Page 111 of This is Why We Lied

Will kept his uninjured hand loose at his side, close to the gun on his hip. He saw a fallen log twenty yards ahead. The other part of the rope handrail was tied off to a large eye-bolt. He told himself he would turn back around to check on Chuck when he reached the log. His ears burned as he tried to pick out any sound other than the shush of the water flowing over the rocks. Going up the trail wasn’t as easy as going down. His foot slipped. He cursed when he caught himself with his injured hand. He pushed himself up. By the time he’d made it to the log, he figured Chuck would be gone.

He was wrong.

Chuck was lying face-down in the middle of the creek.

“Chuck!” Will started running. “Chuck!”

Chuck’s hand was trapped between two rocks. Water rushed around his body. He wasn’t trying to lift his head. He wasn’t even moving. Will kept running, unclipping his gun, the satellite phone, emptying his pockets because he knew he was going to have to go in. His boots slid in the mud. He made it down the slope on his ass, but he was a second too late.

The current pried Chuck’s hand from the rocks. His body went spinning down the creek. Will had no choice but to go after him. He made a shallow dive into the water, then surfaced with an overhand stroke. The temperature was so cold he felt like he was moving through ice. Will pushed himself to keep moving. He was just barely keeping up with the flow. He pushed harder. Chuck was fifteen feet away, then ten, then Will reached for his arm.

He missed.

The current had grown stronger. The water frothed and churned as it hooked around a bend in the creek. He slammed into Chuck’s body, his head jerking back on his neck. Will reached for him again, but suddenly, they were both tossed around by rapids. Will searched for the shore but he was spinning too fast. He tried in vain to find purchase with his feet. He heard a loud roar. Will thrashed, trying to get a lock on the horizon. His head kept going under. He pushed himself up and was momentarily paralyzed by what he saw. Fifty yards ahead. The turbulence flattened out as the surface of the water kissed the sky.

Shit.

This was the real waterfall Delilah had been talking about.

Forty yards.

Thirty.

Will made one last, desperate lunge toward Chuck, his fingers catching on the vest. He kicked his feet, trying to find something to brace against. The current wrapped around his legs like a giant squid, pulling him downstream. His head was dragged below the surface. He was going to have to let go of Chuck. Will tried to shake his hand loose, but he was caught on the vest. His lungs ached for air. He struggled to kick himself backward.

His foot landed against something solid.

Will pushed off with every ounce of strength he had left in his body. He flailed across the current, blindly reaching out his hand. His fingers touched something solid. The surface was rough and unyielding. He’d managed to grab onto the side of a boulder. It took three tries before he was able to pull himself up. He hooked his hips on the ledge to give himself time to breathe. His eyes were burning. His lungs were shaking. He coughed out a torrent of bile and water.

Chuck was still tethered to his hand by the fishing vest, but he was no longer dragging Will toward the waterfall. The man was floating on his back in a shallow gorge. His arms and legs were straight out, almost perpendicular to his body. Will looked at Chuck’s face. Eyes wide. Water flowing through his open mouth. Well and truly dead.

Will crawled up the rest of the way onto the rock. He put his head between his knees. Waited for his vision to clear. His stomach to stop turning. Several minutes passed before he was able to survey the damage. The fishing vest was hanging off Chuck’s shoulder. The other end was tightly twisted around Will’s wrist and hand. The same hand that had been injured twelve hours ago. The same hand that was now pulsing like a bomb was ticking down inside.

There was nothing to do but get it over with. Will slowly peeled away the heavy, wet canvas, unwinding it like a puzzle. It took time. Hooks had doubled back on the material. They were in all shapes and sizes with multi-colored ends tied to look like insects. It felt like forever until Will got to his actual skin.

He stared in disbelief.

The bandage had saved him. Six hooks had clawed into the thick gauze. One hook was wrapped around the bottom of his index finger like a ring. The skin bled a little when he pulled the hook away, but it was more like a paper cut than an amputation. The last hook had clawed into the cuff of his shirt sleeve. Will wasn’t going to mess with the barb. He ripped it out. He held up his hand to the light to make sure he was really unscathed. No blood. No sight of bone.

He’d gotten lucky, but the feeling of relief was short-lived.

Will had started out the day with one victim. Now he had two.

January 16, 2016

Dear Jon—

I sat down to write your gotcha letter and I just stared at the blank page so long because I didn’t think there was much to tell you. Things have been real calm lately, which I’m grateful for. We’ve got a nice routine going. I get you up and ready for school and Fish drives you down the mountain and then we all get to work helping guests.

I know your uncle Fish would prefer to start his day in the creek but that’s the kind of man he is, giving up his mornings for a little boy. Even Bitty is helping out, going to pick you up from school in the afternoons. I think she just needed you to get a little older. She’s never liked babies. You two are getting real close. She’ll let you in the kitchen when she’s making cookies for the guests. Sometimes she’ll even let you sit with her while she knits on the couch. And I’m okay with that for now. Just remember what I told you about how she can turn. Once you’re on her bad side you will never see that sweet side again, and you can trust me on that cause it’s been so long I don’t even know what that side looks like anymore.

Anyway, I was thinking back on last year and wondering what I could tell you, but mostly that was the important part, that things have been easy for a stretch. It ain’t much of a life up here on this mountain, but it’s a life. I walk around this place and I think about you running it some day and that makes me happy enough.

But one thing I remembered was something that happened in spring of last year. Maybe you remember part of what happened, because I lit into you like my hair was on fire. I’d never done that to you before and I never will again. I know I can be short, and your daddy would be the first to tell you I’ve got some of Bitty’s iciness, but you’ve never been on the bad end of one of my tempers. So I felt like I should tell you why I was so mad.

What I want to say right up front is that your uncle Fish is a good person. He can’t help it that Papa beat the fight out of him. I know that him being the oldest and also being a man means he’s supposed to protect me, but life just made it the other way around. Which I’m fine with to be honest. I love my brother and that’s a fact.

Now this next thing I’m going to tell you should always be kept a secret, because it belongs to me and not to you. What happened was, you were reading in bed instead of going to sleep. I told you to turn off your light, then I went back to my room and lay down in bed. I was thinking I’d give it another minute before I checked on you again. Then I must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing I know, I woke up and Chuck was on top of me.

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