Where Silence Gathers (Some Quiet Place #2)(38)

“Hey, you.”

Though I’ve been expecting it, the sound of Briana’s voice still makes me jump. My blood pumps faster and harder as I open my mouth to greet my friend, attempting to hide the fury that’s reared it’s beautiful-hideous head again.

“ … think it’s a good idea, Billy,” Georgie is saying, the wind carrying the worried statement to us. Briana reaches me and turns at the same time I do.

“I think it’s a great idea!” Billy slings his arm around Georgie’s neck and steers her toward his truck. She’s so drunk she can barely stay standing. How long was I talking to Forgiveness? Everyone is suddenly running to their cars. Someone trips and no one helps him up. There are a few Emotions among the group, but not as many as usual; alcohol numbs us. Maybe that’s why we like it so much.

“What’s going on?” I ask Briana, momentarily forgetting Revenge and his betrayal. I take one step in Georgie’s direction, wondering if I should intervene. She hates it when we do that, though. Worry is here, twitching between us and touching our backs with hesitant fingers. The wind is getting stronger and the sky is even darker.

Frowning, Briana just shakes her head, but Faith is grabbing the cooler and overhears me. “They’ve got it in their heads to go to the mines,” she answers, glowering. Her cross glints in the dying firelight. “See who’s brave enough to go in.”

The door to Billy’s truck slams, and then the headlights flick on. Too late, Briana starts to run toward them. “Georgie, wait!” she calls, her voice rising in panic. Billy just laughs and reverses. I can see Georgie’s silhouette as she drapes herself over his shoulder. He must have rolled down the window, because the sound of her drunken “Star-Spangled Banner” drifts through the air just before the truck drives out of view.

Seething, Briana runs back to the shoreline and seizes my wrist. “Idiots!” she hisses, tugging at me. We head for her car. The interior smells like pot when I get in. Ethan did just borrow it, after all. Usually Briana tries to cover up the smell with perfume, but tonight she just starts the engine and follows the parade, a line deepening between her eyebrows. “This is so stupid. The boards are probably rotting in there. Even when the mines were functioning, they never let us—”

“It’ll be okay. We’ll get Georgie.” I may not have drunk much, but it doesn’t really sink in until right now how badly this could go. Suddenly a new fear presents itself. I stare at the taillights ahead of us, trying not to let it show how anxious I am. Everyone left in a hurry; there are probably a lot of drunk drivers on the road. Wobbling, squinting, slurring. A vile taste surges up in the back of my throat and I turn my head to force it back down. And in that moment, the rain begins to come down. It doesn’t begin with the gentle pitter-patter it usually does, the gradual increase of ferocity. The downpour lashes at the side of the car. Briana switches her wipers on, swearing under her breath. She never swears.

While I’m watching her, trying to think of how I can stop the night from spiraling out of control, I hear it again.

Alexandra.

I’m looking right at Briana when it happens, and she doesn’t even blink. The voice really is entirely in my head. There’s something so familiar about it, so infuriatingly out of reach. Gritting my teeth, I twist away and concentrate on the rivulets of water quivering down the glass. Revenge said I wasn’t crazy, but I can’t trust anything he says. Not anymore. Maybe this unraveling isn’t just because of Nate Foster or the choice.

William, don’t.

Madness has touched my family before.

“They probably won’t do it,” Briana says, almost to herself. “They’ll chicken out.”

Thunder shudders through the mountain again. We’re getting closer. Even if the sign wasn’t there, announcing the truth of it in glowing letters, I would know. There’s a sensation in the marrow of my bones, not just dread or fear or worry—it’s like I’m about to step onto that rickety elevator myself and plunge into the darkness.

The mines. The mines. I’m remembering that moment in my room again, when I heard something besides my name. I’ve tried to convince myself it was one of those waking dreams, something that felt real but couldn’t be.

But in this moment, I know the mines aren’t empty.

My best friend is chewing her lip so hard her teeth are taking skin. To fill the black hole of silence sucking us in, I blurt, “Billy’s dumb enough. He might. He won’t get far, since the elevator is shut off. But there is a ladder beside it, for emergencies. It’s made of metal. It’ll probably hold his weight. My dad took me down a couple times, so I might be able to remember the tunnels if someone gets lost.” I keep babbling, managing to distract one of us, at least. My words are only making things worse for Briana.

Fear is sitting in the backseat, eyes closed, nostrils flaring as he inhales the scent of our mutual terror. One corner of his mouth tilts up in a tiny smile. Images flit from Briana’s mind to mine. She’s picturing Georgie on the ladder, the whites of her eyes bright in the gloom as she clutches the bars. Then her foot slips. She falls. The sound of her scream echoes in my ears.

“Briana,” I breathe, wanting it to stop. “Don’t worry. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“How do you know?” she whispers. Her grip on the steering wheel is as tight as mine is when I’m sitting in front of Nate Foster’s house.