. We just need to get out of here.

Unfortunately, Bridget has no problem explaining what happened. She almost seems eager to share as she goes over every damn detail of the night from the time they dropped us at her house until she insisted we try the Ouija board. Everything is exactly as I remember it until it isn’t.

“Sky should have stopped me,” she says with a huff, catching me off guard.

Um, what?

Bridget pulls back from Bishop to look up at him, ignoring me as if I’m not even here.

“Sky is so perfect, and everyone likes her just the way she is. She doesn’t have to try to make everyone love her, they just do! I just want to be accepted and not have to compete with her!” she whines, and I don’t need to see her face to know she’s pouting. This is the Bridget I’m used to, the one who needs to be the center of attention no matter what's happening.

At least she didn’t let the horrors of tonight change her.

I scoff at her as she tries to turn this on me, but I’m used to it, so I stay quiet other than that.

Clearly, I’d been a bit too loud, though, because she whips her head toward me, and I can feel the glare she shoots my way.

“Bridge,” Bishop tries to get her attention back to him, no doubt feeling the thick tension in the air, but it’s no use.

“Perfect little Sky and all her glory, I don’t know what they see in you!” she says before she lunges at me, and this time, she’s not looking for comfort.

My head hits the ground hard enough that stars burst in my eyes, and I’m momentarily blinded.

“Let’s see how much they love you when you're not so perfect anymore,” Bridget hisses in my ear before pulling back.

My vision comes back just in time to see her eyes glow a bright green before her fist comes down on my face, whipping my head to the side.

“Woah, Bridget!” Bishop yells, and I hear him move, but I can’t see him past her.

“They will be mine!” she shouts as she draws her arm back to hit me again. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I don’t care to ask either.

Before she can hit me again, Bishop snags her arm, stopping her, but only for a moment. Bridget growls in annoyance before swinging her other hand. Thankfully, this hit isn’t as hard, but it still hurts.

Bishop doesn’t seem to be enough to stop her, but the hit is enough to snap me into moving.

I buck up, and she tips to the side. For a second, I think I’ve got her, but she reaches out and grips my hair, pulling me with her. We roll around on the ground as I fight to get her off of me, and she fights to, well, kill me, I think.

A stick stabs into my thigh, and I hiss through my teeth at the sharp pain of it piercing through my skin. Bridget takes my momentary distraction as a chance to attack and once again starts to wail on me.

Without Bishop to hold her back, her fists rain down on me one after the other. I feel warm blood as it drips from my nose over my lips, but I can’t even catch my breath to call for help.

Fuck, if she keeps up like this, she’s going to bash my skull in, and right about now, I think that might be her goal.

“They all would choose you over me, but not for long,” Bridget says without missing a beat, laughing like a crazed person.

I reach for something, anything, to help me and almost cry out in relief when my fingers graze the cool surface of a stone. It’s not very big, smaller than the palm of my hand, but it’s better than nothing.

With all the strength I have, I swing my arm out, slamming the rock into the side of her head.

I expect her to pause or ignore the hit completely, but instead, she goes down like a sack of shit, falling to the side in the dirt and leaves with a thump that sounds like it hurts, but I can’t be bothered to care.

The second I’m free, I scramble back. Bishop’s there, his hands reaching out to cradle my face.

“Fuck, Sky, I couldn’t get her off you. It was like she lost it. I thought she was going to kill you!” he rambles, pulling me into his chest with a sigh of relief. I wince at the feel of his shirt as it presses into the tender skin of my cheek, but I don’t move away.

“How did you stop her?” Bishop asks after a second, pulling back to look at me again. I’m sure he can’t see half of it in the darkness, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

I turn to look at Bridget. Half of me is in disbelief over what just happened and half of me needs reassurance that she’s still out. She lies exactly where she fell. Slowly, I turn back to Bishop, holding up my hand where I still cling to the rock like a lifeline.

Unable to see, he reaches out, mumbling a curse when understanding dawns on him. I half expect him to be upset that I hit her, but he remains quiet.

“Come here,” he says, pulling me back into his arms, and it takes me a second to realize I’m on the verge of hyperventilating.

I guess having your best friend try to beat you to death might do that.