Page 243 of Primal

I snort, check my reflection in the mirror. Flushed and wild-eyed.

Kristy’s voice echoes from the stall. “Good news. They’ve got toilet paper. I was fully prepared to wipe off with a leaf.”

Not just toilet paper but a row of vanities—each one stocked with chilled towels and little jars of charcoal face masks. Plus a tray of mini towels folded into origami skulls and lip balms labeled ‘Sinful Cherry’ and ‘Virgin’s Bite.’

I apply the Sinful Cherry balm, trying not to smile.

“You know what this place needs?” Kristy calls out. “A Prosecco tap and a hot guy with a loofah.”

“You forgot why we came here, missy.” I smack my lips together. Not too bad for someone who just got ravished by a Ghostface with a grudge and a duct tape fetish.

Kristy struts over to the sink beside me. “Oh, I remember. And I’m gonna get my fair share of Mr. Ghostface once we’re outta here.”

“Good luck.” I toss her a balm. Watch her swipe it across her lips.

“Virgin’s Bite, huh? Cute. Hope he chokes on it.”

“Come on.” I yank open the trailer door. “Let’s go find you a Ghostface.”

“What happened to the one who got stabbed? Maybe I could saunter up to him. Play nurse.”

We step off the little deck and crunch into the trail. The forest yawns ahead—flickering lights, scattered shadows, and the occasional glow stick like breadcrumbs dropped by drunk Hansels and Gretels.

Ten steps out, and she stops cold. “You hear that?”

I freeze. Strain my ears.

Nothing.

Then—crunch.

Behind us. One step. Slow. Heavy.

I whirl around, heart kicking. Kristy aims her phone toward the noise.

From the dark, something lurches into the edge of light.

A figure. Staggering. Hair matted, lace bodysuit ripped at the shoulder.

“Amanda?” Kristy calls out, lifting her phone.

Amanda’s limping—bare feet caked in mud, her false lashes clinging on. “Oh, thank God. I’ve been trying to find the bathroom for, like … forever.”

Kristy darts over and takes her arm. “Damn, baby giraffe. What happened to you?”

Amanda winces as she climbs the trailer steps, leaning hard into Kristy. “I tripped. And then I tripped again. I gave up and took off my boots. And then I got lost.”

Amanda clutches the sink.

I pass her a chilled towel. “Here.”

She whispers a soft, “Thanks,” and dabs at her face with it. “I saw your friend near the creek with that guy. The one with …” She mimes snapping her teeth. “Pigface.”

“Lana,” Kristy and I say at the same time.

Amanda nods. “She was laughing when he caught her. Not normal laughing. Scary laughing.”

I flick a leaf from her hair. “Sounds like you wandered into their zone. Good thing you made it out before it’s too late. That’s the no-limits group.”