Page 70 of Five Survive

“It wasn’t your fault,” Arthur said.

But didn’t he know? Everything was. All of this.

“I need to pee,” Red said, only becoming true as she said it.

It was Arthur’s turn to shrug now, a wounded look crossing his eyes. She always did that, didn’t she? Whenever he got too close, whenever it got too real. But now she really did need to go.

Red scooped up the walkie-talkie and stepped toward the bathroom door, which Simon had left wide open. She paused as, right then, Oliver and Reyna reemerged from the bedroom. Reyna’s eyesshifted, rubbed red, and Red wondered whether they’d been fighting in there, in whispers so the others couldn’t hear. How bad could their secret be? Worse than hers? And what about Simon? He was being a little too quiet, wasn’t he? Or was that only because he thought the sniper was listening? And, now Red was thinking, Maddy hadn’t come over to speak to her in a while, only Arthur.

Oliver clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Anything?” he mouthed, lips and teeth moving in oversized strokes.

Red shook her head, saw the others doing the same, a thumbs-down from Simon. Maddy returned to her search of the glove compartment. Arthur was finishing up the kitchen for Red, opening the door to the microwave and checking inside.

Red pressed the button on the walkie-talkie, skipping up through channels four and five, swapping one empty static for another, so Oliver could see she was doing her job.

He wasn’t paying attention, though, glowering up at the ceiling.

“Light fittings?” he hissed, mouth overperforming the words again. “Arthur, help me. And can you pass that headlamp?” Oliver’s voice had returned to normal levels; clearly he thought the request was obscure enough if anyone was listening.

They didn’t need her. Red walked through the bathroom door, bringing the static with her, and shut the door, flicking the lock across. Should she have asked Oliver first? No, she didn’t need permission to pee, fuck him.

She placed the walkie-talkie down on the side of the sink, hissing from channel nine, and fiddled with the button on her jeans. Her fingers were too warm and rubbery.

“Simon, hit the lights,” Oliver called.

A moment later, the bathroom was swallowed by darkness. Didthey really have to turn her lights off too? Red pulled down her jeans and underwear, feeling blindly for the toilet behind her. She found it and sat down.

“Where’s that mop bucket?” Oliver’s voice sailed through the gaps under the door. “I need something to stand on.”

Well, now she couldn’t go, with them all right out there. Red scrabbled through the darkness for the faucet, turning it on so the others couldn’t hear her pee.

There was grunting outside, a twisting sound of metal grooves.

“Nothing. Next,” Oliver said. The sound of the bucket dropping down somewhere else. “Reyna, you have a quick look in Maddy’s bag. Check the pockets.”

Red’s stuff was in there too. But she would have seen if there was a microphone hidden in her things, when she emptied everything out and gutted the bag. If there even was a microphone anywhere to be found. It was starting to look doubtful. Why was Oliver so certain? The sniper had known about the note. It could have been a lucky guess, seeing Oliver shake Don’s hand. But had he even seen that from his position, with the back of Don’s jacket blocking his view? And he didn’t just know there was a note, he also knew that it was asking them to call the police, he said it like a definite, and that was a guess too far, wasn’t it? It had all been so fast.

Red scrabbled in the darkness for the toilet paper, ripping some free and folding it up.

“Next,” Oliver said, the plunk of the bucket again.

She stood, pulling her underwear up and fastening her jeans. She flushed and dipped her hands under the cold running water, flicking the faucet off and wiping her wet hands down her legs.

Red stepped forward in the pitch-black, stubbing her toe on the corner of the shower as she searched for the door.

She unlocked it and walked out, closing the door behind her.

The darkness was easier to navigate out here, spoiled by a beam of light attached to Oliver’s head as he studied the lights under the kitchen cabinets, removing one of their casings and shaking his head. Simon held the flashlight, and Arthur had the one on his phone.

“Nothing,” Oliver said, backing away. “Okay, you can turn the lights back on.”

Red was closest, free hands. She flicked up the switches and the inside of the RV reappeared. Maddy was still up front, knees on the driver’s seat, eyes level with the glove compartment. Reyna was standing on the sofa putting Maddy’s case back, checking the cupboard around it with the flat of her hand.

“Anything?” Oliver repeated, saying it out loud this time.

A low rumble of “No,” from Red, Arthur and Reyna.

No bug.

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