Chapter Text
After
August 23rd - 5:03
The first thing Nick becomes aware of again, is pain. Pain everywhere, from his toes to the crown of his head and back again. He sucks in a breath and starts coughing-- there's something in his mouth. He rolls over, painfully, slowly, and spits. Spits again. It's blood. He's been bashed in the face more than a few times to know what it tastes like, metallic and thick. His mouth is coated in it. And he can smell it. It's so strong he can smell the iron in it. He coughs again, and his stomach clenches like an angry fist. And the first memory of the night comes back to him.
Hunger. Terrible, burning hunger. Gnawing at him, growing louder and more insistent, until he was nothing BUT the hunger. Making his mouth water at the mere smell of--
Fuck.
He rubs a hand over his throbbing forehead and sits up, grimacing. He smears something sticky all over his skin and he finally opens his eyes all the way.
Oh. Oh fuck.
That explains the smell.
He's coated in blood. Plastered in it. All over his skin, his hair is matted with it. His shirt barely clings to him in shreds. His pants are gone and his underwear-- he's pretty sure if he stands up he'll just be out there in the breeze.
He pulls his knees to his chest and rests his forehead on them. Dirt is clinging to him in muddy lumpy patches along the back of his legs, and he shivers in the cool of the dawn morning. New York summers are hot and muggy, leaving the air feeling like swimming in soup, but fall is already a promise in the chill of this morning. Or maybe it's the terrible cold in the pit of Nick's stomach. He's struggling to remember the night before.
the brush of Abi's lips, the fact that she tasted ever so slightly of the watermelon she'd eaten and the painful thumping of his heart as he finally, finally had gotten what he wanted, that she liked *him* of all people--then the ripping burning pain of the thing with the teeth and the claws and the wretched smell of rot and wet fur and death-- shivering and bleeding in front of the campfire-- "Dude, that's infection!" "--cut off his leg?" --he could feel it burning, throbbing as it spread out from his wound and it made him light-headed and dizzy and he thought about saying something around the ringing in his ears but then as suddenly as it had come on him it had stopped-- and then he was hungry.
He'd been hungry. Hungry like after his swim meets. Where he could eat an entire stack of pancakes and still snarf down a cheeseburger afterward because he needed the carbs and the calories but this was nothing compared to that. Hungry and achy and cold and Abi was there. Abi who was so concerned and who had tried to save him but had run off-- did she like him? Did she really like him? He was so hungry--- so hungry it made him angry, his cousin Sal said he got Hangry but that was because Sal was a dickhead of biblical proportions and his Nonna said he could piss off the pope-- but fuck he had gotten angry. Angry that he had gotten to kiss Abi. Finally after putting up with a summer full of everyone's shit and now everything had gone to shit. And that man had come after her and he'd just reacted and almost strangled him, pulled him up with one hand and dropped him like he was nothing and terror had pushed up his throat like he was going to be sick because what the fuck, man? But they'd had no time and-- and--
Everything gets so blurry after that. Nick puts his hands to his ears like he can block out the rest but it's there.
The hunger that overwhelmed everything. Pulsed within him. How his body had started to hurt again. Fingers and muscles and joints and his teeth. How he could smell the watermelon on Abi again. Could smell more than that. How he was hurting. How he wanted to bury himself in her smell. Cling to that crumb of comfort. She had smelled so good. So good.
Then she threw him in the water. And instead of the water being a friend. The place that had kept him safe from the bullies and the shitty stepdads and the even shittier cousins and being a million miles away from home. It burned. It hurt. It hurt so bad. And it made him want to hurt. He was going to hurt her. He liked her and she hurt him and he was going to hurt her-- he was going to rip her to fucking pieces. He was going to taste her blood and it was going to be hot and steaming and he was not going to be so hungry and so cold any more--
Nick squeezes his eyes tighter, pressing his hands to the sides of his head.
He remembers her shooting. He remembers having a second to think-- "Oh thank God" and then pain. Pain like he was being ripped out of this world. And then darkness.
