Near the Bone by Christina Henry (ebook reader color screen txt) 📗

might disturb Jen if she got in the bed with her. And was it really safe to go to sleep? She didn’t know if they should let down their guard so completely. Anything might happen while they slept.

Anything might happen, but anything might happen even if you’re awake. He’s right—you’re dead on your feet and the only way you’re going to get off this mountain is if you rest. You don’t have the energy to walk three feet right now, much less a day or more.

“Jen won’t care, if that’s what you’re worried about,” C.P. said, waving his hand. “You’ll probably help keep her warm, to be honest. Let’s check and see how she’s doing, anyway.”

Mattie opened the door to the bedroom. The room seemed very chilly compared to the main room where the fire burned.

“Maybe we should leave this door open now that the front window is covered, huh?” C.P. said. “It’s freezing in here.”

The light from the main room cast just enough illumination for her to see the lump that was Jen on the bed. She didn’t seem to have moved at all. Her face seemed unnaturally still to Mattie.

What if she died? What if she died right there in bed while we ate grilled cheese sandwiches on the other side of the door?

C.P. entered behind her, crowding her as always, and Mattie moved to one side. He crossed to the bed and put his hand on Jen’s forehead.

“She’s not quite as cold as she was, and she doesn’t seem to have a fever. I wish I knew what was wrong with her.” He reached under the blanket and pulled out Jen’s arm so he could feel her wrist. “Her pulse is slow. Like, super-slow. She is a running nut so maybe it’s just that her resting heart rate is low but I don’t know. What if she had a heart attack or a stroke or something? That’s crazy, right? More likely she’s just in shock and she just shut down. I mean, between that guy chasing us with the gun and the cryptid and Griffin and everything . . . it’s a lot. Plus her leg got caught in the trap. Her brain might have just been on overload.”

Mattie felt a surge of resentment. She, too, had been terrorized by the monster and she’d been strangled by her husband and she’d been chased through the woods. And it wasn’t even the first time these things had happened to her. Why didn’t she get to faint and let someone else cope with all the horrors? Why did she have to keep pulling herself up and pushing on?

The resentment was almost immediately crushed beneath the weight of shame—shame that she would feel that way, shame that she would blame Jen for something she couldn’t help.

But Mattie was worried about what they would do in the morning if Jen still wasn’t moving and functioning. They didn’t know if William was still alive, but if he was, he would certainly chase them. And the creature would, too. They would never escape if they tried to drag Jen between them, and Mattie didn’t think C.P. would be willing to leave herself and Jen behind in the cabin while he went for help.

He might leave you behind. You’re nobody to him, and he made it clear that the only reason he helped was because of Griffin. He wouldn’t leave Jen, even if it’s more practical for him to go for help and return later.

What would happen in the morning would happen. Mattie needed to stop worrying about it and sleep. Maybe Jen would wake up, refreshed and ready to run. Maybe William would be dead, and Mattie would have one less fear.

“Well,” C.P. said. He said this often, Mattie noticed. He filled in empty spaces with words that had no purpose. “I guess I’ll go pitch my tent by the fire. Seems kind of unfair. It’s so much warmer out there. But you guys will be more comfortable in the bed, right? If you’d rather sleep by the fire I could climb in with Jen.”

Mattie must have looked as appalled as she felt, because C.P. laughed.

“I bet your religion says men shouldn’t sleep with women who aren’t their wives or something, right? It’s not like that. We’re just friends. We’ve slept in the same tent more times than I can count.”

It did seem strange to Mattie, very strange, but she pushed back against the strangeness because she knew this was something that William had taught her and everything William taught her was a lie.

“I . . . think . . . it . . . would . . . be . . . better . . . if . . . you . . .” Mattie gestured toward the bed.

“Are you sure?” C.P. asked. “I’m not going to lie, the couch didn’t look long enough for my legs, even if the fire is out there.”

Mattie nodded. This was preferable. C.P. said Jen wouldn’t mind but Mattie had a lot of trouble reconciling herself to the idea of sleeping next to a stranger. And this way C.P. could monitor his friend. Mattie suspected that if he slept in the main room he would be in and out of the bedroom several times, checking on Jen.

C.P. started pulling off his coat and boots and Mattie left the room quickly. She didn’t know if he would strip down to his underwear or not and she wasn’t comfortable staying in the same room if he did.

“Leave the door open,” he called after her

She wanted to take off her own heavy skirts and petticoats and change into a nightgown, but she heard the rustle of C.P. settling into the bed and decided not to go back in to get her night things. She hadn’t taken off her coat since they’d entered the cabin, though, so she put it away and then crouched in front of the couch, fairly certain that nobody would be able to see her from the bedroom. She slid her petticoats off so she just wore a wool skirt and stockings and her heavy sweater. Then she stoked the fire, adding wood