“I tell you what,” Simon said, from the back of the line. “I never want to see another fucking RV again as long as I live.”
“Tell me about it,” Reyna sniffed, almost a laugh.
Fiddling, nervous energy, in front and behind Red.
“I’m going,” Oliver said, bending down and lowering one leg out the window, coming to sit on the frame, exactly halfway inside and halfway outside. He dipped his head under and out.
The static cut off, silence taking its place. Before:
“Hello.” The voice crackled to life behind them.
Oliver paused, looking back inside the RV, listening.
“Cute trick with the mirror,” it said, a bark of laughter in his dark, metallic voice. “But there’s one thing I should tell you before you make the mistake of climbing out that driver’s-side window, Oliver. I probably should have told you sooner, that’s my fault.”
Static.
Red’s chest constricted, ribs folding in one by one like fingers as she turned to look back at the walkie-talkie, glaring at them from where she’d left it on the table. Her eyes crossed each other, the bright green display doubling itself, filling her head.
“How could he—” Reyna began.
“Oliver, don’t move!” Maddy shouted as he shifted out there on the window frame, staring down at the road just below him.
Silence, prickly and heavy.
“I should have told you,” the voice cut back in, sputtering at the edges. “There are two of us.”
One gasp. One scream. One hitch in Red’s chest.
There were two of them out there, in the wide-open nothing. Two of them. Two guns. Two red dots. No, this couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Get back inside, Oliver!” Reyna was screaming now. “Get in!” A race between her voice and a finger on a trigger.
Oliver tucked his head and rolled back inside, falling against Maddy on the driver’s seat, and Reyna just behind. Reyna stumbled, pushing into Red. She tripped over Arthur’s feet but he caught her, arms under hers, solid and strong.
“Close the curtains,” Reyna was still screaming, the sound cutting through Red. “Close them!”
Oliver righted himself, reaching up and snatching at the curtains, pulling them together. No gap. Shutting the outside away, splitting them into two separate worlds again: the RV and out there. Only a border of thin black material between them.
“It’s not fair,” Maddy cried, mouth bared, eyes clouded. “We were almost out. We were almost free.” Fat tears broke away, rolling to her chin.
“FUCK!” Oliver roared, tendons sticking out across the length ofhis neck, red and raw, like the puppet strings that worked his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He beat his fists against the steering wheel, against the dashboard, over and over.
“Oliver, stop!” Reyna lurched forward to take his hands away from him, holding them to her chest. “That doesn’t help anyone.”
“Two of them.” Simon walked backward over a large shard of mirror, doubling the sole of his shoe before it cracked. “Two fucking snipers. You know what this night didn’t need?” he called. “Another fucking sniper!”
Oliver was standing again, pushing Reyna out of his way as he stormed through. One of his feet caught on a can of beer, sending it spinning. He roared again, an ugly, scratching sound, as he bent down and wrapped his hands around the closet door. He lifted it up and smashed it back down, the wood splintering, a clean break, clattering back down in two unequal halves.
“Oliver, stop!” Maddy cried. “You’re scaring me!”
“I’m scaring you?!” He rounded on her, eyes wild, a fleck of spit foaming in the corner of his mouth. “It’s not me you should be scared of right now, Madeline. It’s the men with the fucking guns!”
“Oliver, please.” Reyna pushed him toward the booth, the side not blocked by the broken mirror. “Please just sit down and calm down.”
“We were out,” he said to himself, sliding his legs under the dining table, staring at the walkie-talkie. “We were out. I was so close.”
Red’s eyes shifted to Arthur as he dropped back against the sofa, his eyes on her but not here at all, glazed, far away.