One By One by Freida McFadden(29)

Jack looks up. “There was a clearing we passed a few minutes ago. We can camp there. It’s just for the night. I can build a fire.”

Warner’s handsome face darkens. In the moonlight, his perfectly chiseled features look almost frightening. How could poor Lindsay have fallen in love with this man? “We’re almost out of food and water, you know. We need to keep moving.”

At the mention of food and water, my stomach growls. If I found a bunch of berries right now, I don’t think I would be able to resist eating them. But the more pressing need is thirst. Jack has been sharing what was left in his water bottle, but it’s not much anymore. I could guzzle the whole thing in one go, but we’ve got to share it between the five of us.

And then in the morning, we’ll have nothing.

“I saw a couple of rabbits traveling north,” Jack says. “I’m sure if we follow their footprints, we’ll find a water source.”

Warner grits his teeth. “Contaminated with God knows what…”

As much as Michelle isn’t my favorite person, I can’t imagine leaving her here. It was hard enough leaving Lindsay. Michelle must be terrified right now. She’s holding onto her left ankle with one hand and hugging herself with the other.

It’s just dumb luck that Michelle is the one who twisted her ankle instead of me. Even though I’ve been keeping my eyes on the ground, I’ve had a few close calls with some stray branches. I could have easily fallen and sprained my ankle. And then I would be the one begging everyone not to abandon me.

“I think we should stay here for the night,” I speak up.

“Me too,” Noah says.

Warner’s face twists into a grimace. He folds his muscular arms across his chest. “You know,” he says, “I’m the one with the map.”

What is he saying? Is he threatening to go off on his own with the map, leaving us behind? Frankly, I’d prefer it if he left us alone. He gives me the creeps. I don’t know how he fooled Lindsay into thinking he was a good guy—or maybe this situation has brought out his dark side.

Then again, it makes me uneasy to think about being stranded here with no map.

“Look, we’re all tired,” Jack says. “We’ll navigate a lot better when it’s light out. And I’m not leaving my wife alone here.”

Warner stands there, the wind tousling his golden hair. He looks like he’s thinking over what to do next. Finally, he nods. “Fine. We’ll sleep here tonight.”

It looks like we’ll be setting up camp.





Chapter 16


CLAIRE



We find the clearing and settle down there. It’s not great, but at least it’s a solid open space with no trees or prickly branches. Jack suggests gathering leaves to form into makeshift beds for each of us, but it’s a far cry from the king-sized bed at the inn. If I close my eyes, I can imagine sinking into the silky sheets and memory foam mattress and pulling the down comforter over me. The image is almost painful.

But the worst part is the realization that I won’t get to speak to Emma and Aiden tonight. By now, Penny has probably put them to bed and given up on trying to reach me. I had promised Emma we would talk tonight. I imagine her lying awake in bed, her tiny forehead scrunched up with worry.

I wish I could talk to her. I would give anything to hear her voice for one minute and tell her I’m okay.

I reach into my purse, my hands shaking with desperation. Of course, there’s still no service and the battery is at five percent. The next time I take my phone out, the battery might be dead—this could be my last shot. I hold it up in the air, trying desperately to at least get one tiny bar. Just one bar.

Nothing.

I try not to think of my children or my dead best friend as I start gathering as many leaves as I can. As I’m putting together my makeshift bed, I look over at Michelle, whose right ankle is wrapped in an ace bandage from Jack’s first aid kit. Obviously, she can’t gather her own leaves.

“Do you want me to make a bed for you?” I offer. I’m trying to make nice, although I’m not sure if the gesture is quite enough to make up for, you know, sleeping with her husband.

Michelle barely lifts her eyes. “Sure.”

She could not possibly look less grateful. But then again, Michelle has never been a terribly effusive person. I start gathering some leaves for her anyway. I don’t expect her to be falling over herself to thank me. She’s injured and probably in pain.

“I sprained my ankle once,” I say.

“Mmm,” Michelle says.

I pick up a leaf from the ground that’s muddier than I thought it was. There’s mud smeared all over my hands. It’s caked in my fingernails and there’s no way to get it off without a water source. “I was going down some steps in high school,” I recall, “and I twisted my ankle on the last step.”

“Mmm,” she says again

“It happened right before junior prom.” I wipe my palms on my shorts. “I remember how upset I was. At the time, it seemed like the worst possible thing that could have happened to me. Isn’t that silly?”

I look over at Michelle, who is rifling around in her purse.

“Michelle?” I say.

“Oh.” She flashes me a bored look. “Sorry, I didn’t realize your little story was still going on. What were you asking me?”