Page 82 of Primal

“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?”

“I’m … sorry.” For what happened. For not knowing what to say to fix any of this. “Look—when we get out of here, let’s go somewhere. Just like old times.”

“Not really,” she whispers.

A sob clogs my throat.

Because Lana’s dead.

The words don’t fit inside my skull. They’re too big, too jagged. Like trying to swallow a fucking lightbulb.

Don’t lose it now.

Kristy wipes her nose. “Where do you think he went?”

“The Sanctum.”

“Bet he’s scrubbing his eyes raw right now.” A bitter chuckle. “Good.”

I open my mouth—something dumb about giving him a chance to explain—then snap it shut.

Why bother defending Kade? Whatever we had? Gone. Like Lana. Jessica. Vanessa.

Kristy flicks on her flashlight. “Ready?”

My fingers tighten around the pepper spray. I nod.

We peek around the potty. No sign of Kade or Ghostface or any other monsters. Just trees. And the trail beckoning us forward.

Out of these shitty woods.

Out of this shitty night.

The Cleanse Your Filth trailer is up ahead. The door isn’t merely shut though. There’s a rusted metal latch slung across the frame, the kind meant to keep something out. Or in.

Kristy doesn’t even look twice.

I do.

Is Kade inside?

And if he is … who the hell barred the door?

“Kristy …” I whisper.

She cocks her head. We both hear it.

Laughter.

“Told you,” Kristy mutters. “Psycho’s celebrating in there.”