The Escape. Part 4

Mrs. Carroll didn't respond.

"Ma?" Fletcher said impatiently. "Mom?"

She grimaced. "Fletcher, honey, they found Adam." She cleared her throat. "They found Adam's body."

Eight.

The news about Adam's death spread like a stain through the school. Students with puffy eyes huddled together, talking in hushed tones. It could have been Avery's imagination, but they all seemed to be looking over their shoulders, even with the addition of two police officers walking the perimeter of the high school. A killer was on the loose, and though one student had escaped, another hadn't. Any one of them could be next.

Avery closed her locker and started when Ellison Rose smiled at her. "Hey, Avery. How you doing?"

Avery counted Ellison as one of her only friends at Dan River Falls High. She was the kind of friend who was close enough to call up, so Avery's father wouldn't think she was a poorly adjusted social outcast, but kept her distance enough to not ask about Avery's mother or anything deep.

"Okay, I guess."

"I was going to-"

"Hey, E." Ellison's boyfriend, a bulky football player named Tim, slung an arm around Ellison and gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. "I'm missing my girl."

Ellison looked momentarily torn between Avery and Tim, then tossed a "We'll talk later, okay?" over her shoulder as Tim guided her down the hall.

Avery watched them disappear into the crowded hall but couldn't understand it-the numbing aftermath of death yet the way the world just went on. There were grief counselors but she avoided them, walking down the hallway to her next cla.s.s. In front of her, a blond with a shoulder-skimming ponytail leaned in to her friend. "I was supposed to babysit my little sister tonight, but now I'm, like, no way. The guy may have been in the woods but he's probably down here in town now, right?"

Avery slipped into her cla.s.sroom before the other girl could answer, relieved to be away from the chatter. The cla.s.sroom desks had been rearranged into a loose circle, and Ms. Holly leaned against her desk. Avery prayed they were going to have a flippant conversation about Huckleberry Finn or the latest drinking scandal, but when she saw the box of Kleenex going around the room, she knew the conversation would be about Fletcher and Adam. She sat at one of the desks just as the bell rang. Tim sauntered in a moment later.

Ms. Holly stood up. "All of you probably know by now that Adam Marshall's body was found early this morning in the woods. He was deceased. Fletcher Carroll remains in the hospital and is very lucky to be alive. There is no news on exactly what happened or who is responsible." Her eyes flicked to Avery. "Is that correct, Avery?"

Avery shrugged, unwilling to add to the conversation.

"It's terrifying," Kaylee said, pressing a tissue to her perfect little ski-jump nose. "I was out with the search-and-rescue team looking for Adam. I was walking out in the forest while a killer and a dead body were out there. The killer could have seen me." She splayed a perfectly manicured hand against her chest and sniffed into her Kleenex.

Avery laid her head on her desk, trying to block out Kaylee's center-of-the-universe voice.

"There's a murderer out there," Kaylee went on, "a serial killer." She looked around, her flat, blue eyes glossy from the tears. "He could be after any one of us."

Tim leaned forward. "Don't serial killers always have a type though? Adam and Fletcher didn't look that much alike, but they were both boys, both the same age." He pressed a hand against his chest, and Avery couldn't tell if he was serious or joking. "Dude, I could be next."

"Is it true? Do serial killers have a type?" The kid next to Avery poked her with the eraser end of his pencil.

Avery pulled the sleeves of her sweats.h.i.+rt over her hands, using her thumb and forefinger to roll the fabric back and forth. "How should I know?"

"Your dad's the chief of police," the kid said, as if the connection was obvious.

Avery shrugged.

She did know that most serial killers had a type. She also knew that no one in the news or on the police force had mentioned the words "serial killer," and even if they had, the term would be a misnomer. Killers didn't become "serial killers" until they had at least three victims. Whoever did this was just a killer. Yet Avery's spine stiffened at the thought of another kid as bruised and battered as Fletcher, hooked up to hospital monitors.

"What are we supposed to do?" Kaylee asked, tears rolling over her cheeks. "The police are supposed to keep us safe. Why haven't they found this guy?"

Avery felt her nostrils flare and kept rolling the sweats.h.i.+rt fabric between her fingers to calm herself.

"How was this guy even able to attack Adam and Fletcher in the first place?"

Kaylee stared at Avery. They all did, expecting an answer because she was the police chief's daughter. But she had wondered the same thing.

"Cla.s.s, we know how to keep ourselves safe. Lock your doors, use the buddy system-"

"The buddy system didn't work out so well for Adam and that other kid," Tim said bitterly.

