When Clementine unlocked the front door, she saw a terrified, angry and very wet Oscar. He barged past her and slammed the door so fast she nearly lost fingers. ‘Christ, Oscar.’
His eyes were wild. ‘You locked me out.’
‘I thought you had a key?’
‘I gave it to Isla—are the doors and windows locked?’
‘Yes,’ Clementine said. ‘You’re safe.’
This didn’t seem to calm him down. ‘Where is she?’
‘Isla? She’s not here. You couldn’t find her out there?’
‘I was a bit busy getting attacked by an axe murderer.’ He ran his hands through his wet hair, spraying the wall behind him.
Clementine’s jaw dropped. ‘Axe murderer?’
‘Someone in a raincoat and a ski mask. They tried to chop my head off. I got away, but then I couldn’t find the trail.’ Oscar bent over like he was going to vomit.
‘Oh my God.’ It didn’t sound real. Even after Dom’s murder, Clementine hadn’t really felt like she was living inside a horror movie until now.
Cole appeared, carrying a towel. He didn’t look as shocked as Clementine felt. ‘Must have been the owner of the camp site,’ he said, throwing the towel to Oscar. ‘Their bike is up here, too.’
‘Fuck.’
Guilt tugged at Clementine’s heart. She and Cole had left Oscar behind, knowing the camper was out there somewhere. Forsaking all others. Keeping her vows felt even worse than breaking them.
If only they’d spent the weekend playing Settlers of Catan. Yesterday she’d dreaded returning to her empty house; now she’d give anything to go back to Warrigal, where her biggest problem was her husband’s weak sperm.
Felicity emerged from the west bedroom, wearing a puffer jacket over a T-shirt and jeans. Clementine wondered again what the hell she’d been doing, prancing around in sexy underwear. Had she been hoping to resurrect her husband somehow?
Clementine blushed, remembering her own lingerie set and her hopes it would make Cole more fertile.
‘Glad you could join us,’ Felicity told Oscar drily.
‘Is Isla here?’ he asked.
It struck Clementine then: Oscar had been in love with Felicity. She’d seen the hungry sideways looks; the way he followed her from room to room and laughed loudest at her jokes. But the love was obvious to Clementine only in its absence, when he ignored Felicity and asked about his wife.
‘We thought she’d be with you,’ Felicity said.
Cole went to lock the door again, but Oscar barred his way. ‘If Isla’s not here, she must still be out there.’
‘So is an axe murderer,’ Cole said. ‘We can’t leave the door unlocked, mate.’
‘Wait,’ Felicity said. ‘So the person with the axe attacked Oscar, and the rest of you ran, but you and Isla got separated somehow?’
‘No,’ Cole said. ‘Isla vanished, then we found the camp site and started running back up the hill, then Oscar was attacked.’
‘How long was Isla missing before the killer turned up?’
‘I don’t know,’ Oscar said. ‘Why?’
Clementine wondered if Felicity was implying it had been Isla with the axe. But that made no sense. Now that they knew someone had been camping out there, that person had to be the murderer—didn’t they?
Felicity leaned against the wall. ‘So, Dom’s dead, Isla’s missing, we still have no way to contact the outside world, and we can’t leave the house because someone is hunting us. Is that about right?’
‘Pretty much,’ said Cole and Clementine together.
‘Well, fuck this,’ Felicity said. ‘I’m going back to bed.’