Part 22 (1/2)
His lower lip started to tremble. He flapped his hand by his ear again. It almost sounded as if he was humming.
”Fletcher?”
He pointed to the ground. ”We were here. Me and Adam.”
Avery's palms went clammy against the notebook in her hand. ”Go on.”
”He's bad, Avery. He's really, really bad.” He c.o.c.ked his head, eyes still flas.h.i.+ng primitively, and pressed his finger against his lips. ”He's probably listening right now.”
”Who's listening? Who are you talking about?”
It sounded like Fletcher said ”Adam.” But before she could ask, he reached out and gripped Avery by her wrist, yanking her along with him deeper into the gully. Enormous redwoods were all around them, branches crosshatched over their heads and blocking out the sunlight. The deep pine scent was claustrophobic. Avery dug in her heels.
”Stop it, Fletch. You know that Adam is dead.”
Fletcher looked at her. He blinked. ”He had to.”
She pulled her arms free. ”He had to what?”
”Die, Avery. Adam had to die.”
Ice water exploded in Avery's veins. ”Who said he had to die?”
Fletcher took another step toward her. Avery could smell him, the clean scent of detergent now smothered by sweat and dirt. He leaned close, his lips brus.h.i.+ng against her ear. ”They did.”
Avery's heart slammed against her ribs. ”Who are they?”
Fletcher licked his lips. ”Do you miss your mom, Avery?”
The air went still.
”You already asked me that.”
He smiled, a toothy, easy smile that shot terror through her. ”My mom is always watching me.”
He turned and began walking down the trail, winding deeper into the woods.
”Hey, Fletch, let's just-”
Fletcher paused and kicked at a pinecone at the edge of the trail. ”My mom is always watching me, Avery. I think...I think she does it for them.”
”That's normal, Fletch. My dad watches me like a hawk.”
Fletcher c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. ”Does he?”
”Yeah.” Avery knew it was a lie but suddenly she felt exposed, felt the need to cover herself. She wasn't exactly regretting coming out here with Fletcher, but she was no longer excited about it either.
”I think your father watches everyone.” Another turn, another few feet into the forest. ”He doesn't pay that much attention to you. He wasn't even there that night.”
”What night?”
”The night all your windows were opened.”
”He was working.”
”He wasn't there to see the way you looked when you came down the stairs.” He dragged his tongue over his lower lip, smiling faintly. His eyes were distant, like he was seeing something other than the trees around them. ”You looked like one of those cops on TV.” He mimed holding a gun close to his chest, the way she had held her flashlight, as he sidestepped down a grade. ”You looked so beautiful.”
Fletcher locked his gaze on Avery. She s.h.i.+vered. ”You were there?”
He pressed a finger against her pursed lips and shushed her. ”They were there.”
”Who are they?” Avery said, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice. ”You're scaring me, Fletcher. Who are they and why did they want Adam to die and...and...”-her voice faltered even as she tried to pump in false bravado-”why were they at my house? How did they get in?”
Fletcher leaned close to Avery. ”I let them in.”
Fletcher didn't want to be in the forest. He'd thought he would be able to remember things, but the same fingers of darkness had reached out to him the second he set foot on the trail. They inched closer. But he couldn't let Avery see...
He stomped down the whispers as best he could, but even then they reached back for him. One voice at first, then another, then the one he couldn't stand: Adam's. Adam's was soft. Adam's was sinister.
”Fletcher...” It was back again, hissing in his ear. ”You remember what happened. You remember what happened out here... You remember what you did...”
”No, I don't,” he forced out between gritted teeth.
Avery stopped walking. ”Did you say something?”
Fletcher ignored Avery. The throbbing in his head matched the rise and fall of Adam's whispered voice. He swatted as if the voice was a gnat in his ear and it laughed, enjoying toying with him.
Adam's voice lured him farther and farther down the trail until the sunlight became mottled and spa.r.s.e, blotted out by the canopy of old-growth trees knitted together more the deeper they went.
Avery kept talking, telling Fletcher she wanted to go back. He did too, but Adam's voice-and something else-compelled him to keep moving. Maybe inside the forest he could find peace. Maybe if he went deep enough, they would leave him alone. The temperature started to drop and Avery wanted to know about them again. Fletcher ignored her and kept moving.
Avery had her phone out, holding it up until a few meager bars populated the screen. ”I'm going to call my dad. He can send his guys in here and they can walk with you.”
Fletcher turned, his eyes wild, his lips twisted into a snarl. He was on Avery in a heartbeat, his hand knocking the phone from hers.
”No!”
The phone sailed out of her hand, skittering down the ridge and disappearing somewhere on the forest floor.
”What did you do that for?”
”You can't call him! He's going to send me away. You're going to ask him to send me away.”
Fletcher's face was a deep red and sweat raced over his brow. He dug both hands into his hair and gripped, baring his teeth. ”I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy!”
Avery's bottom lip started to tremble.