And now here, starkers, covered in blood in the woods. Nick looks up at the orange light coming through the trees, and his eyes sting from exhausted tears. His teeth chatter from the cold morning, and the overwhelming sensation that there is a big black hole in his memory. That for those godawful few moments he wanted to tear into Abi like she was a ripe plum. His stomach squeezes painfully-- the smell of blood becoming to much for him, and he rolls over and retches, his empty stomach bringing up nothing but spit and bile.
God, who's blood is this anyway? And that sets off another round of retching.
He needs to get up and get moving. He needs to get clean and warm and he needs to find out what happened the night before. If-- anyone else had--
Nick puts a hand to his mouth and gags one last time.
"Up and at 'em mate," he can hear his swim coach in his head. "Get up, only way out is forward, 'atta boy."
Nick forces himself to stand, the blood is going tacky and mud and refuse from the forest floor is clinging to his back and legs. Thank God it's too early for flies yet, or he'd be brekkie for sure.
His mind shows him a picture of Abi, open-eyed and staring at nothing, face bloodied and he shuts his eyes and shakes his head. No, no, don't go there. Do not go there. Not now.
He adjusts what remains of his underwear so that both his testicles are at least covered and takes a deep breath.
"Right. Where the fuck am I?"
---
He hears Jacob before he sees him. Crashing around like an overgrown Pitbull, all the muscle and somehow twice as dumb is how Emma had affectionately described him. And Jacob had eaten it up. Emma had treated him like crap all summer and Jacob had followed her around like-- well, like an exceptionally stupid puppy. It's all Nick can think about when a nearly naked Jacob barrels into him.
"Nick! Holy fuck! Nick! Oh God, I'm so glad to see you! Fuck bro! It's been the craziest nights of my life bro! Like, these rednecks got a hold of me, and they strung me up and wiped all this shitty, stinky blood on me and then I like, *lose* Emma man, like *twice* and oh man then I get caught in a beartrap and I think I broke my ankle and they stuck me in a cage with a--a--fucking monster bro and then Ryan came and let me out and I've just been wandering around and oh thank fuck I found you--" somehow Jacob manages this all in one breath.
Nick is still too shellshocked to say anything to Jacob, just takes in that he's still in his underwear with blood on his face that *reeks* of weeks-old death, just like he'd been when he'd come crashing back to the campfire where they'd taken him when he'd first been wounded, a million years ago.
"Fuck, dude, what the fuck bro," Jacob doubles over, panting, trying to catch his breath.
What the fuck indeed.
Nick hugs his arms around himself, shivering, his eyes wide in his bloodied face.
It takes another few moments for Jacob to fully register what's in front of him--
"Holy fuck dude! What the fuck happened to you! You're like... totally fucking covered in blood! The last time I saw you you'd just had your leg ripped open-- how the fuck are you *standing*?"
"I--I don't know," Nick manages. "I don't know. I-I don't remember a lot of last night--" just want to rip her to goddamn pieces. "Where is everyone?"
"Nick--holy shit you don't remember," Jacob grabs onto Nick's shoulders and another shock goes through Nick. He feels filthy and being touched-- by anyone is the last thing he wants in the entire world.
"I was caged up with a monster, the rednecks? They had these cages under their house and they stuck me in one and there was this-- this fucking thing in the other. It was-- God I don't even know."
"Like something unholy," Nick finished for him. That smelled of death, that had been nothing but teeth and claws and hunger-- and something is brushing at the back of Nick's mind and he's not wanting to look directly at it. because he's Not-There Nick and Not-There Nick is a coward above all else.
