Page 144 of Stalkers Anonymous

Nothing.

I lace my hands together and start compressions on a chest that has a piece of petrified wood sticking out of it.

“One and two and three and—”

“Hailey.” Cole drops to one knee in the gravel next to me. “Hailey, stop—”

“—four and five and six—”

Tyler’s voice comes next. “Hailey, what are you doing?”

Tyler is suddenly crouched on Lars’s other side, staring at me across the body.

“What are you doing?” he says again.

“CPR.” The word comes out flat, most of my attention still keeping count and time for my compressions. “I’m doing CPR. I’m doing— I’m doing CPR, Tyler, I’m a doctor, I’m supposed to save people, not murder them—”

“Hailey.”

“—eleven and twelve, thirteen—”

“Hailey, he’s clearly dead,” Tyler says, like he’s pointing out something deeply obvious. “Look at him. He’s got a tree through his sternum. There is no version of this where he’s alive.”

“I’m supposed to save people!” I scream, tears streaming down my face now.

“You are a wonder of medical science, Hailey, but there is nothing on earth you can do for this man.”

“I took an oath, Tyler! Goddammit!”

“We’re all very impressed with the oath. Stop pumping his chest.”

A strong hand settles on my shoulder. Light, warm, careful.

Cole.

“Hey.” His voice is soft, just for me. “It’s over. You can stop.”

The compressions slow.

Stop.

I sit back on my heels, pushing hair out of my face with bloodied hands.

The adrenaline goes out of me all at once, the way water goes out of a bathtub when you yank the plug. My hands are shaking. The vibration travels up my arms and into my chest and stays there.

Eyes watery, I risk a glance at what’s in front of me.

There’s gravel and blood pressed into my palms. Blood has soaked through the front of my pants. A dead man is at my knees, a piece of ancient tree through his torso, his head broken open on a rock, his face—

I look away. I’m going to be sick.

I’m not a murderer.

The five of them are around me now. Jessica is on the bridge above us, hands flat on the railing, looking down. Grant is beside her, both cameras still rolling. Zach, ten feet back, is scanning the dark for anyone who might have heard the commotion. Cole is on his knees beside me. Tyler is still on the other side of the body, staring across at me like he feels sorry for me.

Nobody says anything for a very long time.

Eventually, Tyler breaks the silence. He looks down at Lars, then at the petrified branch and the rock. The blood on the gravel. The cameras still rolling on the bridge above us.