Page 83 of Primal

I creep closer.

“Payton.” She darts over. “What are you doing?”

I lift a finger to my lips.

“Oh, you’re so dead, little fox.”

That’s him. And he wants me dead.

Kristy mouths, ‘Oh. My. God.’

The laughter spirals higher, wetter.

“Let’s go. Hurry.”

Ninety-nine percent sure Kade’s the killer. That’s what I think as Kristy tugs at my hoodie.

Then who barred the door?

I crush the one-percent like a bug.

At least the monster’s locked in a box … for now.

Chapter Eighteen

Kristy lurches through the trees ahead of me, her phone’s beam bobbing between trunks.

We hit the border of Sector 5. No hint we’re on the right path—only more trampled leaves and brush.

“There should be red lanterns marking the staff trail,” I whisper. “Think someone removed them?”

Kristy doesn’t answer.

I peer at her phone. Still no signal. And it’s only 1:22 am—though it feels like we came here a lifetime ago.

“Hey … you okay?”

She lets out a bark of a laugh—manic-sounding, teetering close to that edge again. “Good. Peachy-keen.”

“We should take a breather.” Before you hyperventilate.

Another crooked laugh. “Yeah. Good idea.”

Her legs give out. She crumples.

I drop into the dirt with her, arms banding her shaking frame. She stiffens before turning her head slightly, her cheek against mine.

“Thanks for finding me.” I swallow the ache. I’d be dead without her. “For believing me even if it sounded completely messed up. I don’t know what would’ve happened if—”

“Hey,” she murmurs. “Don’t forget I got you those shoes.”

My own laugh cracks me wide open.

Kristy’s fingers dig into my back. Her breath hitches against my neck. Not crying. Not yet.

We stay like this—two shattered old friends clinging to each other’s wreckage.

“Amanda,” Kristy says. “Mia. Those college brats. Think they’re okay?”