Dead of Summer

“Do you want me to do it with you?” That playfully cruel edge is still there, still in his words and the toothy smirk he wears. “Too scared to do it alone?” He bypasses my lock screen that I’ve never bothered to secure and, while I watch, navigates to the call screen. His thumb quickly taps out the number 9-1-1 and then he hits the call button and speaker in quick succession.

All the while, he watches my face. Waiting for a reaction as I stare back at him. “Wait for it,” he assures me, as nothing happens as my phone tries to connect.

“I’m sure it’s going to happen soon.” His words are coldly amused, and he glances at my phone, still trying to connect, before looking back at me. “Oh, well, we’ll just try again, okay? I’m sure we’ll get it on the second try. I’m sure no service doesn’t actually mean no service or anything so boring as that, hmm?”

He hangs up, then dials again, before once more putting the phone on speaker after pressing the call button.

“Stop it,” I whisper, my eyes on his. Something like frustration thrums beneath my sternum, but my hands are still clutched against the bark and still shaking.

“Stop what?” Kayde’s eyes widen in a play of sincerity. “Stop what, Summer? Stop helping you call the police? I thought that’s what you wanted?—”

He breaks off when my arm comes up and I hit his hand, causing my phone to clatter to the ground somewhere near our feet. “You’re being cruel,” I sneer, my heart loud enough in my ears to chase away some of the blinding fear mixed with bitter disbelief. “You know what I meant.”

“That you’ll walk through the woods looking for service while I murder every kid at Crestview?” His purr feels so strange in the wake of his cruel coldness. “Think you’ll be able to hear them scream while you climb a tree, hold up your phone to the sky and beg for even a bar? How long do you think that’ll take, exactly? Long enough for me to murder everyone, or just Kinsley and the girls in your?—”

“Stop it!” I shriek, hands coming up again to shove him away from me. But of course, he doesn’t let me. Kayde doesn’t even need to drop the ax. He grabs my wrists in his other hand, then slams them onto the tree I’m pressed up against. The flashlight ends up on the ground between us, somehow tilted up just enough for me to see his face, to catch his movements and the glimmer of his honey-like eyes.

“Here’s what I think you should do.” He leans forward while he speaks until his body is pressed flush to my trembling form. I know he can feel it, just as I know that him sliding one knee between my thighs is completely intentional. “I think when I let you go, you should stay right here. You can sit here and wait for me, right here at this tree. I know you’ll be so quiet for me, sweetheart. You can cover your ears so you won’t hear anything. I don’t want to hurt you.”

His lips brush my ear, and my stomach twists as I jerk away as much as I’m able to, though my eyes remain fixed on Kayde’s. “Please don’t do this,” I murmur, twisting in his grip. “You don’t have to?—”

That causes him to bark out a laugh, and he shakes his head, smile incredulous. “Well, of course I don’t have to do this. No one ever said I did. No, Summer, I want to do this. I’ve been excited about this for days. I just wish you hadn’t ruined my after-plans.”

Any hopes I’d had of this being just a really bad joke evaporate when his gaze finds mine in the near darkness. A full tremble goes through me, starting at my fingers and ending at my toes that curl into the soles of my shoes. “What’s wrong with you?” I whisper at last, like I’m telling him a secret or asking him to reveal his.

I just can’t bring myself to ask the question any louder.

“What’s wrong with me?” His brows raise just a little, and I see him giving the question some real thought. “Have you ever heard ‘The Plaint of the Little Bisque Doll,’ sweetheart?” When I jerk my head from side to side, he only leans closer, until he’s once more finding the shell of my ear with his lips.

“I’ve got a pain in my sawdust.” The words are soft and faint, and I have to strain to hear them. “That’s what’s the matter with me. Something is wrong with my little inside; I’m just—” he pauses and I can feel his teeth skimming my ear. “As sick as can be.”

My stomach twists, and if it wasn’t empty, I’d be throwing up. The wave of nausea leaves me gasping, even when he lets me go and swings the ax over his shoulder to rest it there. I can hear him whistling, and Kayde leans down to pick up my flashlight from the ground, though he only turns it off and shoves it into his large pocket instead of giving it back to me.

He’s leaving. The realization hits me hard, and it’s all I can do not to slide down the rough trunk of the tree behind me, wrap my arms around my knees, and cry. Ideas and plans fly through my head, even while I hunt for my phone on the ground and shove it back into my pocket. To get to the camp, I’d have to walk by him.

And I doubt he’ll let me. I have to assume he’s faster than I am, and all it’ll take is one well-aimed blow with that ax to make it so I can’t tell anyone he’s coming. Not to mention, the only place with service in this stupid place is the drop-off lot. Which would also require me to get around Kayde.

Unless I’m willing to take him on physically, there’s nothing I can do.

Except wait for him to kill everyone.

No. Nonono. Kinsley’s face flashes through my head. Then Melody’s, Liza’s, and a slew of other kids that I know are sleeping in their bunks right now like nothing is wrong. Nausea claws at my throat, and the shaking that I’d managed to keep under control is back in full force.

I need to do something.

I need to do something now, before he clears the trees. Even if I scream, I doubt I’ll get more than one or two out of my mouth before he’s back to shut me up.

“Wait.” The word is barely a whisper on the breeze, and is eaten up by the night long before it gets to him. “Wait!” With the tree at my back, I find it hard to push away and support myself on my own feet.

I know he hears me this time, but Kayde doesn’t stop. My heart pounds, and I’m surprised it hasn’t exploded with the terror coursing through my blood.

If he’s not going to stop, then I have to stop him. The idea that I’ll be able to do so, and the thought of what I’m going to try, nearly has my lungs paralyzed and my heart hammering frantically against my ribs to escape my stupidity.

Launching off of the tree, I use it to propel myself forward, until my feet find the trail and I’m able to trip the rest of the way into Kayde, who turns in surprise and interest to look at me over his shoulder.

Well, at least he’s not already swinging.

“Wait,” I beg, gripping the back of his jacket. I bury my fingers in the slick material, letting my arms slip half around his body as I press my forehead against the spot between his shoulder blades. It isn’t fondness. It’s the fear of watching the ax come down when he inevitably gets fed up with my attempts at stopping him.