If We Survive The Night

Bad Service

Jaden

I can't stand this. The sight of Owen's hands under Casey's shirt, their mouths pressed together, the helpless look in Casey's eyes. I strain against the ropes that prevent me from getting to Owen and choking the life out of him. Despite his muscles, I'm still sure I'd easily tear him to pieces if I could get my hands on him. I can't, though. I can only watch and rattle my brain for some magic words that could help us. Combined with my pounding headache, it almost brings me to the point of passing out. I can't let that happen, though. Casey needs me. Seeing him in danger feels almost like physical pain.

Maybe Owen was right. Maybe I do have a crush on him.

"Leave him alone!" I yell at Owen. "Don't make this any worse. The police will be here any moment."

"Huh?" Still sitting on the bed, he turns to me.

"Yes. I've sent the recording to someone I know. When we got into the car, I did."

He frowns. "What recording?"

"I've recorded Jen's call. She said that we shouldn't go to the police. That her boyfriend will come pick us up." Behind Owen's back, Casey frowns, then tilts his head like a curious dog.

"She said the lawyer would come pick you up," says Owen. "I was right there with her when she talked to you."

I swallow. "Whatever. The moment they hear it, they'll know she had something to do with what happened. Once she's in hot water, she'll sell you right away, and they'll come after you. You better not make it any worse by killing us, or..." I pause, carefully choosing words. "Or hurting us in any way."

"A recording?" Owen says slowly, as if tasting the words. "It could pose a problem—if it exists, of course. On the other hand, it could also sound like crazy ramblings of a confused girl who's just lost her parents and is imagining conspiracies everywhere. She's smooth. She'll play it that way." He shrugs. "Also, there's no way to know that you've actually sent anyone that recording, as well as no proof that there even was a recording."

"You can check my phone."

"Your phone is not here, and you know it." Owen's unblinking gaze remains on me. "It was in your car when it burned down."

The thought of my phone being destroyed kind of hits surprisingly hard—I had so much of my life in there. My music, Mom's photos, the videos from my last Birthday party when we still lived together, the stuff I filmed while hanging out with friends. I shake my head, annoyed with my own shallowness. It doesn't matter. I can create new memories, but to do that, I must first survive this.

"There is a recording," I say, firmly. "You can take my word for it."

He hums thoughtfully and gets up from the bed. "All right, let's, for the sake of the argument, assume that you did record that phone call, and sent it to someone. Which brings us to the next question..." He walks over and stops in front of me. "To whom?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

He shrugs. "Because I will hurt you real bad if you don't? I mean, I had other activities on my mind, but you've managed to kill the mood, so..." He reaches out, and I flinch, but he only pats my head, a strangely friendly gesture. "Come on, start talking."

"I told you. The police will be here any minute. Don't make this any worse."

"Why would they come here? Nothing connects me to this cabin. I've never told anyone about it." He spreads his hands. "I could cut you both in pieces and bury you under the floorboards, and by the time the owners arrive in winter, there won't be any sign of you having been here, not even the smell. The gun is buried someplace else. The police uniform I've burned. You two are the last pieces of evidence." He eyes me for a moment. "But I'd still like to know who you sent it to. Should I get my knife?"

"He didn't send it to anyone," Casey says from the bed. I glare at him, and he makes big eyes at me, perhaps trying to convey that I should keep quiet. "I was with him the whole time. He didn't."

"I did," I tell Owen. "Don't listen to him. He's just trying to protect me."

"No! He's trying to protect me!" Casey shoots me another angry glance, but I ignore him. I must keep Owen's attention. Even if he hurts me trying to get me to talk, at least he won't be hurting Casey. I can buy him time.

Apparently, he's trying to do the same for me.

Owen crosses his hands on his chest and looks from me to Casey. Then, he chuckles.

"Okay, love birds," he says. "One of you is lying."

"He's lying," Casey says quickly. "There's no recording."

"Shut up." Owen rubs his face, then looks around the room. "I'll bring my knife now," he says, slowly, as if explaining the rules of a game. "And then you'll tell me all I need to know."

I hold his gaze, a sickening feeling spreading inside of me. I've been hurt in my life, I fought a lot as a kid, had been knocked out. Pain isn't something new to me. But I could always fight back, even when the odds were not in my favor. Now, all I can do is sit here, allowing him to do whatever he likes to me.

Still, better me than Casey. I'm tougher than him.

Owen begins to turn when his phone rings. He slips it out of his pocket, checks the screen, and answers.

"Yeah," he says. "What? Say again?" He checks the screen again, frowns, brings the phone back to his ear. "Say again?" He listens, then wrinkles his nose. I exchange glances with Casey.

"Bad connection," Owen says into the phone. "No! Service!" He takes a deep breath. "I'll call you back." He listens, then groans with exasperation and ends the call.

"The service is shit here," he tells us, almost apologetically. "The views are terrific, but no Internet, and the phone barely works. The downside of getting away from civilization." He nods at Casey. "That was your sister, by the way."

"What did she want?"

"Shit if I know." He shrugs. "Could only hear, like, every third word."

"She's probably trying to warn you that they've gotten the recording," I say. "That you're in trouble."

"Ah, you and your imaginary recording." He waves me away, then stares thoughtfully at his phone. "Still, I better find out what she wanted." He slides the phone into his back pocket again, pulls his car keys from the other one. "I'll take a short drive to the town, call her from there. I'll be back in no time, so behave yourselves." He walks over to the door, then turns and grins at us. "Don't go anywhere, okay?"