Page 47 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

“I don’t know,” I risk, hurrying to keep up with her. “I don’t think we’re even going the right way. I really think it might be time to turn around.”

I watch the indecision flit across her features. She got off most of her makeup in the shower earlier, but there’s still a little bit of black smudged around her eyes, made messier by the rain. And yet she’s still got the kind of face that makes people gasp. The kind of face you’d do anything for.

And I’m living proof.

“We just have to keep going,” she says. “We’ll hit the road soon. Trust me.”

She leans over and kisses me once before turning and heading deeper into the woods, leaving me staring after her. Marlene steps up next to me, catching her breath. It hits me that, for the first time, I might have to tell Kaitlyn no. I’m going to have to make her see that this is bordering on insanity.

If only the rain would let up, we’d have a shot. But I can barely see in front of me. I can barely—

Snap.

I freeze and rotate to face the sound. It was like a stick being cracked in half.

Or is my mind just playing tricks on me?

“I heard it, too,” Marlene says, eyes wide when she looks up at me. “Javi, what was that?”

I swallow. “Nothing. Just the wind.”

“Are you sure?”

No. How could I be? “Yes.”

We start moving, Marlene sticking next to me as we hurry after Kaitlyn, but I can’t shake the sound. It seems to be following us. And now, I know I have to get Kaitlyn to stop. I start to pick up the pace to catch up to her.

“We need to go back and find another trail,” I call to her, heart thundering in my chest. “We really are turned around. We—”

Snap.

I’ve barely moved when I hear Kaitlyn scream.

Hands grab my shoulders, and a face appears before mine, streaked in blood, a knife held in front of my eyes.

Chapter 24

Avery

October 17

2:12 a.m.

This is how we die.

Apparently.

Which is extremely disappointing.

I’m not saying that I can think of a better way to die. In fact, I like to think my logical approach to most things in life shows a decided effort to stay alive. But now I know I’m going to die of my own stubbornness and, fine, my own stupidity. Which is not fair. Because I am, based on all numerical points that matter, very smart.

And yet what most people will learn about me is that I, Avery Winslow, chose to stay in a murder house where the murderer had apparently not yet vacated the premises. Because I thought I could survive by sheer will.

“Didn’t you check the locks?” I whisper to Caulder, who’s standing as still as a statue next to me, listening for another sound.

“All of them,” Caulder replies, keeping his voice down. “They’re all still locked.”

“And he’s not in any of the rooms?”