ACT I, CHAPTER FOUR
❛ you put my heart in motion❜
content: violence, blood/gore, sexual content.

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     Evie kept an eye on Misty Quigley as she wrapped makeshift bandages around Mari Reyes' bleeding forehead. Misty was going person to person, giving tips on how to better set this bone, cover this wound, elevate this sprained ankle . . . Like the world's most cheerful warfield medic.

Evie had never liked Misty . . . so it was strange to see everyone listening to her and following her directions, like she hadn't just chopped Coach Scott's leg off fifteen minutes ago. Misty'd been too eager, in Evie's opinion, to do something so violent. Now Coach was probably going to bleed to death from Misty's axe wound before help could even get here. But nobody even seemed to care. It was infuriating.

Evie yanked too hard on the bandage, and Mari cried out.

"Jee-sus, Caulfield!" Mari complained. "You trying to crush my skull?"

"Maybe." Evie tied a knot in the fabric and dropped her hands. Mari had a pained expression on her face. Evie sighed haughtily. "Pressure will stop the bleeding! You should be thanking me."

Evie left Mari to her ungrateful self. As she made her way closer to the plane, still smoking in the midday sun, she observed the other survivors as they hurried around her. The adrenaline of the crash was only just beginning to wear off. People were gathered in small groups throughout the woods, aiding others with their injuries. Fortunately, nobody was screaming.

Evie passed by a JV girl with a broken arm sobbing as another girl set the bone with a stick and some bandages torn from t-shirts. "Hold still," she said. "I know it hurts, but this is the best we can do until the rescue team shows up." The JV girl hung her head and tried to stop crying.

Evie swatted at a cloud of gnats she passed through. Of all places to crash, why did it have to be in the middle of the woods? Evie'd never been an outdoors person, and she was already sick of the muggy air, the bugs, and the dirt sticking to the sweat on her face. If anything, this felt like a nightmare. A bloody, sweaty, terrible fucking nightmare. Evie wasn't too sure this was even real. Maybe the whole plane crash was a figment of her imagination, something her hungover, Xanax-induced brain concocted to stay occupied on the flight. Maybe she'd wake up in Seattle, safe and far away from the mosquitos and the fear.

And honestly, believing this was only a dream was the sole reason Evie hadn't broken down, yet.

Evie found Lottie standing near the plane, digging through a bag for supplies. There was dried blood spattered on Lottie's face. Evie stooped down beside her friend, lifting the hem of her shirt to help wipe the blood off. Lottie startled, but went still when she realized Evie was helping.

"You've got blood on your cheek," Evie explained.

Lottie squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't even know whose blood it is."

"Best not to think about that." Evie dropped her shirt back down once she'd deemed Lottie clean. Lottie looked up at Evie with melancholy eyes. "All done," said Evie. "You doin' ok?"

"Besides the fact we just crash-landed in the Rocky Mountains? Yeah, I'm doing amazing."

Evie frowned. "It'll be over soon. Just like a bad dream," she assured Lottie. "Before you know it, we'll be back in Wiskayok drinking bourbon and eating pasta." That, or I'll wake up in Seattle on a plane that didn't crash. This might be just a dream.

"I guess," said Lottie. And though she didn't exactly look happy, Evie's words must have helped slightly, because her brows had unfurrowed.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, at least we didn't have to volunteer to babysit the Dead-Face." Evie nodded her head toward where an unconscious Kay Jang lay, guarded by a watchful Nat Scatorccio. "We can take inventory of supplies. Better than getting more blood on us."

Lottie didn't seem convinced. She glanced over at Kay. "She must be hurt pretty bad if she hasn't woken up, yet."

"Yeah." Nat was placing her hand on Kay's forehead, checking for fever. Kay didn't even stir. Evie winced. "Maybe she just needs the rest. We did have a pretty shitty day."

Lottie shrugged. Before Evie could say something more to comfort her, Misty staggered through the trees and stopped near Coach Scott. Evie bristled and turned to face her. Something about Misty just didn't sit right with her after the whole axe scenario.

Misty bent down and lifted the bandage on Coach Scott's leg, assessing the wound. "Alright, bleeding's slowing down! We need to disinfect it somehow." She considered the possibilities for a second. "Maybe something from the bar cart?"

"There wasn't one," said Lottie as she stood up. "I mean, it was just soda. It's cheaper that way."

Fantastic. No liquor. Evie could really use a stiff drink.

"Maybe somebody brought contraband," Laura Lee suggested, looking at Nat as the Scatorccio girl approached. Everyone nearby faced Nat expectantly, too. If anyone on that plane had brought pain meds, it was the burnout.

"Okay. Wow." Nat scowled and leaned against a tree gloomily.

"Well, did you?" asked Misty.

"Obviously," Nat replied. "But I stashed it in my bag, and God knows where that is now."

Well, shit. The meds wouldn't do any good if they were scattered throughout the Rocky Mountains. This was disappointing. Evie might've wanted a pain med, too. If only to dull her anxiety.

"Guys, how about this?" Van held up a bottle of witch hazel she'd grabbed from a suitcase.

