The Missing - Kiersten Modglin (the reading strategies book TXT) 📗

boomed, stepping out from the tree line, the shotgun slung over his shoulder. His smile was almost antagonistic.

“Nothing,” I said, standing up. “Just trying to cool off.”

He waited, as if he expected us to say more.

“We ready?” Noah asked, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Let’s go,” James said as Ava reappeared from the forest too, the pistol held firmly in her palm. I swallowed, a chill running over me as I picked up both machetes.

“Let’s go.” I hoped they hadn’t heard the tremble in my voice.

Chapter Twenty

It was late afternoon before we arrived at the cliff house. We’d come across a dirt path that led straight to the door, and I had to wonder how often the path was traveled. There was no grass growing up through the dirt, so I had to believe it was at least frequented occasionally.

The T-shirt I was wearing had been drenched through with sweat, its dingy cotton clinging to my body with a vengeance. Ava kept a distance from me, so different than before, and James seemed to play the buffer, holding her hand and keeping her close, but occasionally casting a glance back toward Noah and me to make sure we hadn’t wandered off.

Something had changed—between them, and between us. Perhaps it was just the loss of Harry. Maybe he had been the glue holding us all together. Maybe we were all just trying to recover, trying to hang on however we could.

But that wasn’t it. There was more, at least.

I felt it in my bones. Ava wasn’t herself. The bubbly girl I’d gotten to know, who I’d cared about, who I’d considered a friend…

I looked to Noah, wondering if he felt the tension as strongly as I did. If he still believed it would be us versus them. I didn’t want it to be. When he’d said it, I thought he was being ridiculous, but now, I just didn’t know.

Up close, the door was larger than I’d expected. It was made of a solid, rusty metal with a wheel in the center that looked as if it might not have been turned in decades. I wondered, briefly, if we’d been wrong. The smoke wasn’t going anymore, and the door could’ve led to anything. There was no guarantee it was even inhabitable, let alone actually housed someone.

But I hadn’t imagined the woman. Of that, I was sure. She was real, and she was somewhere on the island. Maybe just steps from me.

“What do we do now?” I asked, waiting for James to tell us his master plan.

He looked around, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. He wiped the sweat from his brow and dried his hand on the side of his shorts. When he moved toward the door, his hands outstretched, I gasped. He connected with the wheel, attempting to turn it.

“Wait—” I tried to stop him, but it was too late. He shoved it with a heavy groan, but the wheel didn’t budge.

He grunted, stepping away and dusting his hands, the palms now painted burnt orange from the rust. “It’s locked anyway.” He sniffled, dusting his hands again. “Here, you knock on the door, and we’ll all be ready,” he said, staring at me.

“Wha—”

“Whoa, hey, no,” Noah said quickly, interrupting my own protest. “Like hell are we letting her knock on the door.”

If we were back home, I would’ve said I didn’t need him to let me do anything, thankyouverymuch, but for once, I was thankful for him speaking for me.

“She’s the only one who doesn’t have a gun.” James lifted his gun, pointing it at the door. “Whenever they answer, we’ll have our guns on them.”

“Whoever is in there, they gave us these guns, James. Do you honestly believe they gave us their entire supply of weapons? That they don’t have just as many, if not more? This place is elaborate. It’s well hidden. They’re watching us somehow… There’s no way whoever lives here isn’t protected.”

“We’ll just have to take our chances. This is the only way in.” He tipped his gun toward the door again. “Come on, we’re wasting time.”

“What are we going to say when they answer?” I asked, begging him to see reason. “We can’t just barge in. Please think this through.”

“They haven’t hurt us yet, okay? If they wanted to kill us, they would’ve done it already. They have to be willing to see reason. They have to agree to a sit down and…a discussion.” He was thinking on his feet, something I didn’t think he was particularly good at. “We can make them see reason. Negotiate.”

“With what?” Noah asked, pleading with him now rather than his usual sarcastic tone. “Sticks and coconuts? We have nothing to offer them. We need to think about this before we act. We’re not just sending her to knock on the door without a plan. We’re here. We made it. We found it. What’s next?” He looked at Ava, then at me. “Anyone have any ideas?”

“Ahhh, we don’t have time for this,” James groaned, rushing toward the door with his hand outstretched. His fist connected with the heavy metal with a loud thwomp, thwomp, thwomp.

“What the fuck, man?” Noah asked as James darted backward, never turning away from the door, his gun held awkwardly but at the ready nonetheless.

Everyone brought their weapons up, and I dropped one of the machetes, trying to dry my sweaty palms so I wouldn’t lose the one that remained. My heart thundered in my chest, making my ears hot and my vision tunnel.

This was it.

We were going to meet the woman.

We were going to find out why we were there.

Seconds passed, feeling like hours, and we waited, our weapons unwavering. I watched the wheel on the door for the slightest movement, knowing that when it began to turn, I’d need to be at my best. Prepared to duck or run or hide at a moment’s notice.

Noah shifted a half step, so he was in front of me only slightly. The movement was barely