Page 66 of Kiss Slay Replay

The man in the hat runs his long, pallid tongue over his big, strange teeth. He looks at me with his foul, fiery eyes, then down at his pocket watch, then back up at me.

“Tick, tock.”

I turn on my heel and run.

I don’t know where I’m going. I can’t see through the fog, which is so dense that it’s difficult to move through, like swimming in cream.

Tick tick tick tick tick tick.

He’s following me. I hear his pocket watch and the harsh flap of raven wings overhead.

The fear is finally catching up to me. The understanding that just because I don’t trust what’s happening doesn’t mean that it isn’t happening. I’m going to endure it whether it’s real or not. Just because I woke up this morning doesn’t guarantee I’ll wake up tomorrow.

I’m running as fast as I can, but my ankle’s twisted, and every time I come down on my injured foot it feels like it’s in danger of exploding.

I listen for the ticking, and I think it’s fading. I think I’m getting away.

I’m getting away.

The ground changes underneath me. I’m not on the path anymore. I’m on gravel. The parking lot. I look down, and there’s blood everywhere. Everywhere.

Blood and clots of that black goo.

There’s the crunch of footsteps on gravel, fast approaching from a direction I can’t discern. I spin around.

Two hands emerge from the fog and pull me forward, into the haze.

9

“Don’t you dare fucking scream.” It’s Cassie.

She drags me over to the van, slides open the side door, and pushes me inside. My head smacks against Theo’s car seat, clattering a set of plastic toy keys.

Evan and Wyatt crouch in the back. Luke is up front, phone in his hands. Tanya is passed out in the passenger seat. The disturbance of my presence, punctuated by the sound of the van door closing, jolts her awake.

“Where…where am I?” Her words vibrate with fear and confusion, every breath she takes clipped and desperate. “Where’s Ravi?”

I’d prefer it if she were still unconscious.

Her head slumps forward, hair falls to one side, and I can see that she’s got a cut on the back of her neck. It’s festering the way that Danny’s did.

“The van won’t start?” I ask.

“No, we’re just parked here for fun,” Evan says. “Hanging out.”

“Ev,” Wyatt says.

“What? Sarcasm isn’t going to be what kills us.”

A raven lands on the hood of the van, eliciting a collective gasp.

“I hate these fucking birds, dude,” Luke says.

“Steph and Jace. Where are they?” I ask. “Are they all right?”

The van goes silent.

“No. Not again.”