Blood.
“You’re not really here,” I said, clarity dawning on me. I shook my head, trying to force his image to disappear. “You’re not real.”
His eyebrows furrowed together, his hurt evident. “Why would you say that?”
I shut my eyes tight, certain he’d be gone when I opened them.
He wasn’t.
“You’re not Sam, you’re not Sam, you’re not Sam,” I whispered as he stepped closer. My thigh bumped against the ladder. I had nowhere to run.
“Ellerie, I’m right here,” he said, tears welling up in his words. “Aren’t I?” His voice broke, so soft, I almost didn’t catch it. “Am I still in the pines? Oh God, let me be out of the pines, please, please.” His entreaties morphed into giant sobs racking his body. He fell to his knees, his chest heaving.
I rubbed my eyes, but still he would not disappear. With shaking fingers I dared to reach out and touch his shoulder.
“Sam?” I whispered. My hand came away stained dark red.
This felt real.
But so had the other visions.
He uncurled from his fetal position and gazed up at me with such hope that my heart hurt. “Can you see me, Ellerie?”
I knelt beside him. “Of course I can. Of course I— What is that?” I dared to ask, rubbing my fingers together to get rid of the sticky, stinking paste coating them.
“The supply run,” he said dully, glancing down at his ruined clothing. “What’s left of them.”
“The supply run,” I repeated, piecing together his sentences. “They’re dead.”
“Every last man.” He pushed one hand across his cheek, flicking aside a piece of…something best not dwelt upon…and sniffed. “Everyone but me.”
It was incomprehensible. We’d seen them just days before. “Asher? And Jonas? They can’t be—you’re saying they’re…”
His back teeth ground together and his mouth wrinkled into a sneer. “If they went on the supply run, they’re gone. Dead. Dead and gone and gone and dead and what about that phrase don’t you understand?”
“How?” The word escaped my lips, even as I cringed from his grip on my shoulders.
“The monsters. They’re back. Or…they’ve been here all along….I don’t know how Papa and Whitaker made it through without encountering them.”
“Did you…did you actually see them?”
He nodded grimly. “We heard them following us for the first two days, making a horrible clicking noise and laughing….They waited until the third night to attack. It was…” He let out a strangled noise, burying his face in his bloodied hands as he remembered. “They’re not wolves, Ellerie. They’re something far, far worse.”
“A bear?” I hoped, even as my mind recalled images of that misshapen stag.
“No bear could scoop Jonas Marjanovic into the air.” His throat constricted. “He was the first to go. I still hear his screams. His blood showered down on us like a hot summer rain. They took Asher next.” The memory of whatever had happened to the poor man brought up a wave of bile Samuel was helpless to fight. He turned his head, emptying out his stomach with a shuddered cry.
I knew I should ask what had happened to Joseph, but I didn’t truly want to know.
“Did you hurt any of them?”
He frowned as if my words were incomprehensible.
“Sam—there were guns. Were you able to shoot any of them?”
“Them.” His eyes were glassy and unfocused.
“The creatures.”
“There…there were no guns.”
“None of the men took guns?” Disbelief colored my voice.
“They weren’t there. Not when we needed them. Even my pocketknife was gone.” He patted his pants, feeling for it. It was one of his most treasured possessions. Papa had given it to him on our sixteenth birthday, and Sam was never without it. “Am I really here now?” he asked quietly, laying his head against my side. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, running red. “When I was lost in the pines…sometimes I thought I was back at home, back with you and Merry and Sadie. Mama and Papa too. I was so certain I was there…here,” he corrected me. “But then I’d wake up and I was even farther from home.”
“You’re here now,” I promised. “You’re home and you’re safe.”
“You said that before, but I always woke up in the woods,” he whimpered. Then he let out a long sigh. “I’ve messed up, Ellerie. I’ve messed up so many things. When I was out there, with those things talking to me, laughing at me, they said…they knew…”
“Enough,” I said firmly. He was spiraling and it needed to be stopped. His eyes faded into and out of focus, blinking heavily. I knew I ought to offer some comfort, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch whatever it was of Jonas Marjanovic that had turned Samuel’s blond locks umber. “We need to get you out of the loft, get you cleaned up. Sadie and Merry can’t see you like this.”
“They’re going to hate me.”
“They won’t do anything of the sort.” I hauled him to his feet, choking back a gag as the stench clogged my throat.
“You do,” he said, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “I see it in your eyes. I made too many mistakes, and now you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” The honesty in my answer surprised me. “You messed up, as you said. You’ve made mistakes—colossally big and stupid mistakes—and I don’t understand why…but…you’re the other half of me, Sam. I would never hate myself.”
He pressed his lips together, but a sob still broke free. “It’s surprisingly easy to do.”
“You’re going to have to tell the Elders what happened,” I said, jumping to next steps, planning and preparing. I already knew the sugar cakes would not be made today.
Samuel shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t relive that again. Please, Ellerie, don’t make me go to them.”
“They can come here,” I reasoned. “But first, you’ve got to get all this off you.”
After a moment of consideration, Samuel let me help him out of the loft.
* * *
The Elders came. The Elders went. The Elders returned with more men to listen to Samuel’s story, and it was finally decided upon.