The ground is spinning under my feet and I have to clench the side of the Gazebo to balance myself.
"Oh my god."
Brittany's right eye is swollen closed. Her cheek is smeared with blood and there's a scratch on her chin like she caught it on something as she fell.
I crouch next to her and pull the duct tape from her mouth as gently as possible before I take her face in my hands.
"What did they do to you?"
Her lips quiver before she presses them closed. "We have to go, Jordan."
I nod and try to forget about the injuries but as I undo the tape around her wrists I find fingerprint-shaped bruises and wince.
"Brittany," I breathe.
Before I can ask again, she pushes her face into my neck and hugs me. "I'm okay, Jordan."
"I didn't think I'd ever see you again. I've been looking for hours," I explain. "I thought you might have left with Kyle."
She shakes her head. "Kyle's dead. He's hanging from a tree by our cabin right now."
The nonchalance of her tone takes me by surprise. I wish I could be more like her, always keeping a straight face, always managing to keep her emotions in check while I'm busy having panic attacks on the ground.
She pulls away from me, her forehead wrinkling. "J, you're bleeding." She holds her hand up to show me the red sheen on her fingertips.
I take a step back, look down at my chest and for the first time, I notice the sticky sleeve of my shirt. Roger must have landed that shot back in the cabin. I was so pumped with adrenaline I didn't notice I'd been shot but as I stare down at the slow spread of crimson against my tan shirt, my vision blurs. I've never been woozy around blood before but I can't keep myself steady.
"J?"
Brittany's words come in from miles away, warped and distorted. She's asking questions. I think. Or she's trying to soothe my fears as she pulls the jacket from my arms and lifts my shirt to get a better look at the bullet wound. She takes my face in her hands, says something with furrowed eyebrows, raises them at me when I don't respond.
My head is spinning so fast I can't keep my eyes open, but when I shut them, it only gets worse. It feels like I'm on a boat in the middle of a storm, trying to stay grounded.
"Jordan, don't pass out. You can't pass out right now," is the last thing I hear as my knees buckle under my weight.
I float in and out of half-thoughts that don't make sense, pulling closer to control when finally, they're going to kill us if I don't wake up.
It feels like only seconds have passed when I blink awake.
Brittany is kneeling next to me, winding medical tape around a patch of gauze she's holding to my shoulder.
"You'd make a hot doctor."
She shakes her head but she can't fight the smile playing on her lips as she blushes. "The swelling does it for you?" She motions to her eye.
Grace is peeking through a crack in the door. "Guys. We should really start moving. Before they show up again."
With Brittany's injuries and my spinning head, I'd almost forgotten she was with us. My head snaps up at her, but Brittany pushes on my shoulder.
"Stop moving," she orders.
I lie down again, shivering against the cold ground, and clench my teeth as fire burns through my shoulder. "How does it feel?" A frustrated chuckle escapes my lips as Grace faces us, her eyebrows pulling together in concern. I hold my arm up. The one with her work number drawn across it. "Look familiar?"
Her eyes narrow at the numbers. Her expression flicks from confused to shocked and back in a second.
"Stop moving," Brittany orders again as she pushes my arm back down.
"Why'd you do it?" I ask.
Grace crosses her arms over her chest. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Didn't think we'd figure it out?"
"Shut up, Jordan," Grace spits.
"Was Donna right? Did you really do all this for a story?"
Brittany's attention to my bullet wound doesn't waver but I can't stop here, not when the humiliation on Grace's face has already answered my question.
"Or did Zachary manage to pull you into his cult too?"
"Of course not!" she snaps.
Brittany rips a piece of tape and presses it to the gauze to hold it in place before she pulls my shirt back in place. "Come on." She grabs me under my armpit and helps me to my feet. "Has anyone called the police?"
"I haven't had reception for days," I explain as I push to my feet. "Did you guys have any luck?"
Grace scoffs. "When? In between your brother kidnapping us and tying us up?"
I turn on her, wince as the skin around my wound screams in pain. "He wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for you!"
Brittany grabs my shoulder, pulls me back. "What are you guys fighting about?"
I point to the number on my arm. "Zachary gave me this number and told me it's how he knew we were here. Donna called it and it was Grace's work phone."
Brittany raises an eyebrow at her. "Wish I was surprised."
Grace rolls her eyes.
"So, where is Donna?" Brittany asks. "If she's the only one who magically has reception, we should find her."
"We got split up when Roger attacked me."
Grace's arms drop to her sides. "You left her behind," she snaps.
"I was being chased by a man with a hunting rifle." I shake my head.
"You really haven't changed have you?" Grace looks me up and down. "This little infatuation you have with Brittany still has you making shitty decisions."
My eyebrows shoot up out of shock. She has to be joking. "You want to talk about people who haven't changed?" I laugh once. "Because if I remember correctly, that little article you wrote about me back in high school made everyone in town think I was a murderer and now you're risking all of our lives again so you can write a good piece?" My fingers ball into a fist. "Maybe I haven't changed but at least I haven't gotten worse."
Grace's nostrils flare as she lunges forward and gives me a solid push. "Fuck you, Jordan." Her tone is full of venom. "Do you think I meant for this to happen? I thought, at most, there'd be some family drama and I could hype it up in the article. I didn't think he was going to hunt us for sport."
"It's Zachary!" I'm shouting, completely lost in the moment, having forgotten our lives are in danger and Roger could be finding a different way into the shed as we speak.
Brittany rests a soothing hand on my back. "As satisfying as it is to watch my girlfriend hate her ex, we should probably get moving."
Grace and I look at her. By the expression on Grace's face, it looks like she might say something sarcastic but instead, she sighs and nods.
"What's the plan?"
Brittany's lips purse as she holds up a keyring. "I lifted these off Kyle before they..." she shivers, "anyway, the truck is parked in an empty field on the side of the main house. If we can get there, we can get out of here."
Grace holds a finger up. "We have to get Donna first."
Brittany rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Let's go before you two start bickering again."
We make our way toward the main doors when a gunshot claps through the air, ringing through my eardrums again.
Grace peeks through the window. "Fuck," she breathes.
I rush to her side to find Roger and Zachary standing closer to the edge of the lake, maybe one-hundred feet away. Donna's with them and she looks worse than before. It's not only her arms covered in blood anymore.
"What do we do?" I ask.
Brittany doesn't say anything, just stares out at Zachary as Grace whispers no no no.
I swallow the lump in my throat. "We can't leave her." I run a hand through my hair. "We have to play their game."
***
Hey all!
Just wanted to give you guys a quick update. My upload schedule will be changing to Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays when this story is finished which should be in about two or three weeks.
I've got a couple of different ideas for some horror-themed stories that I want to mess around with and I am so, so excited to see what you guys think.
Other than that, I hope you all have a lovely Tuesday!
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