"Hey, that's mi—" Jackie started, but cut herself off when she saw the glare Van was giving her. "I mean . . . That's, uh, a great idea, Van."

Van didn't look away from Jackie as she handed the bottle to Misty. Evie sensed some unspoken argument passing between them, and wondered what could've made usually-chipper Van so angry.

"Witch hazel, isopropyl alcohol . . . Actually, this could work!" Misty unscrewed the cap to the witch hazel and tipped it over onto Coach's wound.

Soon as the liquid streamed on his amputation, Coach Scott sat bolt upright and screamed out in pain. Evie grimaced and covered her ears.

"Lie back. Lie back!" demanded Misty. Taissa had rushed over to help lay Coach back down. Coach obliged, but he still groaned and twitched in agony.

"Jesus! Fuck, my leg!" Coach yelled between panting breaths. "Oh, fuck. Is it bad?"

Probably worse than you think, thought Evie as she stared at the empty space where his foot should be.

The silence from the girls only made Coach visibly more worried. "How bad is it?"

"Well, the good news is I—" Misty started.

"You're gonna be fine, Coach," Taissa interrupted before Misty could tell him exactly what she'd done. "You got pretty banged up, but Misty's doing a really good job. Right, Misty?"

Misty and Taissa exchanged a look. Taissa grabbed Misty's arm and pulled her aside to give her a talking to. Good. Maybe Taissa could knock some normalcy into Misty's head.

Lottie turned to Evie. "At least he's awake, now," she said.

"Yeah," said Evie. "Now he just needs to stay as far away from Misty as he can."

━━━

"Aim higher."

The sound of her father's voice startled her but she kept her bow steady. A white-tailed deer stood in a serene clearing, russet-colored leaves drifting to the forest floor, strangely silent. This far downwind, the deer sensed nothing amiss, its head bowed to pick at the yellowing autumn grass.

"I said aim higher." Beside her, In-su Jang reached over and lifted his daughter's bow. The arrow's sharp point glinted in the morning sun. "You need to shoot it in the brain," he told her, "or the stress of its dying will taint the meat."

"Where's my sister?" she asked, feeling suddenly confused. "Where's Katherine?" Kat always came along on these trips. Her father's face was stern, heavy brows furrowed.

"Shoot it now." He forcefully pushed her head with his closed fist so she faced the deer again. It had lifted its head from the grass, ears twitching as it listened. "Shoot it before it runs."

Angered into hastiness by her father's scolding, she took her aim and released. The bowstring snapped taut, the arrow cut through the air in a tall arc . . . And burrowed in the deer's left eye. When she stood shakily on her feet, it had crumpled dead in the grass. Her father went silent.

Only, as she neared her kill, its form began to change. Hooves became wind-chafed hands and feet, tawny fur became sun-browned skin, a snout became a button nose and a pair of full lips, curly black hair fanned around an unmoving head. Soon, she was staring into her own face.

No. Her sister's face.

Blood seeped from the arrow wound, running red tear tracks down Kat's cheek, pooling on the fallen leaves below her. Kat's one good eye looked up at Kay. Alive. Accusing.

Kay's bow clattered to the earth. Kat was dead, or dying. She'd shot the arrow that killed her sister. Bile rose in her throat. She stooped over, trembling.

"Good work, Kayla." Her father's presence hovered over her shoulder. "Let's skin it here. Rip out its antlers."

"It's not a deer." Kay's voice felt far away from her. "It's my sister."

In-su's eyes were melting, smoking down his cheeks. "Is there a difference?"

When she looked down at her sister's body, Kat was smiling back at her. Teeth shining red with blood and saliva. Leaves sprouting from the arrow still lodged in her eye. Her jaws sprung wide, bones cracking, as if to scream . . .

✷

Kay jolted awake so hard she bit her tongue. The iron taste of blood filled her mouth. Tears bit her eyes, making her vision blurry. For a moment, she couldn't understand where she was. Why the air smelled like smoke. Why her skull ached. Why she was surrounded by trees. In that terrible moment, she believed she was stuck in that terrible dream. Though the details were fading fast, Kay still felt a lingering dread in the dream's wake . . . Where is Katherine? Where's my sister?

"You're finally awake."

Kay whipped around, raising her fists for a fight, but stopped short when she recognized mid-fielder Taissa Turner.

"Whoa!" Taissa held up her hands in mock surrender. "Easy, Rocky Balboa."

"Where am I?" Kay hated the way her voice shook.

"Hell on earth. Middle of nowhere. Paradise for mosquitoes. Take your pick." Taissa's eyes narrowed at Kay skeptically. "You must've hit your head harder than Misty thought. You really don't remember?"

Taissa's words had finally jarred some sense into Kay's head. No, Kay did remember. She remembered the plane falling from the sky, watching a woman writhe as she burned alive, Van screaming for help, Misty raising an ax over her head . . . Kay's vision started to spin, head pounding with memories. She put her hands over her eyes, but dropped them when she realized there was dried blood on her fingers.

