Chapter 11: The Final Gambit
The voice hung in the dark like smoke. I couldn't move. My hand was locked around Maya's, and I could feel her pulse hammering through her palm, fast as a rabbit's.
Niko didn't move either. He stood beside the cot, gun in his hand, the barrel still pointed at the floor. In the dim glow of the stove coals I could see the muscle jump in his jaw.
"Is that him?" Maya whispered. "Is that the voice from the tent?"
I nodded, though I wasn't sure she could see it. "It's him. I'd know it anywhere."
"Open up," the voice called again. It was warm, almost friendly, like a neighbor checking in. "I saw the light. I know you're not asleep."
I wanted to ask who was out there. I wanted to ask how he was still alive, how he'd made it to a cabin in the middle of nowhere that we'd only found by chance. I wanted to ask why he was knocking like a salesman instead of breaking the door down like the others had.
"What do we do?" Maya's voice was barely a breath.
Niko moved to the door. He didn't crouch, didn't make himself small. He walked up to it flat-footed and put one hand flat against the wood, like he could feel the heartbeat on the other side.
"How many are you?" he called out.
The laugh that came back was low and easy. "Just me. The other two are dead, aren't they? I heard the screaming. I smelled the smoke. You did good work, campers."
My skin crawled. He knew. He'd been out there, watching, while we burned his partner alive. He'd heard Maya's revenge and he'd waited, patient as a spider, until we thought we were safe.
"Then why don't you come in?" Niko's voice was flat. "Or are you scared?"
"Scared of three kids with one gun?" The voice chuckled. "No. I'm just polite. I wanted to let you know something before I leave."
"Leave?" I said it before I could stop myself.
"I found your map." The voice was closer now, right against the door. I heard the wood creak as he leaned. "The one with the X on it. The one that pointed you to the clearing with the radios."
My stomach dropped. The map was in my jacket pocket. But the voice was lying, it had to be. I'd had it the whole time.
"It's in my pocket," I whispered to Niko. "I still have it."
"So do I," the voice said. "It's drawn twice, sweetheart. I tucked the original under the can. Your copy was meant to send Niko and you running into the woods. You were supposed to be gone when I came for Ethan and Maya."
The room went silent. I could feel Niko's tension like a wire drawn tight. Maya's grip on my hand had gone bone-white.
"You planned it," I said. "All of it."
"All of it." The voice was proud, satisfied, like a teacher watching a student finally catch on. "The tent, the chase, the cabin. Every step. You think three campers would've made it past two of my boys otherwise? You're alive because I wanted you alive. For now."
"Then why are you leaving?" Niko's knuckles were white on the gun.
"Because I got what I came for." Rustling came from the other side of the door, something heavy being picked up. "The supplies are gone. The radios are gone. And you're out here, three days from the nearest road, with two bullets and no food."
He laughed again, and this time there was nothing friendly in it.
"I could kill you now. It'd be easy. But that's not the point of the game. The point is watching you try." His voice dropped. "Enjoy the night, campers. It gets cold out here."
The footsteps moved away, slow and deliberate, crunching through the dead leaves. They didn't hurry. They didn't fade into something small. They just walked away, confident, like he had all the time in the world.
Because he did.
I was at the door before I knew I'd moved. My hand closed on the latch. Niko was behind me in a second, his hand over mine, pressing it back from the metal.
"Don't." His voice was low and hard.
"He's right there. One shot could—"
"One shot." He turned me around. In the coals' light his face was grim. "We have two bullets. If he's lying, if there's more of them out there, we waste one now and we're done."
"He's not lying about the supplies." Maya's voice came from the cot. She'd pulled the blanket around herself, but her face was pale. "He didn't come here to fight. He came here to tell us the trap. That's what he wanted."
I stared at her. "Why? Why would he tell us?"
"Because it makes it worse." She met my eyes. "Knowing the truth and being helpless is worse than hoping. He's not trying to kill us. He's trying to break us."
Outside, the footsteps stopped.
"You hear that?" the voice drifted back, distant but clear. "No help coming. No way out. Just the night, and the cold, and each other."
Then nothing. The forest swallowed the sound of him until there was only the wind and the creak of branches.
I let go of the latch. My hands were shaking. Niko kept one hand on my arm, steady, grounding, and after a long moment he pulled me into his chest.
"We're still alive," he said. "That's something."
"For how long?" Maya whispered.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. The ridge was silent, but somewhere out in the dark, he was still there. Waiting. Watching. Patient as the night itself.
And we had two bullets, no supplies, and nowhere left to run.