IT WAS THE eve of All Hallows’ Eve. The rain had stopped, but the asphalt was still slick with water and oil. A lurid sunrise—worthy of Hawaii—illuminated the sky. It was such an obscene contrast to the overhanging dread that it felt like they were being mocked.
Makani and Ollie had slipped away from Grandma Young before she’d even known that they were there. Chris drove them back to the Larsson house. This time, Makani sat beside Ollie in the backseat. Their fingers were icicles as they grasped each other with all four hands. Despite the ideal opportunity to escape, David had chosen to come home. He’d tried to kill her and failed. What if he was returning to finish the job?
“The truck driver was stopped just past Norfolk at twelve forty-five a.m.,” Chris said, filling in some of the blanks. “Must’ve been the only person in America who hadn’t heard about the manhunt. He claimed that he only listens to Christian talk radio, and they’ve been yammering about the new Supreme Court justice all week. He told the deputy that David was quiet and polite. He also said it looked like he was wearing a woman’s coat.”
Despite seeing it in the surveillance footage, this last detail startled Makani.
“My guess,” Chris said, “is that he’s still wearing the same bloodstained jeans and hoodie, and he needed something to cover them up. The coat probably belongs to Katie’s mom. The driver said he dropped him off in front of a farm near Troy.”
Troy was only one town over. Alex lived on a ranch just outside it.
“David told him it was his parents’ farm. We’ve already interviewed the farmers, but they were asleep. They didn’t see or hear anything unusual. The other neighbors are being interviewed now, and there’s a team searching the surrounding fields.”
Makani and Ollie tightened their icy grips.
There was nothing else they could do.
• • •
The cold autumn air crackled throughout the countryside, electric with anticipation.
Makani and Ollie were bundled inside sleeping bags on Chris’s hardwood floor. Heat whirred out from the registers. With the daylight, locked door, and armed police officer, Makani’s body finally succumbed to rest. Her dreams began heavy and empty, but, over the course of the afternoon, they struggled into existence. A sharp knife in one hand, a severed ponytail in the other. A hooded figure lurching out from behind a grandfather clock. She would fight these nightmares for the rest of her life.
While the trio slept, strangers streamed in from out of town. Even more media, but also armchair detectives—online sleuths, some well-meaning and some not, jumping into ambitious action—as well as morbid gawkers, deceitful psychics, and drunk college kids, who thought it’d be a hoot to visit the famous corn maze. The displaced Sweeney Todd cast and crew had turned it into a haunted corn maze, and the Martin family would donate the weekend’s profits to the victims’ families.
“Knowing he’s still out there just makes the maze a lot scarier,” a student wearing a scarlet ball cap with a cream N said, speaking to a field reporter. His fraternity brothers whooped behind him on camera. “Plus, you know. Charity.”
Even the National Guard rolled in. They were to stand watch over the football game so that the townspeople would feel brave enough to attend. There were no parking spaces left at the school. The tailgate party had started early. The playoffs didn’t stop for tornado sirens, and they weren’t about to stop for a serial killer.
And through it all, Makani, Ollie, and Chris slept.
• • •
Chris’s phone rang when the sun was low on the horizon. Makani scrambled up to a sitting position against his bed, her bulging eyes on the door. It was still closed.
“Yeah,” Chris said into the phone.
Ollie scootched out from his sleeping bag to hunker down with Makani. He was careful not to sit on the side of her injured arm.
“Shit.” Chris sighed. “Okay, yeah. See you soon.”
Makani burrowed into the shelter of Ollie’s body as the phone thumped onto the bed above them. Chris released another sigh. “What is it?” Ollie asked.
“Nothing. Nothing new,” Chris clarified. “Just . . . shouldn’t have slept so late.”
“You need to go in?”
“Yeah.” His feet swung over the edge of the bed beside Ollie. “So, I’ve gotta head toward Troy, which is in the opposite direction of where you need to go. We’ll take separate cars, but we’ll leave at the same time. You guys are to drive straight to the hospital, okay? And you’re to stay there until I tell you to leave.”
Makani and Ollie nodded.
“I’m gonna check the house, just to be safe.” Chris stood, picking up his gun from the nightstand. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.” In the doorway, he glanced back at them. “Do you have your phones?”
Their phones were already in their hands. They held them up.
Chris vanished down the hall. Ollie’s under-eye circles were so dark that it looked like he’d been punched. Makani wished that she could touch his skin and heal it.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No. Are you?”
“No.” But he smiled, which made her exhale a faint laugh.
Chris’s bedroom was as disheveled as Ollie’s. Bags from Sonic and the gas station were scattered everywhere, and heaps of clothing were piled in front of the closet. The clothes looked clean, though permanently unfolded. The only vestiges of his youth appeared to be the three dusty guitars hanging on the wall—one acoustic, two electric. Beneath them was an amp covered in coffee cups and mail.
The upstairs floorboards creaked as Chris moved from room to room. Makani’s gaze snapped back to the door. “This is so messed up.”