"We crashed," she said.

"Yes." Taissa was looking at Kay funny. Like she was trying to make sense of something. Perhaps realizing that Kay wasn't going to speak again, Taissa explained. "You passed out and hit your head. Misty said you might have a concussion. You were twitching and . . . It didn't look good. Nat, Van, and I have been taking turns watching you, just to make sure you didn't start seizing or something."

This was something new. Kay had never elicited much care from anyone, really. To have three people concerned enough to watch over her felt strange, uncomfortable.

Taissa's presence was the most surprising part. After their last practice, after Allie broke her leg, there had been tension between Kay and Taissa. It had lessened after the party, when Kay apologized for what she'd said ("I shouldn't have said you wanted Allie to get hurt. I can tell, now, that you didn't intend to.") and Taissa had shook her head, told Kay it was water under the bridge. Still, this level of comradery was unusual between the two girls. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, Kay sighed deeply.

"Thanks," she said. "I'm sorry. How do I help?"

Taissa scrunched up her face. "What the hell are you sorry for?"

Kay wasn't really sure. Maybe for causing such a ruckus over her health. Maybe for everything she'd said before the crash. Maybe for the current terrible predicament. But instead of going through the effort of speaking, Kay simply shrugged.

"Well, keep your apologies to yourself, then. And if you really want to help . . . Are you feeling good enough to stand? Good. Let's get you some blankets to tear up for bandages."

Taissa led a shaky Kay to a pile of clothing and blankets from the airplane. When they passed by Van, Van stopped to tell Kay, "Glad you're on your feet. You scared the hell out of us."

"I'm sorry," said Kay softly.

"What did I say about keeping your apologies to yourself?" Taissa scolded Kay. Though she was frowning, Kay could tell she was mostly kidding. "Come on, sit down here and rip those up. You sure you're feeling ok?"

As Kay unsteadily sat down on a tree root, she nodded. "Don't worry about me," she said as seriously as she could manage. "I'm fine."

Taissa and Van didn't look convinced, but neither of them pushed it. Kay grabbed an old t-shirt and started tearing it into strips, and in lieu of conversation, the girls left her to her thoughts. Kay was grateful for a moment alone.

At first, Kay watched the people scurrying around her. Everyone seemed to have recovered, somewhat, from the terror they'd experienced in the crash. People were helping each other, tying bandages, searching together through suitcases for supplies. At least nobody was screaming anymore. With the threat of death sated for a while, hope must have started to blossom. They would be found in a day or so, rescued from the woods and brought back home. It was only a matter of time before this was all over and they could see their families again. As she lost herself in the repetitive action of ripping fabric, Kay's mind wandered to her own family.

The only person Kay really had back in Wiskayok was Uncle Iseul. Even the thought of him made her chest ache with sudden homesickness for his awful cooking and comforting presence. This was something unexpected. Kay had never considered Iseul to be someone she loved. For a while, she'd considered him simply someone she lived with, someone she only tolerated, someone who called her asshole father "brother" and thus didn't deserve Kay's affection. But now, far away from the safety of Iseul's home, she felt . . . scared. For the first time since she'd fled her father's penthouse apartment in the middle of the night, she felt vulnerable. Like the next curveball life threw at her would shatter her into pieces. It was not a good feeling. She tried to remind herself that a rescue team would be here soon, that she'd be back in Wiskayok in a couple days. Yet, the fear persisted.

Maybe she could have told Iseul thank you for putting up with her. For taking her into his home on such short notice and never complaining about her abrasiveness. For never pressing Kay to talk about her feelings, for always being kind to her despite her refusal to get close to him. It's funny, how retrospect makes guilt and fear appear in places you'd never even considered before. Why had she never thanked him?

Iseul may have called In-su "brother," but he'd also protected Kay from In-su's wrath without question. That meant something. It just sucks that it took a plane crash for Kay to realize it.

I'll see him in a few days, Kay thought, trying to be optimistic. I'll tell him that I missed him.

Somehow, she wasn't convinced.

"Want some help?"

Kay glanced up, finding Nat Scatorccio standing in front of her. Kay had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn't even seen Nat approach. Kay shook her head to clear the fog in her brain, then realized shaking your head usually means No, go away. Quickly, Kay nodded instead. Nat paused, visibly confused at Kay's mixed signals.

"Sure, yes." Kay's cheeks went hot, suddenly nervous for some reason she couldn't decipher. "I mean . . . Yeah, you can help."

"Great." Nat sat on the dirt across from Kay, picking up a blanket.

For a minute, they worked to the sound of tearing fabric. Kay fumbled for something to say. Then she felt stupid. Kay hated talking. Why did she suddenly feel the need to speak? How come the only thing she could focus on was the empty air between her and Nat? Hopelessly confused at her own emotions, Kay kept her eyes trained her task.

"You must be feeling better," said Nat.

Against her better judgment, Kay looked at Nat. Nat's gaze was locked on the blanket in her hands. She must have sensed Kay's discomfort, or maybe she felt uncomfortable herself. Kay tried to quell her disappointment toward the latter possibility.