Not-There Nick disappears when his old D&D buddies are getting the piss kicked out of them since he's now safe because he grew a foot in one summer and joined the swim team. Not-There Nick keeps his mouth shut when his teammates say racist shit about the Aboriginal kid on the rival team-- "But not you, Nick, you don't count of course." Never mind his mother's a Maori from New Zealand and that counts for a hell of a lot but he doesn't want to make trouble so he says nothing. No one calls him a Wog to his face anymore, but he hears it behind his back and never says anything. Never says a word because of all the bashings he'd had when he fought back. And the cold, sour disappointment when he got home because of his Stepfather. Because of all the times he got his face bashed in and could never give a punch back. His stepfather, the blokiest of the blokes. Who had a shy little twit of a stepson that he didn't even want. Can't throw the footy around. Can't drink a beer without making a face. Thank God he finally had some kids of his own to replace that defective little twerp. And Nick does the best to not make problems. To stay out of the way. He swallows everything. He's Not-There Nick. That's what his Nonna calls him. "Where's my Niccolo? Where's my sweet baby boy? Where'd he go? He's not there anymore. He's Not-there Nick."
"Yeah," Jacob's nodding. "Yeah, I mean you saw it. Christ, it ripped the shit out of you," Jacob's eyes flick to Nick's bare leg, still sticky with blood. But there are no wounds under the blood. Those healed. There's a whining in the back of Nick's head. Something very terrible swam just under the surface of his consciousness, and he very desperately did not want to look.
"Any idea about-- what it was? Did the rednecks-- did they say anything?" Nick says, hugging his arms tighter to himself.
"Not really," Jacob rubs his face, the dried blood flaking off in brown chips. "But-- wait, Ryan and this other chick came in. They're the ones who let me out."
"Other... chick?"
"Yeah, she was like, all decked out like she was Rambo or something. They kept saying they were going to have to kill Chris Hackett. That the thing in the cage next to me might be Chris Hackett. Or-- or--" Jacob goes pale and steps away from him. "Oh fuck."
"Or what?" Nick says, his heart starting to pound at the look of fear in Jacob's face.
"Or it could be *you*."
"Me?" the world underneath Nick's feet is tilting and he has the very terrible sensation that when Jacob is done talking nothing will ever be okay again. Like he's six years old and his mother has taken them out for chocolate ice creams to tell him his father's business trip has become permanent and he's not coming home again. He's gone back to the US and he's staying there.
"Dude, oh dude. Dude dude dude dude DUDE," Jacob turns away from him, fists clenched. "Oh my fucking GOD Dude."
"Jacob," Nick snaps, his patience fraying.
"I heard something else, those fucking rednecks? They were arguing upstairs. And I heard them say," he makes a face. Pauses.
"Jake."
"They were talking about finding the werewolf who did this. That they may have found the werewolf who did this and they were gonna find him and kill him. Fuck dude. The thing that got you in the woods was a werewolf."
Nick takes a step back like he's been slapped. Werewolf..
That's. No. That's fucking insane.
The moon had been so full last night. So big and beautiful. The thing that had torn through him had been like nothing he'd ever seen before--had been so unnatural-- so wrong. And everything that had happened afterwards-- the wounds that closed up, the infection that spread inside him, that he hid from his friends what had made him do that? why? that was so stupid the anger, the unnatural strength.
The hunger. Like he was going to tear the world in two just to satiate it.
And Abi. Oh god what he was going to do to Abi.
Nick's skin goes ashy under it's coating of blood. He thinks he's going to be sick again.
"Fuck me dead," Nick mutters.
"Fuck dude, fuck. FUCK! That was you in the cage next to me, wasn't it? You're a werewolf! You're a fucking werewolf!"
The ringing in Nick's ears is back. It's drowning out the pounding of his heart. You're a werewolf. You're a werewolf and almost killed the girl you liked. You probably did. There's so much blood all over him and there's not a scratch on him.
"Oh my God dude," Jacob says, putting his head in his hands. "Oh my God, what are we going to do?" he whines.
"Jacob--" Nick starts, but Jacob's on a tear.
"You're a fucking werewolf Nick! Shit dude! Why the fuck are you covered in blood? Who's blood is that man?"
