Secrets Never Die (Morgan Dane #5)(62)

He left the cave, shivering as he passed through the mist. In order to reach the trees, he navigated a series of jagged wet rocks. Water swirled and eddied around them. He moved slowly, placing each foot with extreme care. He had to make several trips across. He filled the nylon bag with dried pine needles and small pieces of bark. He cradled larger logs one by one with his uninjured arm. By the time he’d accumulated a decent stockpile of dry wood, he was exhausted, and it was dark. He finished the bottled water, but it wasn’t enough to quench his thirst. His vision blurred, and he squeezed his eyes closed a few times to clear it. He was dehydrated.

Without some help, Evan doubted he’d survive. The need for water drove him to risk the treacherous trip to the lake in the dark.

Please let Rylee or Jake be at the lake tonight.

Either one of them would surely bring him supplies.

He crossed the water with painstaking care and started down the trail that led to the lake, moving carefully and stopping to listen every few minutes. As he drew closer, voices carried from the beach. He could see the lake. Under the overcast sky, it lay as black and shimmery as an oil slick.

The faint smell of smoke scented the air. More than anything, Evan wanted to go back to the days when getting caught setting an illegal bonfire at the lake was the worst of his worries. His arm burned, and mosquitoes swarmed around him as he crouched behind a fallen tree and scanned the beach. Twenty teenagers sat on the sand, smoking cigarettes in groups and talking. The cops were always chasing the kids off the beach when the kids weren’t doing anything wrong. Why was it illegal to be on the beach after dark?

Evan scanned the gravel parking area. His heart leaped when he saw Rylee’s old car. She was here. She would help him. At least she would bring him water and blankets. He looked for her on the beach and spotted her sitting in the sand. She was hugging her knees and staring into the fire. Kids clustered in small groups around her.

How could he contact her without showing himself to any of the other kids? His gaze swung back to her old Buick. The door lock on the driver’s side was broken, so she never bothered to lock any of the doors, not that anyone would want to steal her POS. The car barely ran.

Crouching, Evan ran toward her car. The effort of the short sprint winded him. He popped his head up to make sure no one was around, then opened the rear door. The dome light seemed as bright as a floodlight as he climbed into the back seat. The door made a squeaking sound as he gently pulled it closed, trying not to make too much noise. The dome light didn’t go out. Panic wormed through his belly. The heavy door hadn’t closed completely. Someone was going to see the light. He quickly opened the door and pulled harder. It shut with a noise that sounded deafening.

Praying that no one on the beach heard or saw him get into the car, Evan huddled in the dark behind the driver’s seat. Minutes passed. Sweat dripped down his back, followed by a cold shiver. His fever was rising again.

Footsteps crunched on gravel. Evan’s pulse spiked. The driver’s door opened with the familiar rusty squeal. He peered around the headrest. Rylee! Relief weakened his muscles.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Rylee startled. Raising her hands in a defensive posture, she turned and stared at him for a second. “Holy shit. You scared me to death.”

He cleared his throat. There was no need to whisper. No one could hear them. “Sorry.”

“Oh, my God, Evan. Are you OK? Where have you been? Everyone is looking for you.”

“I know.” He glanced around. The parking area still looked clear. “No one can find me. But I need help.”

Voices approached.

“Get down out of sight.” Rylee faced forward and lifted her phone, pretending to send a text.

Evan ducked behind the seat.

“OK. It’s cool. They’re gone.” Rylee glanced back at him, her eyebrows scrunched with worry. “You look like shit. Are you hurt? On the news, they said you could have been shot.”

“I was. In the arm. It’s bad.” Somehow, talking about his wound made it hurt more. More dry tears pressured his eyes. “I need help.”

“OK.” Rylee’s jaw tightened. “What can I do?”

“I need water and a blanket.”

“I can get those.” Rylee nodded.

“I’m pretty sure my arm is infected. Do you have any antibiotics at your house?”

“I don’t know,” Rylee said. “I don’t think so, but I’ll look.”

“Thanks.” Evan couldn’t conceal his disappointment.

Rylee turned to stare between the seats at him. “Seriously, you look bad. Do you want me to contact your mom? She’ll know what to do.”

Evan knew he wouldn’t survive much longer on his own. For a minute, he balanced his own life with placing his mother in potential danger. She’d always told Evan that he was her world.

“You’ll have to be careful.” He gave Rylee his mom’s cell phone number. “I’m sure the police are watching her. They think I killed Paul.”

“I’ll make sure no one is listening before I tell her anything,” Rylee assured him.

Evan leaned his face on the back of the seat. The vinyl was cool against his cheek. “Aren’t you even gonna ask me if I did it?”

“No.” Rylee’s lips curled in anger. “I know you wouldn’t shoot Paul. Anyone who thinks you did is an idiot.”