“The most messed up,” Ollie said.
She held her breath as the footsteps continued toward the bathroom.
“I mean,” he said, “I slept beside you all day and didn’t think about sex once.”
Her head remained locked, but her eyes swiveled toward him.
He grinned. “That was a lie.”
The wooden stairs groaned as Chris crept down them. Makani shook her head, but she was smiling slightly. Their ears strained.
They waited.
Suddenly, a yell rang out, followed by a loud crash. Makani gasped and shrank as Ollie clung to her in horror. There was the indistinct sound of things settling to the floor.
“Squidward!” Chris said. “Fuck! You scared me.”
Ollie pried his body off hers, embarrassed, though she sensed he’d been more scared for his brother than himself. She wondered if he was afraid every time Chris left for work. That must be tough.
A few seconds later, Chris returned. “Sorry about that.” He seemed embarrassed, too. “We’re good. We leave in fifteen minutes, okay?”
Fifteen. The number surprised Makani. Clearly, they weren’t used to having a girl around. She hurried to wash her face and change clothes, and realized—as the brothers were both ready in under ten—that the number had actually been inflated for her sake.
Ollie handed her a steaming Pop-Tart as she slid into his car. She practically swallowed it whole. When they hit the highway, they parted from Chris.
“What the—?” Ollie said under his breath.
Makani looked up from checking her texts. The opposite lane of traffic was at a standstill. Dirty cars and trucks and RVs were backed up as far as she could see as a lone, redheaded employee with a flag waved them into the parking lot for the corn maze.
“Is it always this busy on a Friday night?” she asked.
“Never,” Ollie said.
Vehicle after vehicle was packed with college-aged kids—voices hollering, music thumping, windows rolled down despite the frigid temperature. Makani stared at them with open displeasure, though not with disbelief. She’d lived through too much to feel disbelief. “People are sick. They think this is all a game.”
On the other side of the maze, one of Ollie’s neighbors was trying to turn out of their driveway. “That’s gonna take a while,” he said.
Makani texted her friends with an update and told them where she was going. It was important to know where everyone was right now. Darby was at home, and Alex was at school with the band. But as soon as Makani’s message disappeared, her phone vibrated with a response from Alex:
Makani frowned as she texted:
Ollie watched her from the corner of his eye. “What’s going on?”
“Alex. I think she’s having panic attack.”
“Does she need us to come get her?” Ollie asked as another text appeared from Alex:
Makani said. Emoji heart.
Alex said. Emoji scream.
• • •
The stadium was packed, and the wind carried the cheers and marching band and commotion all the way to downtown Osborne. As their car raced past Walnut Street, Makani looked toward her grandmother’s house. It was just out of sight.
The bright lights of the football field pierced through the dusk. Alex was waiting for them at the front gate. The whole area was packed, but she stood alone.
Ollie unlocked the doors, rolled down his window, and waved to her. The aroma of cheap chocolate invaded the car. Tomorrow’s trick-or-treating had been canceled, and word had spread to bring candy to the game. Costumed children dashed through the madness, collecting treats in their pillowcases and plastic orange pumpkins. Teenagers and adults had been banned from wearing costumes—in fear that David might hide among them—so they were decked out in scarlet and gold instead.
The home crowd was so huge that it had spilled onto the visitors’ side. The cheerleaders were leading them in the “Lion Roar,” a school-spirit chant, and a powerful stampede of feet pounded and rumbled against the metal bleachers.
Two members of the National Guard were visible just behind the main chain-link fence. They were dressed in fatigues and carrying assault rifles. They were supposed to make everyone feel protected, but Makani felt a nervous, unpleasant shudder.
Alex flew into the backseat with her trumpet. Her plume caught on the doorframe and knocked the hat sideways. “Ow.” She undid the chin strap and ripped off the hat. She glared at the plume. Or maybe she was scared of it.
“Are you okay?” Makani asked. It was a dumb question.
Alex slammed the door closed. “Go!”
“Won’t you get in trouble for leaving?” Ollie asked.
“Fuck that,” Alex said. “Fuck all this. I can’t play a peppy fight song and pretend that you guys weren’t almost murdered. I can’t pretend that my crush and my section leader and three of my other classmates weren’t actually murdered. And I can’t pretend that the loser who did it isn’t still out there!”
That was enough for Ollie. He pulled away from the curb. Makani unbuckled her seat belt and crawled over the console into the backseat, where Alex was fumbling to unzip her red uniform. Makani helped her with the hidden buttons, which Alex had forgotten about, and then out of the jacket. Alex shook it away on the verge of tears.
As Makani dug through her pockets for tissues, her phone rang. Darby had skipped straight past texting. “Is everything okay?” Makani asked.
“Put him on speakerphone,” Alex said.
“I’m fine,” Darby said. Makani pressed the button, and his voice filled the car. “I’m only calling because I’m driving.”
“That’s still unsafe,” Ollie said. And then he winced for being the square.