The ringing in Nick's ears is so loud he can't hear himself think, and panic claws its way up his throat. He remembers the hunger. He remembers the anger. He remembers Abi with the gun and that tiny moment of crystal clarity that he's gifted with when the bullet slams into him, before he's yanked away from the world. OhmyfuckingGod Stop.
Run.
Then oblivion.
"JAKE! SHUT! UP!" and it's perhaps the loudest Nick has been in years. Certainly the loudest Jacob has ever heard him be.
Nick realizes at this moment, that he hates Jacob. That he'd hung his flag with Jacob because he'd admired the louder boy's ability to be so confident, but it was a façade that crumbled under the tiniest bit of pressure. Wasn't that what everyone wore around here, a façade? Dylan with his shitty jokes and Emma with her stupid influencer shit and him with his 'go with the flow' background fade. He'd liked Abi because she stood out. She was herself. Strike that, she was brave enough to be herself.
And now he was probably wearing her blood.
"Shut the fuck up, Jacob," Nick snarls, eyes severe in his bloody face.
And it's so vicious that Jacob actually snaps his mouth closed and takes a step back.
"Just shut the fucking hell up for once in your goddamn life," Nick says, and he's hugging himself and shivering-- though from the cold or the shock he can't tell which, and even though he's taller than Jacob the guy's got at least 75 pounds of brick-shithouse muscle on him, but Nick is so angry at him that he knows that he will knock his teeth down his throat if he says one more word.
"Jesus, sorry man. I'm--I'm sorry." Jacob says, holding up his hands.
"Just-- just shut up, for Christ's sake," Nick says.
"Look--ok, I'm sorry. It-it was the full moon last night and it's not the full moon now, and werewolves only happen on full moons so you're okay now. You'll be ok for a while. You're ok now," Jacob nods. Nick isn't sure if Jacob is trying to convince Nick or himself, and Jacob's reaching to touch him again-- to console him and he feels so completely vile that he steps out of reach of Jacob's hand.
"I'm sorry," Jacob says again, and his eyes are so big and so hurt that Nick feels bad for shouting at him. "I'm sorry, it's just that everything is so fucked up."
Nick squeezes his eyes shut. "Yeah," he finally says.
"Look, let's um. Let's go back to the lodge and get some clothes and we can find the others. We can regroup."
"Right," Nick says, and the shivering starts up again. "D'you know where we are?"
"I think," Jacob turns around. "I think we are somewhere around the hiking trails. So the cabins are that way--" Jacob points off to the right.
"Okay," Nick says. Suddenly he's exhausted again. Though enough time with Jacob could do that to a person normally. And he's beginning to feel like he has a full body sprain. Everything aches.
They start walking towards the direction of the cabins. "God, I'm going to need to be checked for ticks after this," Jacob mutters.
"Not it," Nick replies flatly.
---
Before.
Two Months Earlier.
It's the end of orientation week, and the perfect early summer evening. The sun's setting and the sky is shades of pink and orange and lavender, and all of the counselors are in the rickety old van on their way to what Mr. H had promises is "The best BBQ you've ever tasted! Bar none!" The returning counselors had perked up, this was a yearly tradition. Orientation week, just the counselors getting the ins and outs of camp and getting all of their safety training before the campers arrived the next week, capped off by dinner at The Hogfather in the nearby town of New Hamilton. If by nearby it meant a almost half-hour drive through the windy mountain roads, with brief patches of farmland and hills cut by powerlines as the only civilzation to be seen. Mr. H and his kids led the way in his truck, but they were some ways in the distance, their red tail lights appearing briefly as they crested hills or turned down forested paths. Every so often another car would pass by, but truly it felt like the end of the world here.
"Hey-hey, you guys wanna play hey cow?" Dylan pipes up from the back seat.
"What's 'hey cow?'" asks Jacob. He's planted himself next to Emma, the hottest of all the girls, if you asked Jacob, and you didn't, but he would tell you anyway. He's close, but not too close, and she seems to appreciate the attention he's been giving her. She's been laughing at all his jokes and looking and him through her lashes.