"Yes," Kay said when she realized she hadn't responded. "I'm concussed, but . . . I don't feel like passing out anymore."

"Hey, that's improvement." Nat met Kay's eyes.

Kay became suddenly interested in the pile of t-shirts again. Then something occurred to her. "Thank you," she said carefully. "For volunteering to watch over me while I was out. You didn't need to."

"Yeah, I did."

Kay glanced up.

"You . . ." Nat hesitated, struggling internally with something. After a painstaking second, she continued. "You helped me get off the plane when all I could do was freak out. When I was stuck under the rubble, I . . . I really thought I was gonna die. I was panicking. And when you showed up, when you freed me . . . You saved me from having a really embarrassing meltdown. Maybe worse. So, um, thank you, too. For saving me."

Now Kay felt really flustered. She stared at her own hands, at the pair of pants she was tearing up into strips. But really, her mind was only focused on Nat's words.

"You don't have to thank me." Kay fought to keep her face flat. For the first time, words streamed from her mouth unbidden. "After we crashed, I was so scared I froze. Seeing all the blood, all the death. I almost sat back down in my chair and let myself burn. But your voice, it . . . I don't know, it pulled me out of it. If you—" Realizing this was far too familiar, far too friendly, Kay amended, "if anyone—needed my help, then . . . Then maybe I had a reason to stay alive."

Nat had stopped working, and was staring at Kay with an unreadable expression. Kay felt rather dazed, herself. This was the most she'd ever said to Nat, to anyone, really. And it was such a vulnerable thing to admit. Too vulnerable. Maybe Kay did hit her head harder than she thought. Kay agonized in the silence that stretched between them, afraid that she'd said too much. Afraid she'd scared Nat away. (Why, why, why did Kay suddenly care so much about what Nat thought of her?)

Finally, Nat said, "I'm glad you decided to live." She broke the intense eye contact. "I'm guessing we'll need your freakishly quick reflexes in the next few days."

Despite herself, Kay allowed the smallest of smiles. "We'll need your killer wit, too, Scatorccio," she said.

Then Nat was half-smiling, too, and that was the best thing Kay'd seen in a while.

A sudden, gut-wrenching scream pierced the air, stopping the conversation cold. Kay struggled to her feet; Nat caught her when she swayed. They exchanged a cursory glance. With Kay leaning on Nat, they ambled toward the noise. A group of people was forming around the bottom of a tall tree, looking up at the sky. Kay craned her neck to see what they were staring at, sun burning into her eyes. Nat let go of her. When she saw the body, Kay's mouth went dry.

Nearly thirty feet above them, Coach Martinez lay motionless on a tree branch. Blood dripped from his fingers to fall on the ground like rain. Kay fought to stay standing. She couldn't see much, but it was enough. How did he get there? Was he ejected from the plane? Kay's breathing had started to quicken.

"Dad? Dad!" Coach's younger son—who Kay didn't know the name of—dashed for the tree, but Shauna grabbed him before he got any nearer, pulling him back. He fought against Shauna's arms for only a moment, then became suddenly very still. Kay saw tears running tracks through the dirt on his face. He turned to Shauna. "It's Dad. It's my . . ." He trailed off into sobs.

"I know, Javi." Shauna's face was grim as she turned his face away. "Don't look." Javi cried into her shoulder.

Kay was at a loss, frozen with fear. She wondered if it was her concussion that made the world go blurry around her.

Misty had made her way over and spotted Coach. "Holy macaroni, is that—?"

"He's gotta be dead, right?" Nat asked without thinking. Shauna nudged Nat with her shoulder, and Nat winced once she realized her insensitivity. Javi's whole body had started to tremble. Kay reached a hand up to comfort him, but ended up dropping it back to her side, unsure if she could even help. Instead, she shifted to be nearer to Nat.

"Ok," said Jackie, "who has the best arm?"

Mari raised her hand, breathless. "I do, Jackie."

"What exactly are we doing?" Kay asked, glancing at Jackie.

"I'm thinking we could try and throw things at him and see if he moves."

Taissa was quick to point out the obvious problem: "You wanna throw rocks at Coach," she said, "who fell out of a fucking plane?"

"I didn't say rocks," Jackie defended vehemently. "Someone's shoe or whatever."

"Oh, yeah, that's a fuckton smarter," criticized Van. "You're on fire today, Jackie. Oh, wait." She held a death glare with Jackie, a gallows smile on her lips. "That was supposed to be me, huh?"

Kay's brows furrowed, glancing between Van and Jackie. She remembered Van screaming for help as the fire inched closer to her. And though her brain was clouded by her concussion, Kay could vaguely remember seeing Jackie's back as she escaped the plane, seconds before Kay heard Van's cries. Had Jackie seen Van about to burn alive? Had she run away instead of helping her? Kay scanned Jackie's face, and saw guilt written in the lines of her weary face. Jackie left Van to die? Kay's respect for Jackie lessened at this realization, and she fought not to say something.

Taissa, who must've had no idea of Van's close encounter with death, asked, "What?" She watched Van for an explanation that didn't come.

