Page 82 of Five Survive

She had to choose one of them. Had to make a decision, now, down to her. Two outstretched hands, waiting. Reyna or Oliver?

Red’s heart thudded against her ribs, trying to break free, to take no part in this. Red had known Oliver forever, he was right about that. And she’d chosen him once already, four hours ago, coming back to the RV when her gut and her mom told her to run. Should she have run? Where would she be by now? Would Don and Joyce still be alive?

“Red!” Oliver shouted, impatient now, flexing his fingers and taking one step toward her.

The hairs stood up on the back of her neck and her gut told her to move, to peel away from him because there was danger behindhis eyes. And this time, Red listened to it. She backed up, eyes still on Oliver, moving two steps toward Reyna by the front door. Quickly, before she could regret it, or double- or triple-think it, she turned on her heels and pushed the walkie-talkie into Reyna’s warm hand.

Reyna’s fingers closed over it, catching Red’s for a moment. A shared blink.

“No!” Oliver barked, charging forward, the RV juddering with his heavy steps.

Arthur darted into Oliver’s path, his body blocking them from him, a line of sweat rolling down his temple.

“Stop,” he said, voice spiking, his mouth grim and tense as he held one hand up to Oliver’s shoulder, pushed against it. “It’s Reyna’s decision if she wants to tell.”

Simon hurried over too, joining the barricade beside Arthur, arm to arm. The Lavoys on one side of the RV, Reyna and Red by the door, Simon and Arthur in the middle. Maddy had gotten to her feet now, watching, chewing anxiously at her thumb.

“It’s not!” Oliver stopped in his tracks, spraying the words into Arthur’s face. “It’s my decision. I’m in charge here. I don’t care what Reyna tells him, I am not leaving this RV! No one is leaving this RV!”

A flutter in his voice, hidden just beneath the rage. He was frightened, wasn’t he? That was what this was. Underneath those too-wide shoulders and golden-brown eyes, and red-flushed skin, Oliver was scared. By the time it reached the surface, though, it had twisted itself into anger, for cover.

“We have to do what he wants,” Reyna called across the barricade. “There’s no other way.”

“Don’t you dare tell him, Reyna!” Oliver shouted back, peering through the gap between Simon’s and Arthur’s heads. “Don’t you dare tell him what I did.”

The barricade jostled back as Oliver pushed against them.

Reyna sucked in a deep breath and let it out, the air playing through Red’s tied-back hair. She raised the walkie-talkie to her lips and held down the button.

The static cut out.

“Hello?” Reyna said, the word shaking only at the edges.

Static.

“Hello,” the voice crackled from the speaker. “I’m here.”

Static.

“Reyna, don’t you fucking dare!”

“It’s Reyna Flores-Serrano,” she said, holding down the button, pressing her eyes shut. “I think I have the secret that you’re lookingfor.”

Static.

“You do, do you?” the voice hissed, dark and deep, giving nothing away. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Reyna!”

Arthur dug his heels into the floor as Oliver pushed against him.

“Oliver, stop!” Simon said from the struggle.

“It’s about what happened to Jack Harvey, in Hanover, in January,” Reyna said, her chin bunched and trembling, eyes still closed. “How he died.”

Static as she let go of the button, eyes flickering open, backing away against the door as she looked up and saw Oliver’s face, the silent threat in his eyes.

The static stretched on and on. Universes bloomed and died in the seconds they waited, listening to the empty hiss. Red willed the voice to come, like she had countless times before, different voice, different reason, but it never worked before either.

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