Page 43 of The Stranger

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

TIBBY

I stare down at the photo of the boy. There’s a frame designed around it, which says “Class of 2023.” He just graduated this year. He was supposed to have his whole life ahead of him. He was probably coming home for the holidays, maybe to introduce his parents to his new girlfriend.

Now both of them are missing. Their car has been stolen.

Most likely, they’re both dead.

Just like Ernest.

His face flashes through my mind again.

His poor wife.

“If this is his car, Tibby, it means they stole it. For whatever reason. Maybe they stole it and left them stranded or…” Walker keeps his voice low as he explains it to me as if I might not get it. “Maybe not.”

“I know,” I say gently, not needing further explanation. “What do we do? How do I know I can trust you?” That idea ricochets through me. He could be lying. He could’ve gotten this photo anywhere.

I can’t mistake the hurt in his eyes. “I think you know you can.”

“I thought I could, too. Until the knife.”

“I can explain that?—”

“What’s going on?” Lori shouts, moving closer to us.

“He’s sick,” I call over my shoulder, panic surging in my gut. I don’t want to be alone with her. I don’t want to be away from Walker. I shouldn’t trust him, but there’s no denying I do. “Give us a minute.”

“It was him, Tibby,” he says. “Them, maybe. Either way, we have to go.”

“Could they have killed Ernest, too?” It’s all coming together in my mind. “Tony told me he saw him, that he’d come to fix something in their room, but that gave them time to plant the body.”

He nods. “I think so. It has to be them.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he glances over my shoulder. “No! Tibby, look out!”

I turn to find Lori lunging for us, much closer than I expected. I scream, but my body freezes with fear. The knife she has in her hand isn’t the one they took from Walker. It’s larger, with a thick, black handle.

Leaping into action, Walker shoves me aside just in time for the knife to narrowly miss my back. Lori collides with him, and they roll on the ground, their bodies a tangled mess in the snow as he tries to fight her off.

“Walker!” I shout, pushing up to my feet.

In an instant, Tony is running over, too. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouts at her, hands on both sides of his face. “Lori, stop! Why are you… What are you…” The horror in his expression is obvious. Whatever is happening right now, I truly don’t think he’s involved. Either that, or whatever their plan was, she has completely gone against it. He doesn’t seem to know what his wife is capable of or why she’s attacking us, and neither do I. All I can assume is that she knows what we now know. Tony covers his mouth, his voice shaking as he begins to back away, heading for the car.

“The knife.” I race forward, shouting at him, “Stop! Help us! We need Walker’s knife!”

He stares at me, then at her, continuing to back away. Walker shoves her off, pushing to his feet and trying to run away, but she matches him step for step as he makes his escape.

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes locking with mine, and she rears her arm back. I watch in a horrified stupor, screaming out moments too late as the knife plunges into his back.

He stops at once, stunned by the injury, freezing up as if he’s run into an invisible wall. She pulls the knife back and shoves it into him again.

I don’t even realize I’m screaming until the sounds of my wails bring me back to reality.

I bend at my waist, emptying what little remains in my stomach onto the white snow.

When I look up, his entire body convulses with the impact of yet another blow. She’s methodical about the way she stabs him, emotionless even. It takes nothing from her but everything from him. Everything from me.

His fall to the ground is softened by the snow, and when she turns toward Tony and me, I scramble backward, breathless from the loss, weak from fear. My body trembles from vomiting, and my ears are ringing.

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