Page 59 of Five Survive

The headlights flicked off and on, following the pattern as Simon whispered it to himself. “Dot-dot-dot-dash-dash-dash-dot-dot-dot.”

Save our souls. Save us. Please save us.

Headlights on, headlights off.

An idea stolen from another memory. Red’s mom used to flash the headlights when she got home from work late, into the windows of the living room. She didn’t, though, on the night it mattered most. Red was waiting, angry and hurt, but she was waiting all the same.

“It’s leaving, Oliver,” Reyna said, placing one hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off.

“Keep going!”

Simon flicked the lever, back and forward, the world in front of them flickering in and out of existence as the headlights flashed. And Red too, flickering between here and then.

In seconds, the sound faded to a low drone, then a faint hum, until the night swallowed it whole, leaving not a trace behind.

“Gone,” Red said.

Simon let the headlights click off, sitting back in his seat. He exhaled, long and hard.

“Maybe it will come back,” Maddy said, looking at the back of Oliver’s head.

“Maybe,” he said. “If it was a rescue helicopter for us.”

That was when Red knew for certain that she and Oliver Lavoy did not live in the same world. She could never hear a helicopter and think it was sent for her. No one loved her enough for that.

“Nobody knows to rescue us,” Arthur said, looking up at the ceiling as though he could summon it back with the pull of his eyes.

“My mom, maybe.” Oliver’s voice almost failed him.

“I think it was just passing over,” Reyna added, her hand moving to Oliver’s shoulder, staying there this time.

“Maybe they saw. Maybe they saw the headlights,” he continued.

“Maybe,” she said, gently.

“How do you know Morse code?” Arthur was looking at Simon now.

“I mean I don’t, obviously,” he replied. “Just SOS. I got it from a film.Panic Room,I think it was.”

“Red, keep going.” Oliver turned back to her, mouth tensed in a grim line.

If she was their only hope, then the rest of them really were fucked. Red wasn’t getting them out of here. She raised the walkie-talkie and started skipping through the empty channels again.

Oliver sighed, rallying himself, shaking out his shoulders. Red was watching, saw the exact moment an idea hit him, lighting up his eyes.

“Maybe it wasn’t all for nothing,” he said. “Maybe there’s an idea in there, to make some kind of light signal. Here.” He darted forward, snatching his Zippo lighter up from the resource pile on the table. “He shot out the tank and the gas has leaked all over the road, right?”

“Right,” Maddy answered.

“If I light this”—he flicked up the flame to demonstrate, fire dancing in his too-wide eyes—“and I drop it out the window, it would set fire to that pool of gas. A fire. A signal fire. And maybe someone will see the smoke. Light travels farther than sound, right?”

“Not in the middle of the night,” Reyna told him. “No one will see the smoke.”

“And you’d set fire to the RV,” Arthur said, burying his fingers inhis pocket, like he was hiding them from Oliver as he confronted him. “Burn us inside with it.”

Oliver was getting desperate now, careless. Maybe Maddy was right, they should be afraid of him after all. Reyna could control him, though, couldn’t she? Calm him down, make him see sense.

“The RV is our only cover,” she said. “We can’t set fire to it.”

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