Page 77 of Wicked Games

I run outside and listen. I have no idea when she got out of bed, but if they trapped Winnie inside after taking her, they couldn’t have been gone for long. Dogs aren’t stupid. Winnie woke me up for a reason.

There’s a thick fog hanging in the air and there’s no chance I can count on seeing them. I don’t hear any traffic, though that doesn’t mean much. Even if Winnie woke me up the second they trapped her inside, they still had plenty of time to drive away.

“Where’d they go, Winnie?” I ask the dog, pretty much as my last resort. I should call 911, but I don’t know what good it would do. In a town like this, some bored cop would come out, say Avery’s a grown woman and can do whatever the fuck she wants and maybe even blame me for chasing her off.

They wouldn’t know what we found in this little town. That Avery promised she’d never leave me and I believed her with all my heart.

Winnie noses the grass and leads me to the dock. One of the boats is missing, and my body fills with dread. They’re going to drown her, and if that’s true, she could already be dead.

I jump into the remaining boat, untie the rope from the dock, and shove off. I can’t see a fucking thing, the air heavy and wet with a mist that won’t fade until the sun burns through it, but I grab a paddle and head in the direction that I think is out of the cove and toward the lake.

The only good thing about this haze is that if I can’t see, they can’t either, and maybe if they wait to throw her in the water, I can find them before they kill her.

My heart breaks. Throw her in the water. We were talking about our relationship, but she said she couldn’t swim and there’s no way they’d dump her if she was free to even try. They got rid of the gun that killed Theo, Hattie, and Brooke, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have another.

A bird squawks, but I’m not sure what it is. A crow or a raven. The fog is disorienting, and I don’t know which direction it came from. Without a compass, I don’t know which direction I’m going in, either. I lift the paddle out of the water and listen, hoping to hear something that will tell me where those fuckers are. I catch a whisper, someone swearing under his breath, maybe, but the water lapping at the side of the boat drowns it out.

There’s nothing I can do but keep going, and I take a few swipes at the water before stopping and listening again.

I hear a faint murmur, but the voice is low and it swirls around me with the fog. “. . . fuck this . . .”

My boat drifts. In their direction? Or away?

Something splashes in the water, and I want to make my way toward the sound as fast as I possibly can, but I force myself to wait. I don’t know if she’s dead and they’re getting rid of her body, or if she’s alive and they’re drowning her. No matter what, if I go charging over that way, they’ll take me out too. If she’s still alive, I have to be smart. I’m her only chance at survival.

Two gunshots in quick succession blast through the air, and I drop down hard on a bench.

They can’t see anything, I try to tell myself. They can’t see anything to shoot at.

I sit, my hands trembling. This is Theo all over again, and I try to suck in air and push back a panic attack. Looking around, I try to spot something, anything, that would give me a clue as to where they are or if they’re gone, but I don’t see or hear anything. Not even the slap of their paddles against the water.

Tentatively, I stand up and shove my paddle in the water. I’m not going to see anything through this fog, but I keep my gaze focused downward, searching what I can see of the lake’s surface.

It’s still black outside, the moon lighting the haze hanging around me.

A voice hisses, and the fog soaks it up. “Fucking piss then.”

They’re close, but I can’t afford to wait to look for her. Silently, I hang on to the side of the boat and lower myself into the water. It’s freezing, and my muscles tense.

I let go and skim my hands through the water, hoping I can feel her, my soul calling to hers. I know what a long shot that is, that I was even able to follow them this far. They didn’t think I’d be awake. They didn’t think Winnie would come get me.

I lose sight of my boat in the mist, and I know I’m fucked. Even if I find her, I don’t know where land is, don’t know how far away our houses are. I’m in decent shape, but if Avery’s injured or dead, I’ll be swimming her to shore and I’m not strong enough.

My jeans drag me down, and I struggle through the water.

They’re talking, something about getting back to the city, but all I care about is where I am in relation to their voices. Unless they float into my boat or my boat floats into them, they won’t know I’m here.

I swim toward their voices, looking for something I’m not going to find. She’s at the bottom of the lake. Someone hates me so much they found out I was here with her and killed her.

Grief threatens to choke me, but until I know I’m too late to save her, I’ll keep swimming.

The growl of a motor startles me, and I accidentally suck in a mouthful of water. They don’t need to hide anymore, and now that they’ve done what they’ve come here to do, they’re leaving.

I’m relieved, but angry too. Maybe they’ll bring the boat back to the dock, maybe they’ll abandon it somewhere, but once again, they’ve gotten away with their crime.

Treading water, I look around, hoping they didn’t weigh her down and that her body will float to the surface. I can’t see worth shit, so even if she did, unless she popped up right in front of my face, I’ll never find her.

I can’t see my boat, either.