Abi's in the front seat next to Ryan, who's driving. Dylan is in the way back with his bunkmate, Nick, and in front of them is Kaitlyn, who claimed the whole seat to herself by stretching her legs across and giving anyone who so much as thought as perching next to her a look that spelled 'don't even think about it, bucko.' Not that Jacob or Emma would have bothered to stop the flirt train about to leave the station to hookupville, population them. Everyone had a bet going on when it would happen. Kaitlyn had it by the second week. Dylan had ten dollars by Sunday. Abi secretly knows she's already won because it happened last night outside hers and Emma's shared window, when Emma let Jacob french her and round base number two.
"Well, it's pretty complicated. You see that field of cows?" Dylan points.
"Yeah?"
"You roll the window down, you stick your head out the window, and you scream 'HEY COW!' really loud, and you get points for how many cows turn to look at you. The person with the most cows by the end of the ride wins."
Jacob beams. "That sounds awesome, quick, someone get a window!"
"We're not playing 'hey cow'" Ryan says from the driver's seat.
"Aw!" Jacob says.
"Somebody is a little sore because no cows like to look at him. Ever."
"I am not," Ryan says, turning around a sharp curve.
"It's amazing, it's like his voice is at a frequency that no cow can hear," Dylan continues.
"Ooh, like a dog whistle!" Jacob says.
"Like... the opposite of a dog whistle, actually," Dylan says, with a sympathetic head tilt. Jacob had demonstrated in the past week that while he was very, very enthusiastic at a lot of things, he was also very, very dumb. And, to Dylan's genuine delight, no one had ever bothered to explain that to him.
"Where are we anyway?" says Abi, lost in the scenery in front of them. It was just so beautiful here. Verdant hills and fields, smelling of hay and woods and the occasional whiff of cow. It was like something out of a fairy tale. It was going by too fast for Abi to really catch it in the sketchbook sitting at her feet, so she was doing her best to drink in, hold it tight for later. But without their phones there's no way of telling where any of them are. Ryan's driven the way to New Hamilton several times so he knows where they're going by heart. No need for a phone for him.
"Halfway between buttfuck and the ass crack of nowhere," says Emma, and smirks. She likes the rise she gets when she swears. 'Someone so pretty shouldn't have such a filthy mouth,' was a comment someone once left her, that made her up her 'Motherfuck' count exponentially. Well, on the tiktoks at least. On YouTube that meant demonetization so she had to get creative there.
"Just outside of New Hamilton," Ryan says. "Somewhere smack in the middle of Syracuse and Albany."
"Mallbany," Dylan corrects.
"Did you just call Albany Mallbany?" Kaitlyn turns to look at him.
"The only reason to go to Albany is the mall."
"Isn't Cooperstown somewhere around here?" asks Emma.
"It's about another half-hour south, so yeah," says Ryan.
"Aw yeah! Baseball hall of fame, who's in!" Jacob turns enthusiastically to the people behind him, who are staring blankly at him.
Kaitlyn turns and places a hand on the Australian's knee. "Nick, baseball is an American sport where men in funny pants hit a ball with a stick and then run around and touch bags with their shoes that have nails in them."
"Your primitive culture continues to amuse and fascinate me," Nick says, mock serious. "I wish to know more."
"Ok, Hey Cow's a bust, and we're not turning on the radio, because all that's out here is country, Jesus talk, and secret Jesus rock music."
"Secret Jesus rock music?" asks Abi.
"You know, where you turn to a station and you think it's actually pretty good rock music and then they start singing about Jesus and you realize it's a religious station and then you feel dirty that you liked it and have to change it really fast. And rip out the radio and then burn it. And yourself."
"Wow, such drama," says Emma.
"I take my music extremely seriously," says Dylan. "You'll be finding out soon enough. I have hours of curated tapes from Mr. H's collection all ready to unleash upon the unsuspecting hordes. Anyway! Second game. It's called, we're in the creepy-ass woods, it looks like a horror movie, who dies first?"
