Page 76 of Five Survive

“I need to check neither of them is wearing a wire,” he said.

“Oh, come on,” Simon interjected. “This is turning intoLord of the Fucking Flies.We’re going to end up killing each other, forget about the sniper.”

“I’m not wearing a wire,” Red said, tucking her arms over each other to protect her chest, walkie-talkie purring in her armpit.

“Great, prove it.”

“Oliver!” Reyna hissed.

“She and Arthur came over when Maddy and I were talking about the note. You and Simon were by the door. So if there’s a listening device we still haven’t found, it’s on one of those two.”

“Or Maddy,” Simon said, hysterical to the point of almost smiling. “Or you. Does it not count if you’re a Lavoy?” He slapped his arms down to the side of his legs. Simon got it.

“You’re taking this too far,” Arthur said, shaking his head, taking a step in front of Red, almost like he was blocking her from Oliver. Abarricade. “We all need to step back and take a breather. Everyone wants to get out of here, so let’s think about what the sniper has actually asked us todo.”

“Why won’t you do it, then?” Oliver glared. “If you have nothing to hide.”

“Okay, fine, see.” Arthur grabbed the hem of his baseball shirt and pulled it up over his chest, the muscles in his bare back heaving and bunching as he did. “See, nothing. This is getting out of hand.” He dropped his shirt.

“Now Red.”

“No.” There was a growl to Arthur’s voice now. “She does not haveto.”

“I’ll do it too. Look.” Oliver stepped forward, fingers moving quickly down the buttons of his shirt. He reached the bottom and pulled it open, covering his arms like wings. There was nothing on his chest, nothing but the sharp lines of his abdomen. “See. I don’t have any secrets. I’m clean.” He dipped his head at Red, redoing his buttons. “Your turn.”

She didn’t want to. Of course she didn’t want to. But she also didn’t want the others to think she was hiding anything. That would be worse.

“Fine.” She gritted her teeth. Her shirt was loose enough that she didn’t have to undo it. She gripped the ends, walkie-talkie still in hand, and pulled her shirt up over her bra, flashing the pale skin of her chest and stomach to the rest of the group. She didn’t have any secrets either, not on her skin at least. Arthur didn’t look; Red saw that. He must not like her like that after all.

Red dropped her shirt, tucking the front tails into her jeans. “Are we done now?”

“I’m sorry, Red,” Reyna said quietly, like it was somehow her fault.

“No wires,” Simon said, a jagged edge to his voice as he smoothed down his own shirt. “No listening devices. Can we move on, now?”

“Not yet.” Oliver shook his head. “Just because there’s no wire, doesn’t mean someone here isn’t somehow communicating with him outside.”

“Oliver, come on,” Maddy pleaded. “No one here is working with the sniper. He would kill any of us. He killed that innocent couple.”

Oliver’s eyes were busy, working on some thought alone. Red dreaded to know what it was.

“Phones out,” Oliver said, striding to the kitchen and pulling out the bottom drawer, too hard, juddering against its hinges. He selected the biggest saucepan, with a matching glass lid, pulling it out as the other pans shifted and clattered around it. “Come on, I said phones out, everyone. We’re going to seal them all in here.” He raised the pan.

“There’s no signal,” Simon said. His phone was out, but his hand tightened around it, like he didn’t want to let it go. “How could any of us be communicating with the shooter without a signal?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver said, brandishing the pan. “Maybe there’s still a way to communicate, some kind of app. Or maybe one of them has been hacked and is listening to us. Either way, if you want me to trust any of you again”—his eyes flickered and it was obvious which half of the RV he was talking about—“we are shutting our phones away. All of us. It’s not a request.”

To prove the point, Oliver pulled his phone out of his back pocket and dropped it inside the saucepan with a dull thud.

“Reyna?” He held the pan out to her. She nodded, not returning his gaze, but she pulled out her phone and placed it inside the pan, on top of his.

Maddy stepped up, dropping hers inside next.

“Simon.”

Not a request.

“This is fucking stupid,” Simon said, taking two angry steps toward Oliver, letting go of his phone, the device sliding against the others to find its own space.

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