Makani wondered if his reaction was triggered by too many car-crash stories from Chris. Or maybe any type of accident reminded him of his parents. She still wasn’t wearing a seat belt, so she strapped in and motioned for Alex to do the same.
“I know, but I just got your texts,” Darby said. “My signal was on the fritz from all these damn tourists. Is Alex with you?”
“I’m here!” Alex said. “Where are you?”
“I was coming to get you. I’m passing the Dollar General right now.”
“We’re almost to the hospital,” Makani said. “Meet us in the parking lot?”
Darby’s hatchback pulled up beside them less than five minutes later. Darby’s and Alex’s doors flew open, and they ran into each other’s arms. They hugged for days.
Makani crawled back into the passenger’s seat and rubbed her hands in front of the vents. Ollie turned up the temperature.
Darby and Alex popped into the vacated backseat. Darby was dressed in an old-man tweed sport coat with actual elbow patches, and he was wearing a button-up and sweater underneath it for warmth. He snapped the suspenders of Alex’s uniform. “Did you guys see this? She’s trying to steal my look.”
“Did you lock your car?” Ollie asked.
The question instantly brought the mood back down.
Darby assured him. “It’s locked.”
They fell into silence as they surveilled their surroundings. The parking lot was nearly empty. After several tense seconds Makani said, “We’re running out of time.”
No one challenged her. The apprehension in the car was suffocating.
“I can’t just sit here,” she said. He might be looking for me.
Alex agreed. “He’s killing faster and faster, and since everyone’s looking for him—everyone not at the football game,” she added darkly, “he probably feels like he has to finish his stupid plan, whatever it is, now. Before he gets caught.”
“I wish we knew who else he’s been gaslighting,” Makani said.
Ollie stared, unblinking, through the windshield. “Haley, Matt, Rodrigo, you, Caleb, Katie. What’s the real connection?”
“Cliques?” Darby was hesitant. “None of you hung out together, but you all had a unique social group. Maybe David felt alone. Like he didn’t belong to any group.”
“Except he did,” Alex said.
Darby shrugged. “I know, but . . . I don’t know. It seems like there’s something there. So far, he’s singled out one person from every group.”
“I still think he’s targeting the most talented students,” Alex said. “Or ambitious. Or maybe even just the people who stand out. Maybe you all make him feel inferior and invisible, and this is his way of becoming more visible.”
When no one disagreed, Alex pressed on. “Who else seems exceptional? Who else is out there standing in front of crowds or making headlines or winning competitions?”
“Shit,” Ollie said quietly. His expression turned grave. “Do you remember the day when there was hardly anyone at school but us?”
He was still staring ahead, but Makani knew the question was for her. “You mean, Wednesday? Two days ago? The day we were attacked?”
This realization seemed to stun him. During periods of trauma, time could be funny like that. He tried to shake it off. “Right. But do you remember that bad joke I made? Stanton told us over the announcements that Rosemarie Holt had won a barrel race, and then I said that she should watch out.”
Makani touched her lips in fear at the memory: Clapping with the other students. So grateful for any small piece of good news.
Darby shifted uneasily. “Rosemarie’s been winning those events for a long time.”
“Years,” Ollie said.
“Oh God.” Alex looked like she might throw up. “What do we do?”
Chris answered after the first ring. Ollie repeated their theory but was quickly cut off. His brow furrowed as he listened. “Yeah, we’re fine,” he said. “Yeah, okay—”
Ollie stared at his phone. “He hung up.”
“What is it?” Makani asked. What is it now?
“They received a call from another trucker who picked up David. The guy just saw him on the news and recognized him. This new driver said he must have picked up David not long after the first driver dropped him off, and Chris said he knew the exact location. It was just stupid, random luck that neither driver knew who he was.”
Makani’s heart plunged. What were the chances?
“This guy claims to have dropped off David on the other side of Osborne. The police are headed there now. They think he’s been snaking his way back to town through the fields. They think he might be headed to the stadium for a blitz attack.”
Alex grabbed Makani’s seat and shook it roughly. “I knew it!”
Makani fixed a hand over Alex’s to stop her. “That doesn’t sound like his MO”
“Are you kidding? What would shake up this town more than an attack during the first game of the playoffs?”
“What did Chris say about Rosemarie?” Darby asked.
Ollie frowned. “I think when Zachary wasn’t a target, we lost any small sway we might have had.”
“But someone needs to warn her!” Darby said.
Ollie was already scrolling through his contacts. He caught Makani’s look and explained, “Neighbor. Her family lives on the other side of the corn maze.”
Of course. Everyone was connected to everyone in Osborne. Makani tamped down her ill-timed jealousy as the call went straight to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Ollie Larsson. Call me as soon as you get this. It’s an emergency. Everyone’s okay, just . . . call me back.”
Makani stared at him, her eyes wide and frightened. “What now?”
His voice hardened. “Seat belts, everyone.” And then he turned the key in the ignition and pushed the pedal to the floor.