One By One by Freida McFadden(46)

I waited and waited. After fifteen minutes, I was sure she was going to call me back in. But she didn’t. The sun went down and I was still out there. Waiting.

I was out there for three hours. She finally let me in for dinner. By then, my fingers and toes and the tips of my ears were bright pink and I couldn’t feel them. I was scared I had frostbite and needed to see a doctor. I once read a story about a man who got frostbite when he was lost in a blizzard, and they had to remove part of his nose.

I ran my fingers under warm water but the feeling wouldn’t come back. My mom watched me, clucking her tongue impatiently. She still towered over me—I was the shortest kid in my class. Most people thought I was three or four years younger than I was.

“I told you it’s dinner time,” she said. “If you don’t want to participate, you can go back outside.”

“I can’t feel my fingers.” I tried to make a fist with my right hand. They moved, but slower than I wanted. “I need a doctor.”

She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just eat your dinner.”

“What’s for dinner?” I asked.

“Do you think I’m your servant?” She blinked at me. “You can make your own food, can’t you?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. When my dad was around, we ate well. His favorite meal was pork chops with apple sauce. He also liked my mom’s lasagna. But when he wasn’t around, I usually had to fend for myself.

I backed away from the sink and went to the refrigerator. My mom would not let me use the stove, so my choices were limited. I pulled out a loaf of bread and some peanut butter. My fingers were clumsy, but I managed to make myself a peanut butter sandwich. I only dropped the knife twice.

The next day, there were blisters on my hands and feet. When I went to school, I hoped my teacher would notice and send me to the school nurse, so I could be seen without getting in trouble. But nobody noticed. No surprise there—my teacher had spider veins all over her nose and smelled like alcohol in the morning.

My fingers ended up okay after all though. I got the feeling back and the blisters healed. You can’t even see where they were anymore.

Two days later, when I pulled my favorite T-shirt out of my dresser drawer, I discovered there was a piece of chewed-up gum stuck to the shirt that had been there for days. I couldn’t get it off.





Chapter 27


CLAIRE



“What was that?”

I sit up straight on the ground, my heart pounding. The sun is just starting to peek up over the horizon, bright enough that I can see Noah still asleep beside me. But when I look up across the dead embers of our fire from last night, I discover the other two members of our party are gone.

“Noah.” I shake his shoulder. “Wake up…”

Noah groans and rubs his eyes with the balls of his hands. Like me, he’s been wearing the same clothes for the last two days, and now he’s getting closer to a full-on beard. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I heard a gunshot.” I hug my knees to my chest. “And Jack and Warner… They’re gone.”

“A gunshot?” Noah frowns. “But I’ve got the…” His hand goes to his side and touches only empty dirt. “Shit.”

I squeeze my hands together. I definitely heard a gunshot. But I don’t know where it came from. Where are Jack and Warner? And which one of them has the gun?

There’s a rustling sound that comes from the wilderness to our right. Noah and I exchange looks. I swallow. “Should we… go look for them?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll go check it out. You stay here.”

“No way.” I shiver inside Noah’s hoodie sweatshirt. “I’m not staying behind.”

“Claire…”

“If you’re going, I’m going.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “But just… stay behind me.”

We stand up, brush the dirt off our clothing best we can, and move in the direction of the rustling noise. Even though we’re hoping to find Jack or Warner, it doesn’t mean they’re the ones making the noises. It could be a wild animal. We could be walking into a very dangerous situation.

The woods are relatively quiet except for the sound of some birds chirping. I keep my eyes ahead of me, but keep checking the ground to make sure I don’t trip like Michelle did. If I twist my ankle, what will happen to me? Will they leave me behind? I don’t think Noah would do that, but I don’t want to find out.

Noah pushes his glasses up his nose as he peers into the distance. “I see somebody.”

“Who?”

“I think… it’s Jack.”

I try to see over Noah’s shoulder, but he holds up his hand to keep me behind him. I squint into the distance, and can just barely make out Jack’s silhouette. It’s a relief. At least he’s still alive.

“Jack!” Noah yells.

For a moment, we are met with only silence. But then the Jack-like silhouette turns in our direction. It’s him. And he’s got the rifle in his hand.

And Warner is nowhere to be seen.

“Jack!” Noah calls one more time as he waves his hand.

Jack waves back. He starts back in our direction, limping slightly on the uneven ground. I’m limping too. My feet are one big mess of blisters. I’m afraid to even look.