"Ok, guys, stop it." Shauna butted in between Jackie and Van. "We need a plan here."

"We could lower him with ropes?" Laura Lee suggested. When she saw the skeptical looks on everyone's faces, she changed her answer. "Vines, then? I don't know . . ."

"Fuck's sake, Laura Lee, we're not gonna Tarzan him out of a tree," said Nat scathingly.

Laura Lee turned on Nat. "Well, you got a better idea?"

"Than shoes and vines? Sure!" Nat tossed up her hands in annoyance. "Let's just cut the fucking tree down!"

"It's hopeless, anyway," Evie muttered. A few people turned around to give her dirty looks, which Evie didn't even seem to notice.

For the first time, Kay noticed that Evie seemed off. Her usual smiley, carefree attitude had soured. Though, given the circumstances, Kay didn't really blame Evie for her pessimism. Coach hadn't moved since they noticed him, and transporting him to a hospital through miles of woods might kill him, anyway. (If he wasn't already dead.) Still they had to try something. They couldn't just leave him up there to rot. Kay tried to rack her brain for an answer, but the concussion was making her head ache.

"Dad?"

A new voice. Kay spun around, finding Javi's older brother, Travis. He pushed past her carelessly, focused only on the body in the tree. "Dad!" Travis broke into a run toward the trunk.

Protests rang out, but Travis didn't seem to hear them. He reached the tree, shaking off Van from holding him back, and started to climb. By then, Kay had staggered nearer to the tree. Travis was scaling it fast, probably running on pure adrenaline and fear. She watched him climb higher and higher, stunned clueless on what to do.

Luckily, Misty thought quicker than Kay's concussed brain. She ran over with some untorn blankets from the plane, eyes wild. "This is all I could find. Grab a corner and if he falls on it—" Everyone reached for the blankets, cutting her off.

There was a mad scramble as they unfolded the blankets. Kay took a corner, tried to stay on her feet. She glanced up. Travis was over halfway up the tree, still not slowing. Panic was rising in her chest. Misty ordered everyone to tie the two blankets together to make a life net. Kay fumbled to tie a knot, but her hands were shaking too hard. Van reached over, helped her pull the knot tight.

Kay's hands, holding tight to the blanket, warmed up like the fabric was made of fire. Before she could let go, a foggy scene formed in her mind's eye. Of a plane soaring through a blue sky, of a stewardess walking down the center aisle, handing this very blanket to one of the JV girls. She could see the stewardess's smile, her bright blue eyes, still intact and unmelted in her skull. Then, she felt the plane shake violently. Felt the stewardess's fear as she left the blanket with the JV girl.

Just as soon as the vision started, it ended, and Kay found herself back in the woods, still gripping the blanket. She must have been in the trance for mere seconds, but she was completely disoriented. She hadn't even been trying to read a memory from the blanket. Now, her head split in agony from the use of her gift, thoughts muddled as she struggled to ground herself through the confusion. She didn't have time to wonder what it meant, why her mind had traveled to that place. Slowly, the shouts of the people around her brought her back to the current moment. Coach Martinez. Travis.

Kay looked upward once more, swaying on her feet. Travis had finally reached the branch his father rested on. He hesitated. Then crawled onto the branch.

CREEEAAAK! CRACK!

Everyone gasped as the branch bowed downward. There was no doubt; it would break. Kay pulled the makeshift life net tauter, anticipating someone falling. Travis, still in the grips of his adrenaline, climbed closer to his father. The branch sunk lower, eliciting more terrible CRACKs of wood splintering.

"Get back!" Everyone was yelling. "Travis, get back!"

The reality of the situation must have finally hit him, because Travis suddenly scrambled backward, clutching the trunk for dear life. And it was just in time, for the branch he was on finally broke and gave way.

Everybody abandoned the net, scrambling back as the tree limb came crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust. Kay's balance gave way. She fell on her ass. Still, her eyes stayed fixed on Coach Martinez's corpse.

Branches punched bloody holes through his chest, every inch of his skin smattered with crimson. Limbs crooked, eyes glassy, hands clenched tight from rigor mortis. His jaw hung wide open at a nauseating angle . . . As if to scream.

Kay's fingers clawed into the dirt, balled into fists. Her nails dug into her palms. The image before her was so terrifying, she thought she was dreaming. Memories of her twin sister's gory face in that terrible nightmare flashed through her mind. But the pain was grounding. Real. It's not a dream. She tore her eyes from Coach and looked at her palms. Ten bleeding crescents, throbbing in time with her heartbeat; undeniable proof of reality.

What had Taissa called it? Hell on earth.

━━━

With the sunset came the cold of nighttime, and it was decided amongst the survivors that a fire was needed. Nat Scatorccio used her lighter to ignite some kindling, and soon enough they had a nice bonfire going. Taissa, Van, Laura Lee, and Kay Jang had since returned from their mission to cover the corpses in the plane (and Coach's desecrated body) with spare blankets and to scavenge for any other suitcases they could find. Evie thought the sentiment useless: What does a dead body care if they aren't tucked in for the night? But it seemed to give the rest comfort, so she stayed silent.