"What do you mean?" asks Nick.
"Like, look at this--" Dylan gestures. The sun had fully set and mist clung to the hills around them. Ryan had flicked the brights of the van on to see, it was so dark. "It's like, the perfect setting for one of those old-school horror movies. You know, a bunch of teenagers at camp and they had sex and now they have to die. And there's like, an order to which they die. Like, I'm the funny dude who knows things, so I die, but I won't die until near the end."
"Oh I know this one, I die first," Emma says. "Blonde. Big boobs. I'm dead in like ten minutes. Also like, my shirt gets ripped off for some reason?" Jacob's looking at her with his eyebrows raised. "These movies are so gross." Emma adds, and Jacob nods, but his mind hiccupped when Emma mentioned a missing shirt, so he's already lost the plot.
"Nope, gonna have to disagree with you there," Ryan says, rounding them around yet another curve. "I'm the black guy. I go first. In fact, I don't even know we're in a horror movie. I just know there's a missing cat."
"I dunno dude, the movies are getting pretty woke these days."
"We are talking about classic movie tropes here," Ryan says.
"Well, if we're going for classic then sure, it's you, then Emma, then," he closes one eye and waves his finger around. "Sorry Jacob, big dumb jock, next on the list."
Jacob makes a face. "I'm not dumb."
"Sure, honey," Dylan says, with real sympathy. "Abi-- let's see. Spunky. Brunette, I'm assuming under all the dye. Virginal-- for the sake of our movie," Dylan adds quickly. Abi is glad she's in the front seat so no one can see her blush. "Abi is the Final Girl."
"Oh, congrats Abi!" Emma says, reaching over and giving her a high-five.
"What about me, I'm a brunette!" Kaitlyn interjects.
"You're not a virgin," Dylan says with sympathy.
Kaitlyn shrugs with a clear 'what ya gonna do?' "Hey, you could be final girl, you're a virgin too!"
"You don't know that," Dylan says, eyes half-lidded.
Kaitlyn raises an eyebrow back at him.
"Shhhh, I'm a guy. These movies are sexist," Dylan mock-whispers. "Besides, you're way too competent for this movie. If you were the Final Girl you'd have the thing over in twenty minutes. No, boring, yawn. You leave to get help and then disappear for the rest of the movie."
"Aw that sucks," Kaitlyn makes a face.
"Either that or a gross and exploitive death scene because not only were these movies sexist, they were racist as fuck," Dylan says with a shrug.
"Getting help!" says Kaitlyn with a nod.
"What about Nick?" asks Abi, her eyes briefly flicking to him before skittering away again. He was so handsome it was hard to look at him very long without feeling embarrassed.
"Oh, he's the killer."
"What! Why me?"
"Think about it! No one suspects the pretty one!"
"I'm--I'm not the--pretty one--" Nick mumbles.
"There there, you're very pretty Nick, and that's ok," Kaitlyn says.
"Please don't encourage him," Nick says, putting his hands to his face. His neck is going red.
"Anyway, props to our secret psycho killer, the quiet *coughprettycough* one that no one suspects." Dylan puts a hand on Nick's shoulder, and Nick turns to stare at him.
"Don't touch me," he says.
"Aw, c'mon. We're bunk buddies. Bunkarinos. It's like being roommates but you know, heterosexual because I don't think you're one of the children of the sun."
"What?" says Nick.
"Is that even English?" says Kaitlyn.
"I'm trying to say, is that you're heterosexual, and that's ok. But if you wanted to, we could also make out."
"I'm good," Nick says.
"You sure? The water on this side of the fence is very nice."
Nick stares at Dylan.
"Seeecret lo-ho-hoo-hoovers," Dylan croons to Nick, who continues to stare back at him stonefaced.
"I'm killing you first," Nick finally says.
"I knew it!" Dylan fistpumps.
"Before the cat goes missing," he points.
"Yeees," says Ryan, flipping on the turn signal.
