Page 286 of Primal

He lurches past our hiding spot. If he so much as glances sideways, we’re busted. But he keeps walking. The world’s worst zombie extra. Muttering to himself.

Then he’s gone, swallowed by the trees.

We wait.

One second.

Five.

Kristy finally exhales. Another shaky giggle. “Was he … crying?”

“Shhh.”

“He’s hurt. Maybe we could—”

“No,” I snap.

“Don’t tell me”—she laughs—“you’re still”—hiccups—“sweet on him.”

I shoot her a glare. “What do you wanna do, huh? Hose him down again? Stab him?”

“He killed those girls. He killed Lana. And I’ll”—hiccup—“make sure he fucking”—hiccup—“pays.”

I don’t answer. My brain’s too busy replaying the worst hits:

Lana’s scream.

Vanessa’s recording.

Kade yelling at us.

My gut twists.

“What if,” I say slowly, “Kade wasn’t lying?”

Kristy scoffs, eyes blazing. “Oh, come on.”

“He said ‘He’ll kill you both.’ Not ‘I’”

“He followed you here. He was standing right under a gutted girl holding her fucking phone. He’s Ghostface. He’s the killer.”

“But what if he’s not?” My voice sounds small, stupid even to me. “All the hunters are shirtless, covered in body paint. In the dark, they pretty much look the same. I-I was only focused on the mask. What if—”

“What if nothing. He’s a deranged stalker who’d say shit like that to mess with your head.”

She’s right. She has to be right.

Because the alternative—that I hurt the one person who could’ve helped us—is worse.

“Hey …” Kristy hiccups again, her voice softer now. “If I don’t make it—”

My breath hitches. I turn to her. “We’re getting out. Together.”

She shakes her head. “No, listen. If I die, tell my kids I love them.”

Her kids? Then it hits me—her students.

“If there was something I could do to—to start over …” She swipes at her face. “Fuck. Why am I even talking about this now?”