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I decided this morning, in all finality, that I’ll never turn my back on Micah. But this island is just better with Maison, and while I won’t leave Micah, I’m not abandoning Maison, either. I’m bringing him with us, whether Micah wants me to or not. I think Micah wants him back more than he admits. After all, he wore his gray sweater today. My heart startled earlier when I saw him leave the shelter before we left.

He dressed like Maison.

He squeezes me one more time before letting me go and creeps up closer, taking the lead. The sharp curved hunting knife sits menacingly in his right hand. Micah decided not to bring his bone weapon on this trip, opting for the big knife instead.

I’m thinking this whole plan is just insane and could end up incredibly violent. But then I remember how good those beans were… and all that other delicious canned food that is rightfully ours. We are only taking our fair share of it, and they should be grateful for that.

I stand back, my spear ready, adrenaline powering my every limb. Micah moves a few feet and crouches. His knife flashes in his hand. I’m not sure how far Micah will go if pushed. Micah’s not like the rest of us—his mind works differently. I admire how strong he is, lean, agile, and comfortable in the wild.

He stops and stares at the shelter, his head whipping back to me. Something is off. His body is tight and alert.

“It’s empty,” he says.

I tilt my head.

Huh?

He leaps to the next shelter a few feet away and slips his head inside. He turns back to me, and a flash of fear escapes his eyes before he opens his mouth and jumps up to a crouch.

He shouts at me without hesitation, “London, you need to run!”

The next few minutes are a complete blur. My blood heats, and adrenaline completely takes over as I run blindly through the snow, keeping my grip firm on Micah’s hand. Everything around me is a whirl of trees and dim shadows bouncing off the snow as the sun begins it’s evening descent. He stops suddenly, and I keel over, trying to catch my breath. Running in the snow is nearly impossible, but something spooked Micah so badly that I let him drag me into the woods.

“What happened?” I gasp as my muscles threaten to buckle beneath me. That fish is all I’ve had today, and even then, Micah ended up sharing bits of it with James and Nathan.

Micah stops and turns to me, rubbing the back of his neck. “The camp is empty. They were expecting us.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure? Maybe they left for our camp already. James said they were planning to attack us?”

We left James, Nathan, and Jade back there to watch over our stuff and Thomas, while Micah hid the first aid kit somewhere. He refused to tell me where.

He turns in a complete circle, looking around at the empty threat of the forest, and the hidden lurking enemy he’s so certain is there. I see nothing—the only evidence of humanity is our cold, silky breath. There is no sign our former classmates are hunting us like he seems to think they are.

He flexes his jaw. “They are here somewhere, London. Ezra’s not the type to run and hide, either.”

Everything is too quiet, unnervingly so. I look around and try to distinguish where we are. We only ran for five minutes, but nothing looks familiar.

If it were up to me at this moment, I’d give up, but Micah has that look in his eye. The hunt is just beginning…

“What do we do now, Micah? Let’s just head back. This was a bad decision.” Despite being on the brink of collapse for days, I’m still holding on.

He tugs the backpack off his shoulder. “We stick to the plan. I’ll go in alone and grab what I can and come back for you. You’ll be safer out here. When we get back, we can regroup on how to handle the others.”

A wave of panic slams into me.

Fuck, I don’t want to separate from him.

I shake my head and my eyes widen. “No, Micah. Please don’t leave me here.”

If anything happens to him, I’ll have no way to find my way back. And if they are here somewhere, hiding, lurking like he thinks they are…

He looks down at my trembling hands as I grip my spear, but I’m sure I look anything but fierce right now. His eyes soften as he takes me in, the very real fear pouring off my face. “The plan was never to separate,” I hiss. “You wanted me by your side, Micah, remember? Abandoning me in the woods was never the plan.”

“Look around us; look at the snow. Do you see it? Do you feel it?”

I grind my teeth. A sinking feeling consumes me. “Yes, I see the snow,” I say dryly.

“Get used to it, because it’s not going anywhere. It’s only going to get worse, that much I can promise you. I want you fucking alive, London, don’t you understand that by now?”