"Fletcher," Avery said under her breath.

"Avery?" Ms. Holly asked. "Did you say something?"

"The other kid. His name is Fletcher."

"Right. Does anyone feel like they need to talk about Adam, grief, or even death?"

Avery felt like everyone was looking at her again. Ask Avery. She's the one who went crazy when her mom died, she imagined them saying. If Ms. Holly asked her to share how it felt to lose someone you love, Avery was going to scream. She clenched her fists.

Kaylee spoke up. "I can't believe I'm never going to see Adam again."

The girl next to her rubbed her back, and Kaylee exploded in delicate tears that wouldn't smudge her makeup. Avery wondered if she had selected her outfit-light-pink top, dark-pink skirt-to accentuate her red cheeks and pink, puffy eyes.

They went around the circle sharing their feelings and memories of Adam, but it was mostly Kaylee talking about loss and prom. Avery simmered in her seat. When Ms. Holly talked about grief counselors and journaling as a way to deal with feelings about loss and death, Avery almost spit out an incredulous laugh. She knew better than any of them. She wanted to tell them what she had learned in the last year: You can't deal with death. It deals with you.

There was blood all over him. It had dried and made his skin feel so tight that every movement felt like opening a new wound. He'd never thought there would be this much blood. He turned around in a circle, surveying the trees. His heart rate had slowed from its terrified, frenetic pace, but he braced for the moment that his attacker would come back to finish him off.

He didn't know where Adam was. He couldn't remember if Adam ran or was taken, or if he'd escaped. When he saw the streaks across the trail-like from dragging feet-his saliva turned bitter and acrid while the bile filled his mouth.

Fletcher's eyes flew open, and he clawed at the neck of the hospital-issued pajamas he was wearing. He was panting, desperate to breathe, desperate for his body to feel something other than dizzying stress. What had he dreamed? He slowly closed his eyes as if doing so would make the memory gentler, but it was the same. He was alone in the forest, covered in blood and left to die.

Fletcher hadn't had much to say to her when she'd visited, but being at school where he was referred to as "that kid," as in "Adam and that kid," bothered Avery. She stepped out of the elevator on Fletcher's floor just as Officer Blount stepped in.

"Hey, Vince. Are you on duty?"

The officer wasn't in uniform, but he wore a black Dan River Falls Police Department T-s.h.i.+rt tucked into black pants, and duty boots laced halfway up his calves. He looked startled to see her.

"Hey, Avery. No, I was just checking in on Fletcher."

"That's really nice of you. Me too." She held up the only thing in the hospital gift shop that wasn't either a fuzzy teddy bear or something decorated with hearts or roses of some sort: a one-pound bag of peanut M&M's. "I brought chocolate."

Blount smiled as he held the elevator door. "I'm sure he'll like 'em. See you later."

Avery's stomach fluttered as she walked toward Fletcher's room. She had no idea what to say to him, and suddenly, a strange girl toting a pound of chocolate for someone she hardly knew seemed ridiculous. She recognized the guard on duty-another of her father's officers-and nodded before knocking on Fletcher's door.

"Avery. Hi." Fletcher moved slowly, his smile crooked due to his swollen bottom lip.

"Wow, Fletch." Dozens of flower bouquets adorned every flat surface in the room. "You're popular."

Fletcher shrugged, his smile fading. "I don't even know most of those people."

Avery wasn't sure how to respond. Then, "I brought you M&M's."

"Thanks."

Avery tucked herself into a chair while Fletcher tore open the M&M's and poured them each a handful.

"I guess you heard about Adam," Fletcher said.

Avery toed the linoleum. "Yeah, I did. Are you okay?"

Fletcher picked out a blue M&M and studied it. "Not really."

"Me neither. But you're alive. That's a good thing."

He looked at her. "I guess. Except Adam was the one everyone loved. He was good at everything."

"Being good at stuff doesn't make one person better than another."

"Still, I'm pretty sure everyone wishes he were the one who had survived."

Avery felt a stab of pain in her chest. "I don't think anyone thinks that, Fletch."

He palmed another fistful of the M&M's, chewing thoughtfully. "Everyone loved Adam. Every teacher, every parent, every student. Even you." His dark eyes settled on Avery's blue ones, and she could feel the heat race to her cheeks.

"We were friends, Adam and me," Avery said. "Like you and me are. n.o.body wishes that it had been you. Look at all these flowers."

"No one else has come to visit me. Well, except my mom."

A nurse poked her head in the door. "Visiting hours are over, hon. You're going to have to get going."

