Winterwood

I should know the way out, I should sense the path that will lead us to the edge of the woods. But I can’t tell north from south or light from dark, the stars and the sky smeared out by the trees. If I was as clever as my grandmother, as sharp as most of the Walkers in my family, I could squeeze my eyes closed and feel the direction of the wind, the hiss of the river in the distance. But instead I feel dull and muted. The forest is hiding the way free, shifting around us—it doesn’t want us to leave.

Lin starts pacing along the old creek bed, his shadow bent at the shoulders. “We never should have come in here,” he repeats. “It was a dumb idea.”

“If Oliver was really hiding in here, we had to find him,” Rhett reminds the others. “We had to be sure.” I can tell they’ve all sobered up. Whatever stupid plan they made back at camp when they were drinking, whatever they thought they’d find by trekking into the Wicker Woods, is all starting to fall apart.

“She probably never found Oliver in these woods anyway,” Jasper says. “She made it all up.”

I shoot Jasper a look but he doesn’t notice. “I didn’t make it up.”

“Did you ever see him?” Rhett asks, peering at Suzy.

But Suzy shakes her head. “No.”

I turn to her, standing only a foot away from me, and I feel the corners of my mouth turn down. “When you came back to my house, drunk, after the bonfire, he was there in the living room with me.”

She lifts one shoulder. “I don’t really remember that night,” she admits. “I don’t remember coming back to your house, just waking up on the couch.”

I shake my head at her. I didn’t make him up! I want to scream.

“Walkers can’t be trusted,” Jasper points out. “You’re all liars.”

I lift my gaze to him and take a step closer. I’m going to wrap my hands around his throat. I’m going to push all the air from his lungs to make him shut up. I can’t stand the sound of his voice. I can’t stand any of them.

But Suzy touches my arm, and when I look at her, she shakes her head. “Leave it,” she whispers.

I pull my arm away from her. She’s lying about Oliver—about not seeing him. To protect herself maybe. But I don’t know why.

Lin has stopped pacing, but he knits his hands together nervously, his skin gone pale. “We’re going to die out here.”

Rhett barks at Lin. “Don’t be an idiot. We’re not going to die.”

Lin says something back, but I’ve stopped listening. I’m walking away from them, toward the trees, where I can see movement in the shadows—limbs writhing, coiling. Something isn’t right.

“We have to get out of here,” I say aloud. But no one is listening.

Rhett and Jasper and Lin are arguing. About the woods, about being lost, about whose idea it was to come in here in the first place.

“I’m not going to fucking die in here!” Jasper shouts.

“Maybe if you weren’t so wasted, you wouldn’t have led us deeper into this screwed-up forest,” Rhett says.

“It was your idea to come looking for Oliver,” Jasper barks back, shoving Rhett in the chest.

“Stop it!” Suzy yells.

But Rhett shoves Jasper back and their faces are twisted in anger, hands curled into fists.

“Cut it out,” Lin says, and he ducks between them, pushing them apart. “You guys can bloody yourselves up when we get out of here.”

“If we ever get out here,” Rhett snaps.

Jasper’s face twists into an odd shape—eyebrows peaked sharply into his forehead—like he’s thinking something wicked and dark. Something we couldn’t possibly imagine. “I’ll fucking get us out of here,” he says suddenly, lip curling upward.

The next few motions happen quickly.

Jasper pushes his hand into his pocket, reaching for something—the lighter. “We’ll burn our way out,” he says defiantly, chin raised, eyes so huge he looks half-crazed. “We’ll burn this whole fucking forest to the ground.”

He holds the silver lighter out in front of him, and Lin exclaims, “What the hell are you doing!” But Jasper flicks the lighter and it sparks to life in his hands.

I can feel the trees inching closer; the ground shudders, roots pushing upward. “What’s happening?” Suzy asks, glancing back at me. A tendril of spiky roots has begun to circle around her ankles, slithering up her calves.

I’ve never seen the forest like this—violent and angry. Awake.

Suzy hasn’t yet noticed the root rising up from the soil—she’s staring at me, pleading for me to do something. And in the next second, Jasper drops the lighter onto a nest of leaves and pine needles near the base of a tree.

“No!” I shriek, stepping toward Jasper, as if I could stop him. But it’s too late.

“You idiot,” Lin cries out. “You’ll burn us alive with it!”

I don’t expect the flame to catch, to ignite. The woods are too damp, too cold—but the fire licks through the pine needles quickly and expands to a nearby bearberry bush, the sudden burst of light illuminating the forest for the first time. And I see what I couldn’t before. The Wicker Woods have lowered over us, forming a cage of branches and limbs and roots. A web to ensnare us.