"Awww, I want to be the killer too!" Kaitlyn says.
"We can both be the killer," Nick says. "I'm not selfish."
"Yay, sharesies!" Kaitlyn reaches out and Nick clasps her hand, and they wave them back and forth.
They're interrupted by the van slowing and coming to a halt. They've come to a parking lot lit by strings of lightbulbs and a sign with a smiling pig in a chef's hat and apron, with "The Hogfather" written in bright blue font. Mr. Hackett and his two kids are already waiting out front.
"Hey gang!" he waves. "Hope you're hungry!" he calls.
"After that drive?" Jacob says, patting his belly. "Starved."
"Well, good, it's my treat. You've all done great work this week. So pick out anything you want. Except for you Dylan, you have to get something off the kid's menu," Mr. Hackett jokes.
"Oh, yay!" Dylan claps his hands. "Can you cut it for me too Dad?"
If you had asked any of them later, about that night. It was special. It was the first night where they all felt that summer had truly arrived. That the promise of something new and exciting awaited them. There were fireflies on the way back to camp, so many of them that they seemed like stars on the side of the road. None of them really talked on the way back, just stared out into the night. No matter what each of them was keeping inside, by the end of the summer, things were going to be different. Each of them could feel it.
---
After
August 23rd, 6:00
There is a circle of police cars and ambulances in front of the lodge. Every cop and EMT in the county must be here. Jacob stumbles forward, his limp getting more exaggerated-- either unconsciously or not-- and police and another EMT run to him while Nick hangs back, desperate. He needs to see-- he has to see who is here. Because if someone is missing. If she is missing he doesn't know what he'll do. Jump off the quarry. Drown himself in the lake. His heart is in his throat as his eyes flick across the faces in the clearing.
Dylan, blood smeared on his cheek, milk-pale. They've got him on a stretcher and already got IV bags in him. The adrenaline has probably worn off and now he has to get to the hospital, stat. Kaitlyn, even bloodier, gesturing to the cops, her face calm but she's also pale from shock. She's getting everything out now before she goes off to a corner to sob and throw up. There's a boy-- also unclothed, wrapped in an orange blanket. Paramedics are wiping blood from his face. He's staring off at nothing. It takes Nick a moment before he realizes it's Caleb Hackett, Mr. H's son. It's his sister Kaylee that was in the pool where Abi had thrown him--
Blood, God so much blood. Nick wipes a hand down his face, trying to wipe the image from his mind. He still doesn't see her. And his chest feels like there's something sharp stuck in it.
"Emma! Oh thank fuck you're here!" Jacob says loudly, and Nick turns and there's two figures sitting side by side on the doorway of the ambulance.
The blonde is answering a police officer's questions while her companion winces as a paramedic cleans her wounds, her red hair shining in the early morning light.
Abi.
Nick's whole body sags with relief.
She's alive. It's not her blood he's wearing. And now he hangs back, because all the awfulness of the night before comes rushing at him like a wave and he does not want to be seen. He wants to do his Disappearing Nick act. Wallpaper Nick. Nice Nick. Not-there Nick. Nick who didn't do any of the awful shit of last night Nick. Because he knows that as soon as he steps into the clearing everything is going to get very hard, and very shitty, and he is not sure he can handle that.
"C'mon boy. You've got it in 'yeh. Push through it!" There's coach, in the back of his head. Nick closes his eyes and swallows.
Nick's still working up the balls to announce his presence when Kaitlyn, sharp-eyed, eagle-eyed, ever perceptive Kaitlyn, turns her head and sees him, and claps a hand to her mouth. "Nick!" she yells. Like she's seen someone come back from the dead.
As one all the other counselor's heads turn.
"Nick!"
"Holy shit!"
"Nick!"
And he sees Abi, standing, staring at him, with an emotion he can't quite name. Is it relief? Upset? Fear? She looks like she might cry and he stares back at her, desperate.
"Abi!" he manages, but then the paramedics and the cops are on him, and the rest of the morning descends into chaos.