As Kay Jang shakily tossed the last of the suitcases into a pile, Evie wiggled her own gray bag out from beneath several other heavy ones. Everyone was winding down from the terrible day they'd had, sitting in a silent circle around the fire's warmth. Lottie'd gone off to find her own suitcase, which she'd said she left nearby. Evie disliked the smell of woodsmoke clinging to her hair, and she occupied herself with sorting through the clothes and toiletries she'd packed so she didn't have to think about how dirty and miserable she was.

Toothbrush, shampoo, hairbrush, deodorant, spare sweatshirts and pants. All were useful, but not something to eat. Her stomach gave a low rumble of hunger. It didn't matter. There would probably be snacks on the plane that came to rescue them tomorrow. She could last that long.

Searching through her bag didn't take much time, though. Soon enough, Evie had to find other methods of entertaining herself. None of the others seemed intent on talking, likely feeling as exhausted as she did from what they'd seen. Evie started picking the polish off her nails, just to give her hands something to do. And when she saw the dried blood crusted underneath her fingernails, she picked that out, too. Where was a bar of soap when you needed it?

Lottie appeared through the gloom of darkness and trees. Evie scooted over and Lottie sat down next to her wordlessly. Upon scanning Lottie's face, Evie recognized worry in her clinched brows and thin lips. Evie reached over, placed her hand on top of Lottie's. Lottie gave a weak smile then became interested in the fire.

After the discovery of Coach Martinez and Travis's failed rescue attempt, the group's morale seemed to have drained completely. Including Lottie's. The frantic clamber for medical treatment that'd consumed the entire day had since ceased, and most girls now cradled their bandaged wounds and sprains quietly. Kay Jang, revived from unconsciousness, lingered at the edge of the group, flipping through the pages of her journal. Travis Martinez was even further into the shadows, brooding by himself where nobody could see him in the light of the fire. Even Misty, who'd been so talkative earlier, kept to herself.

Evie herself felt too tired to start a conversation, which was highly unusual. Usually, she'd jump on the opportunity to talk. But many things had changed since this morning. For one, she'd looked death in the eye. As their plane was crashing, she'd been convinced that she was about to die. When your mind comes to such a grim conclusion, it's hard to remember that you didn't die. You're still alive, and you have to pretend like you didn't accept the reality of your death. Somehow, Evie still felt like she'd died on the plane. Like this is all some fever dream her mind came up with her soul slips from her body. But if this were a dream, she didn't think she'd be able to feel Lottie's heartbeat in her palm. Evie still struggled between the two possibilities, though: Am I dead or alive?

In all honestly, Evie'd barely reacted to Coach Martinez's death. Maybe because she was so convinced this wasn't real, or maybe because she'd never particularly liked him. Unraveling her own thoughts and intentions felt impossible. She decided that, whatever the reason for her apathy, Coach Martinez was dead, and she couldn't do anything about it now. Best to forget it ever happened. Best to pretend it was all a bad dream. When the rescue team arrived and she was back in Wiskayok, maybe reality would finally set in.

Her eyelids were growing heavy, which concerned her even more. She was certain that soon as she closed her eyes, she'd have a nightmare (if this wasn't already one). Carefully, she decided that she would have a dream walk tonight. If only to keep her own nightmares at bay. It'd been a while since she'd used her gift. What better time to use it as a distraction?

Evie watched the faces of the others. Most were staring into the fire. A handful of JV girls huddled under a blanket, holding hands. Javi had stopped crying and now sat stoically near Shauna, chewing on a piece of gum. Laura Lee held tight to her teddy bear. Lottie fiddled with her shirtsleeves. Kay Jang, pen in hand, was scrawling something onto a page of her journal.

Shauna was the first to speak after the minutes of tense silence. "I'm sure the plane has an emergency transmitter sending out a distress signal," she said. "They'll be here to rescue us by morning."

They'd better be, Evie thought, placing a hand on her grumbling stomach.

"Still . . ." started Jackie, "maybe we should conserve some food?" She was looking at Van, who'd been eating her way through a small bag of snacks. "In case they don't get here till later in the day?"

Van stopped chewing, pinned Jackie with a serious look. "You wanna save the CornNuts?"

Jackie fell silent. Evie noticed that Kay Jang's head had shot up when Jackie first spoke, eyes narrowed. If looks could kill . . . Evie still didn't understand the strange tension between Jackie and Van, but Kay's expression (so unusual for the Dead-Face) told her Kay knew, and it wasn't good. If Evie hadn't been so exhausted, she might have asked what the issue was. Instead, she returned to picking at her nails.

"You ok, Laura Lee?" Taissa asked suddenly.

Evie's gaze shifted to Laura Lee. Tears glistened in Laura Lee's eyes, and she had started visibly shaking. Cheerful, always undaunted Laura Lee, reduced to sniffles and sobs. Evie grimaced.

