“Miss you,” Tim chimes in after a beat, even though he disliked Brandon as much as I did.
Chelsea looks at Shane, whose eyes have gone glassy. “We’re going to find who did this to you, man,” Shane says. “And we’re going to make him pay.”
_____
Now that we’ve said our goodbyes to Brandon, Chelsea consents to going back into the house to figure out our options for our next move. Unfortunately, those options are limited. The phone lines are dead, either from the storm or something more ominous. The tires are slashed on both of our two vehicles. And the storm outside is still raging as bad as it ever was.
“Kayla didn’t have much luck walking back to the main road.” Chelsea stands in the middle of the living room, wringing water out of her long hair. “But I bet one of you guys could make it. It’s not that far, is it? Like, a mile?”
“A mile and a half.” Shane makes a face. “And you saw how slippery the road is, so it’s a difficult hike. But what worries me more is that with the amount of wind, there could be some power lines that came down. One wrong step and you could get electrocuted.”
Great. So our choices are to stay here with a murderer lurking around or risk getting drowned or electrocuted.
“I think we should stay put until the storm dies down,” Shane says. “At the very least, we might get our phone service back. And the roads will dry out.”
I look at Tim with my eyebrows raised. He lets out a long sigh. “I agree. It’s not safe out there right now.”
Both of the boys seem firmly in favor of staying put. I look over at Chelsea, who is completely waterlogged. Her mascara has dissolved into streaks running down her cheeks, even though she always gets waterproof. I guess waterproof mascara isn’t a match for the storm.
“Brooke,” she says, “can I talk to you?” She eyes the boys. “Alone.”
She doesn’t wait for an answer. She seizes me by the arm and pulls me out of the room, leaving Shane and Tim staring after us. She doesn’t stop until we’re at the back door, which she wrenches open and pulls me outside, slamming the door closed behind her.
“Chelsea, it’s cold out!” I hug my arms to my chest. “Can we go back inside?”
“No.” Chelsea glances at the back door almost accusingly. “I’m really freaked out, Brooke. Somebody did this to Brandon. They… he was stabbed. Someone stabbed him to death! He’s dead!”
“I know…”
She swipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. “We’re not safe here. You know that, don’t you? We need to get out of here.”
“You saw what happened to Kayla when she tried to make a run for it…”
Her eyes look wild with the leaking mascara. “Kayla was the worst cheerleader on the squad—she could barely make it through a practice session. You and me—I bet we could make it. And if not us, the boys could for sure.”
“But you heard what Shane said about the power lines…”
“Or maybe he doesn’t want us to leave. Did you think of that?”
Yes, I did think of that. But it still makes sense. I’m not excited to wander out in the mess outside, especially without proper footwear. Isn’t that how people get frostbite?
“Shane’s not a murderer,” I say firmly. “It was probably some drifter wandering through the area. There’s no way it could have been one of us.”
Chelsea is gulping as she tries to take in air. She looks like she’s seconds away from having a panic attack.
“Chels?” I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Chelsea, you have to breathe. Take some deep breaths, okay?”