Page 39 of Chalk Outline
I scan the garden, and when I spot Jason’s glare, I wave at him, feeling all happy and cheerful. With his arms crossed, he stands tall and doesn’t bother to wave back.
He snaps his head to the side, staring into the deep forest as the sound of an earth-shuddering growl quickly catches his attention.
“Stay inside.”
“What was that?” I shout, scanning the space between the trees before glancing back at Jason, but he’s gone.
Crap!
I dash downstairs to the basement, grab a rifle, and pop open the ammunition box. After loading a magazine, I take an extra one and stow it in my thigh bag as I head out the door.
The atmosphere feels like a loaded gun out of plain sight. This eerily silent and unsettling forest feels like it came straight from my drawings. The sounds I heard just moments ago are now gone.
I take a few steps forward and survey the area.
My fingers dig into my pocket for my knife, hoping Jason put it back inside on the way here.
I exhale a sigh of relief.
He did.
I always carry it with me. It’s special.
A deep growl disrupts the silence once more, leaving me only with the sound of my pounding heart as it fades away. I press the butt of the rifle against my shoulder and cock it. Peeking one eye open through the riflescope aimed at the trees, I remain on high alert, watching and waiting.
“I told you to stay inside.”
I startle at the voice behind me and jump, sending my elbow into his ribs, but Jason blocks my move and grabs my wrist. As he shoves me back inside the tower, I catch a glimpse of the alarm bells in his eyes before he slams the door shut behind me.
The growls grow louder and closer.
“What is that thing?” I shout, smacking the door with my fist.
“The bear I mentioned earlier,” he replies calmly, with no trace of panic in his voice. “Stay inside. I’ll take care of it.”
“Jason,” I call out. “Jason!”
No response.
My gut tells me to go after him, but I have no idea what I’m up against, and he probably knows the forest like the back of his hand. He should leave before it’s too late anyway. There’s probably a secret getaway.
He can take care of himself.
He is not my responsibility.
Acid whisks in my stomach. Even in my thoughts, it sounds wrong.
I return upstairs and collapse onto the bed. Sifting through my backpack, I spread out the notes I collected on the mattress, realizing I had left the key on the bed, but I didn’t hear the door shut behind me when I stepped outside.He must have held it open.
Putting it around my neck, I tuck it inside my shirt.
I would have been stuck outside the tower if he hadn’t been there.
I pull the scrunched paper I found at the party out of my pocket to compare the handwriting with the notes—they all match—and I huff in annoyance.
Did anyone else stand out to me at the party besides Jason?
The creepy police officer and the bunny.
