Page 88 of Buried in the Woods Below

My foot slips.

I crash face-first into a puddle, mud splattering my arms, my chest, my face.

For a beat, silence. Then Eric snorts. He tries to hold it in, but when I start laughing, he doubles over, his bass chuckle ringing through the trees. And just like that, we’re both standing in the rain, breathless and soaked, his hair dripping, my clothes ruined, laughing like children. It’s as though all the pent-up fear, tension, and sadness burst out in a symphony of laughter.

He hoists me off the ground, tears running from his minty eyes. His sleeve brushes my cheek as he wipes away a smear of mud. We’re inches apart, and his eyes—God, his eyes—

Then his expression changes.

His smile drops, and at first I wonder if he’s worried I’m going to make another move on him. Don’t worry, Eric. I’ve learned my lesson.

But then I see his forehead bunch and his eyes squint as though he’s spotted something in the water. My smile fades as I watch his transformation.

The color drains from his face. His mouth falls open. His eyes widen in raw, silent horror.

“Eric?”

He doesn’t answer.

His gaze burrows into the water behind me.

I pivot—

And that’s when I see it.

A shape. An outline in the darkness.

Human.

A body, floating in the water just feet from the shore. Bobbing, lifeless, like forgotten refuse.

We both step forward as though propelled by an invisible force, in disbelief at what we’re seeing.

The body drifts toward us, and I freeze. My skin goes cold. A bitter taste spreads in my mouth.

The pink scrunchie.

Laelynn.

My stomach hollows. The ground lurches.

Her body, bloated and pale, tangled in the reeds on the lakeshore. The water laps at her arms, her yellowed fingers curled in a violent clench.

The carousel screams.

Chapter 40

Eric sprints toward Laelynn’s body and wades into the choppy water. He wraps her in his arms like a newborn and carries her to the sand, then drops to his knees, his jeans and T-shirt soaked through. His face twists in pain and shock as he stares at her mottled, sallow skin.

Time bends.

“Laelynn,” he says in a broken whisper as he clutches her hand in his. “Oh my God, my baby.” He kisses her gently, a string of spittle clinging to the lake water on her fingers.

I step back, my heart in my throat. Seeing Laelynn’s face in the dim storm light, I can hardly believe it’s her. Her rich, dark skin now a sickly shade of blue. Her bright brown eyes, sharp with intelligence, now cloudy and opaque. Her body, a coiled spring, now bloated and stiff. How could this happen?

Tears crash down Eric’s face like rain, and he crumples over as if someone stabbed him in the gut. His face is pure pain, stripped of hope or joy. His cheeks sag and his eyes run red. He swallows as if he’s choking. I step closer to comfort him, but then the smell hits me, a nauseating mix of putrefaction and stale water. I gag but do my best to hide it.

“Eric, I’m so sorry,” I say, placing a hand on his back. My words sound distant, and my limbs feel light, like I’m floating outside myself. His body trembles underneath my palm, soft, then hard.