Page 34 of Five Survive

“Come here,” the voice said, crackling at the edges.

“He wants us to go and get it, I think,” Maddy said.

“I don’t care what he wants,” Oliver barked. “Let me think for a second.”

“He wants to talk to us?” Simon asked, exchanging a glance with Maddy.

“Hello.”

“He’s waiting,” Reyna said. “We don’t want to piss him off, Oliver.”

“What are we waiting for?” Simon said. He stepped forward, not checking back for permission from Oliver. “Come on.” He beckoned, not quite brave enough to go alone.

Red stepped up, Arthur too, walking carefully toward the front of the RV behind Simon, keeping their heads low. Red was ready to drop to her knees at the slightest sound or whistle of air, her breath tight in her chest.

The static grew louder, thicker, trying to draw up old and older memories, but Red thought them away. She needed her head here and now. And, anyway, Simon was right, the static was coming from somewhere near the driver’s seat. Beyond.

“Excuse me,” Oliver said, maneuvering Red out of his way with his elbow. Clearly he’d had his second to think, then. “Where is it?”

“I can’t see,” Simon said, crouching low to search the footwells in front of the driver and passenger seats. “Not here.”

“It’s outside,” Red said, following her ears. “Outside that window.” She gestured to the one she and Arthur had just boarded up with the flattened suitcase. It sounded like the radio was just beyond, hovering in the darkness of outside where the rules were different, waiting for them to let it in.

“Did you hear anything when you were covering the window?” Oliver asked.

“No, nothing.” Arthur swallowed.

“He must have put it there after we were done,” Red followed up. She would have recognized that sound right away, if it had been only inches from her head.

“We have to get it,” Simon said. “He wants to talk to us.” He peeled back a few strips of the duct tape that held the lid of the suitcasein place. “Anyone want to take a look? Oliver, you’re in charge, aren’tyou?”

“I’m not putting my face out that hole.”

“Hello.” The voice was right there, tinny but clear. A shiver passed up Red’s spine, climbing it to the back of her exposed neck.

“Well, I’m not putting my face out there either,” Simon hissed. “Can’t be on Broadway without a fucking face.”

“Hey, hey, one of you use your phone,” Reyna said, standing with Maddy just behind the gathering. “Take a video on your phone, out the window.”

“Good idea,” Arthur told her, already retrieving his from his front pocket. He swiped across to find his camera app, sliding to the video option and tapping the lightning bolt to activate the flash. Aggressively bright against the dull yellow of the overhead lights.

“Be careful,” Red told him as Arthur pressed the red record button, and the beep it made cut right through her, joining the shiver up her back.

Arthur nodded at Simon, who tucked himself up onto the chair to make room for him, pulling back the corner flap of the suitcase. The gap was small, but enough for Arthur to snake his hand and phone through. He reached forward, losing half his arm to the outside world and the unknown beyond.

“Hello.”

Simon sucked in a nervous breath and Arthur flinched, gritting his teeth. The sleeve of his arm shifted and wrinkled around the hinge of his elbow as he moved the wrist beyond, recording a full arc of outside. Red watched his face as he did, the tension in his upper lip, the focus in his eyes, and she reasoned that if she didn’t think about the red dot then it couldn’t possibly take his arm, or any other part of him. But didn’t that count as thinking of it?

“Okay,” Arthur said, his face unfurrowing as he drew his arm back inside the RV, quickly, clumsily. He tapped his thumb to the screen to stop the recording. Simon pressed the duct tape back in place and Red leaned across the back of the chair to see the video on Arthur’s screen. Oliver did the same, watching over Arthur’s shoulder.

The video began with a shaky view of the dashboard, clipping the end of Red’s voice as she told him to be careful. It moved over, catching Simon as he pulled his legs up out of the way, glancing back, eyes on a point above the camera. A close-up of Simon’s fingers as they bent into ridges, pulling the suitcase aside. The screen zoomed in on the black hole, breaking that barrier between out there and in here as it moved through into the total darkness of outside, the air lit by the ghostly glow of the phone. There was nothing out there, nothingthey could see, until the view shifted down and the flash reached the road, picking out stones and pieces of glass.

“Hello,” the voice repeated from ninety seconds ago, through the recording.

The shot juddered and then continued, swinging around to the right, the white light reflecting in the driver’s-side mirror.

“There!” Simon pointed at the screen.

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