"This is all my fault," the Christian girl said. "I did something really bad. I kept screwing up in my piano lesson last week. Mrs. Brophy kept yelling at me. 'Sharp. F sharp. F sharp.' I just . . . I couldn't take it anymore. So I called her a bad word. Just in my head, but . . ." She shook her head incredulously. "God heard me. Now we're all being punished."

As if God cares, thought Evie. If He really gave a shit about swearing, I'd have been smited years ago. Fuckin' Laura Lee. "It's not your fault," Evie said. "We're just unlucky."

"What did you call Brophy?" Taissa pressed, ignoring Evie. Wouldn't be the first time.

Laura Lee's lips tremored. Even now, it seemed she was battling to even say the word aloud. "Cunt," she finally whispered.

For some reason, this struck Evie as tremendously funny. Laura Lee saying "cunt" was just too bizarre. Evie snorted. This broke the rest of the group. Suddenly, everyone around the fire was laughing. Even Lottie wore a smile. Evie covered her face with her hands as a second wave of laughter washed over her. What the fuck was even going on anymore?

"I steal shitty clothes from T.J. Maxx," Lottie blurted out.

Everyone turned to her, half-smiling, half-confused.

"What?" asked Van.

Lottie shrugged. Evie saw her grinning. "I return them, and I get credit that I never use, and I have thousands of dollars in T.J. bucks."

"Jesus." Evie shook her head and cracked up all over again. She already knew this fact about Lottie, but the tiredness must have been getting to her. The other girls were just as hysterical she she felt.

Jackie spoke up next. "I used to sneak downstairs after everybody had gone to bed and watch The Color of Night." She tilted her head before she confessed: "So I could pause it on Bruce Willis's wang."

The laughter became louder than ever. Like they weren't stranded in the goddamn woods. It was nice to laugh. For the first time, it felt like things could be like they were before today.

"That is definitely why we crashed," Taissa declared. She wiped happy tears from her eyes.

"I mean, Jeff's not bad, but damn," Jackie said to more scattered giggles, "right?"

Evie rolled her eyes. Jeff Sadecki's a meathead. Bruce Willis sucked, too, but she wasn't gonna say it out loud. Not when everybody was just starting to cheer up. Evie looked to Lottie, and saw her cheeks were red with laughter. This made Evie feel much, much better.

"What about you, Shipman?" Jackie had turned to face Shauna. "Any secrets big enough to crash a goddamn plane?"

Shauna's face blanched as she tried to think of something. Maybe Evie was reading too far into it, but Shauna looked suddenly . . . nervous. Any trace of happiness had drained from her face. Weird.

But before Shauna could say anything, the sound of Coach Scott's screaming shattered the good moment. In an instant, everyone was on their feet. Evie helped Lottie stand, and together they raced after the group. Evie's first thought was that a wild animal was maiming Coach to death. She picked up a large stick, just in case.

Only, when they made it up the little hill where Coach Scott rested, Evie found no wild animal. It was Misty, holding the axe in her hand again. The sharp metal gleamed red-hot, and Evie could see smoke rising from Coach's disfigured leg.

Well, great, Evie thought. Misty's gone insane.

"What the fuck, Misty?" said Taissa.

Misty, looking out-of-it, explained, "I had to stop the bleeding for good."

"And you couldn't have said something before you did that?" Evie yelled a little too loud. They all were just smiling and laughing together thirty seconds ago. Now the world was quiet again, save for the cicadas and the crickets chirping in the foliage.

Van shot Evie a look. "Hey, Misty stopped the bleeding. She could've just saved his life."

"Or, you know, he's dead from shock." Evie gestured irritably at Coach, who'd fallen unconscious.

"He's still breathing," Misty assured her.

"Uh-huh," Evie deadpanned, unconvinced. She turned on her heel and started making her way back to the fire. There was no use in sticking around if everyone was convinced Misty was in the right. Let's hope she chops off their legs, next, and not mine. Evie was being bitter, but she didn't care.

Lottie caught up with Evie and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you ok?"

"Peachy," said Evie. When she saw the worried look on Lottie's face, though, she decided to be honest. "I just wanna leave. This whole situation is bullshit."

Lottie sighed in understanding. "It'll be fine, Eves. We just need to stay strong until tomorrow, when we're rescued."

Can the rescue team leave Misty behind, then?

✷

     Evie was dream-walking.

She opened her eyes, and she was in her bedroom at her father's house, sitting on the bed. The sound of a soccer game on the TV was muffled through the wooden door. Kip must be home.

No, not here. I don't want to see him.

Her thoughts were fuzzy, but her brain seemed to hear her. The dreamscape melted before her, shifting into another scene. Suddenly, she was in an abandoned mall, standing beside a bubbling fountain. All the stores were trashed, shelves tipped over, glass windows shattered. Above her, the ceiling dripped rust-red water onto the cracked tile floor.  Whose dream am I in? That's when she turned and saw Lottie.

Lottie was on her knees in the center of the empty mall, head bowed with her hair shielding her face. But Evie could recognize her best friend anywhere. As Evie neared, Lottie looked up at her, unshed tears pooled in her brown eyes.