Avery waited for the nurse to shut the door. "They probably want to give you your s.p.a.ce to rest and feel better. But I'm not the only one who came to visit you. So did Officer Blount. People care about you, Fletcher."

Fletcher blinked, confusion clouding his eyes. "Who's Officer Blount?"

When Avery rode her bike through town, she noticed ribbon after ribbon in the Dan River Falls High School colors tied around tree trunks, Adam's jersey number puff-painted in glittery silver on the ribbon tails.

There was a makes.h.i.+ft memorial outside the baseball store where Adam worked too. Flowers wrapped in cellophane, teddy bears, handwritten notes, and Kit Kat bars-which Avery guessed must have been Adam's favorite-all held vigil with a number of tall, gla.s.s votive candles with Jesus or angels on them.

Avery rode back to the high school and locked her bike in the front rack. Even though the front lot was full of cars and people were milling about, it felt weird to be at school in the evening. Ominous, even.

"Aves!" Ellison was sitting on the stone wall in front of the science building, Tim next to her, thunking his heels on the concrete.

"Hey," Avery said. "I didn't know you guys were going to be here."

Tim unrolled the tube that he was holding. It was a flier. He jabbed a finger at the text. "It's a meeting for the whole town. We"-he gestured to himself and Ellison-"are townsfolk."

"People. We're townspeople, Tim. 'Townsfolk' sounds like we have to be gnomes or something." She turned her attention to Avery. "Did your dad tell you what he would be talking about?"

Avery s.h.i.+fted her weight, suddenly uncomfortable. Ellison looked genuinely curious, but something in Tim's eyes made the hairs on the back of Avery's neck p.r.i.c.k. His eyes were clouded, dark-menacing, maybe? Or was he just considering the meeting topic?

"Your guess is really as good as mine. I'm thinking its just details of the case or whatever."

Tim's jaw tightened. "Does your dad have a lead? I mean, they're going to find this guy, right?"

When Avery, Tim, and Ellison walked into the gym, nearly every one of the metal folding chairs was occupied. A few stragglers were leaning against the walls, and a handful of adults stood in front of a folding table where students and the PTA were filling Styrofoam cups with steaming coffee.

Tim and Ellison s.h.i.+mmied through a crowded row and plopped into two seats. Avery remained standing, scanning the crowd.

"We want to a.s.sure you that we are doing everything possible to find the person responsible," Chief Templeton said.

Avery headed toward the PTA table and ordered herself a coffee while her father told the community they were in no immediate danger.

She jostled toward the front of the table to pay, b.u.mping into the woolen sleeve of the woman next to her. "Oh, excuse me."

Avery looked up to see Mrs. Marshall with a cup of coffee clutched tightly in both hands, the dazzling blue of her eyes offset by the bags underneath them. Her expression didn't change when she looked Avery up and down. "h.e.l.lo, Avery."

"Hi, Mrs. Marshall."

They stared at each other for a beat of awkward silence before the chief broke in again, addressing the crowd.

"We have all available officers on high alert, and we a.s.sure you that you are safe here in Dan River Falls."

Her father looked confident and professional in his pressed uniform, but an uneasy chatter buzzed through the school gym. Avery cut her eyes toward Mrs. Marshall, who had disappeared into the crowd.

"Can you believe that?" The girl manning the PTA table took Avery's dollar and handed her a steaming coffee. "Just thinking there is a murderer in town scares me to death." The girl shuddered, rubbing her arms as if the cold went all the way through her.

Until that moment, it really hadn't occurred to Avery that the killer could be someone from town. She'd figured it was an outside threat, someone from somewhere else who happened to be in the forest. Evil didn't live in Dan River Falls.

"Yeah." Avery nodded her agreement and took her coffee, half listening to her father and his public information officer quote statistics and field questions from the audience. She scrutinized the crowd, knowing that many murderers like to insert themselves in police investigations and are most often affiliated with their victims.

The problem was that she recognized nearly everyone there. Dan River Falls was a small town. Most people were born, raised, and died within city limits. She couldn't imagine any of them hurting kids like Adam and Fletcher, let alone murdering one of them. But still, she tried to use her sleuthing to weed people out-or in.

An older man that Avery recognized as Fletcher's next-door neighbor was sitting up near her father. He was leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, his expression pensive. There was nothing overtly suspicious about him, but Avery pulled her notebook from her pocket and scrawled down his name anyway. Maybe he had been angry about the boys making noise in the street when they hung out. Maybe he had some sort of vendetta against the Carrolls, and Adam just got in the way.