"Evie?" asked Lottie distantly.

"You're having a bad dream," Evie said. "How about you have a good dream? The one about winning Nationals."

Lottie's face relaxed and she gave a sigh of relief. Her form began to glow, wavering like static on a television. And she disappeared. Gone to a better dream.

Soon as Lottie'd vanished, the dreamscape reformed again. Evie could sense she was in a different dream now, somebody else's.

She was in the woods. Not the woods she presently slept in, no. These woods were filled with maple and birch trees, leaves in autumnal reds, yellows, and oranges. Sunlight beamed through the canopy, washing the whole forest in a soft golden glow. She spun in a circle, trying to find the dreamer, finding no one. Alone, she started walking.

She'd been triapsing through the trees for a while when she heard the voices.

"She's sick, Kayla. She won't get better."

"No! Katherine's fine! Can't you see?"

Through the gaps in the trees, Evie spotted a dilapidated hunting shed. The thatch roof was mostly caved in. As she neared, Evie saw firelight flickering inside. But, when she stepped inside, she wasn't in a hunting shed. She was in a hospital room. Four people stood around the empty hospital bed. In the center of the room, completely out of place, was a crackling bonfire. It filled the room with smoke.

One of the people standing by the bed was Kay Jang. Kay held tight to the hand of a young girl, maybe twelve years old. The other two people were strangers. A man with bushy eyebrows and a stern, unforgiving face. A timid, brown-skinned woman who stood in the shadow of the man. Evie stopped cold when she saw the young girl's face.

The young girl was Kay Jang, too. Only younger. Those unmistakable eyes, that button nose. But that felt wrong. The girl was all skin and bones, not anything like the brawny, tall Kay standing beside her. A tube snaked from the girl's arm to the IV bag next to the bed. Then, Evie realized.

There weren't two Kay Jangs. This young girl was Kay's sister.

"She's alive." Evie had never heard Kay sound so angry. "She's standing right next to me!" Kay yelled. "I'm holding her hand!"

"Darling, you need to let her go." It was the timid woman that spoke now. Her voice was just above a whisper.

"You're holding onto a corpse," said the stern man.

As he said the words, the young girl started to change. Her skin turned gray and started to slough from her bones. A yellowed jawbone shone through a face crawling with maggots. The girl's mouth drooped open, and a blue tongue slid between rotted teeth.

Kay stared in horror at her sister, still gripping her hand. "Katherine?" she asked, voice gone meek.

"I don't want to die, Kay." Katherine's skin was all rotted away, now. She looked up at Kay, and one of her eyes popped out of its socket, hanging from a thin thread of viscera. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Kay was trembling like a beaten dog. Still, she clenched her sister's skeletal hand in hers. She seemed unable to speak, unable to look away.

Evie had seen enough.

"Kay Jang."

At the sound of Evie's voice, Kay slowly turned around. Her sad eyes flickered with faint recognition.

"E . . . Evie?"

"You're having a nightmare." Evie's hands shook at her sides. "Why don't you dream of something kinder? Of your sister, before she was sick."

"NO."

The stern man was looking straight at Evie. Evie's words died in her throat. She'd never been seen by someone who wasn't the dreamer before. Why could this man see her? Her face must've shown her shock, as a wicked smile curled the edges of his lips.

"YOU CANNOT FREE HER." His voice seemed to emanate from everywhere in the hospital room. His mouth hadn't moved. "AND YOU CANNOT FREE YOURSELF."

Evie's limbs went rigid. Unable to move, she could only watch as the stern man strode toward her. Kay Jang's face was blank as if she were in a trance. Katherine Jang—now just pale bones—watched the unfolding scene with the one eye she had left. The man stopped before Evie, and raised his hand to place his thumb between her eyes. Evie trembled in fear. Warmth spread from his finger into her forehead.

"DREAM OF YOUR FRIEND'S BLOOD AND SWEET DEATHS. DREAM OF THEIR TEETH TEARING FLESH FROM YOUR BONES."

Evie whimpered. And tumbled down, down, down, into a nightmare she could not stop.

▬▬▬▬

a/n . . . welcome to evie becoming more of a bitter bitch!! ilhsm but half of her pov is just tearing ppl apart like damn can you chill for a second 😭😭 (she cannot chill) && kaynat is my religion like idk what it is about brooding women seeking comfort in other brooding women but i'll write it happily every time!! them opening up to each other was so... HFNAJNFJAN crying <333

& i hope you guys enjoyed the little glimpse into evie's gift/power... and were a little horrified? bc that was my intention >:D

p.s. the song above the chapter is added mostly for evielottie vibes!!! it's the song evie thinks of when she's with lottie, and it's such a cheerful song that it shows the inconsistency between evie's previously carefree mental state and the grim reality of this new situation.... it was just an interesting contrast i wanted to include!! (++ it also fits with the kaynat scene where kay admits nat pretty much, as amy grant says, "put her heart in motion." SOO ya, both evielottie AND kaynat fit the song teehee)

word count . . . 7601