A shriek echoes behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see it: a black mass on two legs getting closer—closer—closer. I turn around and pump my arms faster. The torches on the crows’ nests come into view. I see the barricade. I’m almost there. I’m almost—

The blow to my back sends me sliding into the dirt, and the too-close-for-comfort growling makes me spin on my elbows. The black figure stands over me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the bat, but I don’t risk it. Anything can set a creep off, and I’m not at all in a winning position.

The creep leans down, its face inches from mine, its warm breath striking me in a disgusting odor of rancid milk. Dark drops dribble down its chin. Its chapped, blistered lips peel back into a snarl as it sniffs me. I close my eyes, ready to do the only thing I can: accept my fate.

The creep growls, and I hold my breath, but nothing happens. Instead, I hear footsteps get farther and farther away. When it’s quiet, I open my eyes.

The creep’s gone.

I sit up and look around, spotting nothing but trees.

It left me…alive?

My gut hardens, and I’m ready to vomit. “But why?”

I slowly grab Maisy’s bat and get to my feet, taking one last look before deciding running back to camp is a better idea than sticking around, wondering what the heck just happened.

When I make it, I pound on the gate. “Let me in!” I shout to the twins.

“Jay, is that you?” one of them asks. “Where’s Maisy?”

“Just let me in!” I punch the gate again.

After a moment that feels way too long, the gate rises. I squirm as I wait, looking over my shoulders. When there’s enough space, I scramble underneath.

“Lower it! Quick!”

The twins let their chains go, and the gate falls to the ground with a loud crash. In a matter of seconds, I’m swarmed by every kid in the camp. The younger ones push their way to the front while the older ones crowd the back, whispering. Gaped mouths and wide eyes put me in the spotlight.

“What’s going on?” A voice comes from the crowd.

The group of kids breaks, allowing a path. A tall, older boy with longer hair comes forward, his hands tucked inside the pocket patched onto the front of his sweatshirt. His frown disappears when he sees me.

“Jay?” he asks. “What happened?”

“There’s something out there, Caleb,” I say, panting, pointing my finger to the gate. “It got Maisy.”

Everyone gasps. A few of the little ones whimper and cry on queue, hugging the nearest older kid.

“What do you mean ‘it got Maisy’?” a small voice speaks and a short, lanky boy steps out. It’s Daryl, Maisy’s younger brother.

I choke back at the sight of his wide eyes and trembling lip. Before I say anything, Caleb gets between us.

Crouching down to put his hand on the little boy’s shoulder, he says, “Daryl, I need you to go to your tent, okay?” He flicks his head at the crowd, and an older girl with short, curly hair steps forward. “Jenny will take you, yeah?”

The girl nods and takes Daryl by the hand. The scared boy glances at me over his shoulder as they walk away, his pained expression striking me harder than this metal bat—

Oh!

“Daryl, wait!” I jog to meet them halfway. Handing the bat to Daryl, I say, “Maisy would’ve wanted you to have this.”

He takes the bat. With his small hands and weak arms, he can barely hold it up. Sniffling, he whispers, “This was our brother’s bat.” As he and Jenny turn away, I step back, sliding my hands into my coat pockets, tucking my chin to my chest.

Caleb stands and sighs. “As for the rest of you,” he says, “let’s get the little ones to bed. It’s late.” The older boys and girls start taking the young ones’ hands to lead them away. “Don’t forget to put out the fires,” Caleb adds.

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As everyone leaves, the only people left are Caleb, Kelly, and Shift Manager Kirsten. Oh, and me. I envy the kids heading to their tents. That rickety cot sounds like a blessing right about now, and I wouldn’t mind the knot in my back if it means I’d be asleep and not dealing with this.

“Jay, what happened out there?”

I bring my eyes from the crowd to Caleb, his bushy hair nearly hiding his brow. There’s no hiding his frown, though. I know it isn’t aimed at me, but I can’t help feeling like it should be. This is my fault, isn’t it?

I swallow hard. “Maisy and I were on Night Shift tonight,” I say. “She saw something, so we followed it to the forest—”

“To the forest?” Kirsten chimes in, flicking her ponytail behind her as if the mere mention of it offends her. “The Outlands are off limits!” She folds her arms. “Crawlies are out there. You didn’t touch any, did you? Did you breathe in the toxin?”

I shoot her a look. “Maisy wanted to make sure it wasn’t a creep. We didn’t go into the forest.” I throw up my hands. “And we didn’t touch the stupid plants! We didn’t even see any! We didn’t see anything until after we got to the forest.”

“Then where’s Maisy?” Kelly asks, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her messy bun is a step down from purposeful. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Kelly is—was—Maisy’s girlfriend. I wish I could spare her the pain she’s clearly in. Too bad there’s no going back now.

I sink into the soles of my boots, murmuring, “A creep took her.”

Kelly slaps a hand over her mouth.

“I thought you didn’t see anything.” Kirsten raises an eyebrow.

“We didn’t see anything,” I explain. “Not at first anyway. Then she was gone, and a creep was in the forest, so I—” I pause, feeling my cheeks burn. Shooting my eyes to the ground, not knowing whether or not I should tell the entire story, I whisper guiltily, “I ran.”

“So you left her?” Kirsten sounds horrified.

I snap my head up and catch myself in a staring contest with her, but before I say anything, Caleb extends his arms to either side. “Enough,” he growls. “We have more important things to deal with.” He lowers his arms. “Jay, is the creep still in the forest?”

I keep my eyes on Kirsten for a moment longer before turning to Caleb. “Yeah,” I say.

Caleb’s silent, his expression blank. The torchlights by the gate flicker, casting shadows across his face. We turn to him, expecting an answer that’ll make this go away, an answer that’ll bring Maisy back. I don’t think any of us is willing to accept there isn’t one.

After a moment, he finally speaks. “Kirsten, change the Lookouts. We need better eyes. You know who to put on.”

“Will do!” Kirsten says with a quick nod before scurrying off.

“Kelly, help keep the nursery tight all night. I don’t want any of the toddlers getting out. Sometimes they’re sneaky.”

“I’ll head over after checking on Louie.” Kelly wipes tears from her eyes, then walks away.

I wince at her whimpering. I didn’t even apologize. I told her I left Maisy to die, and I didn’t even tell her ‘I’m sorry’. I stare at the ground, grinding my teeth, visions of the creep standing over me fresh in my mind. I can still feel its breath against my cheeks…

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Caleb says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I glance up from the dirt. “I’m just…I’m just sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t your fault. I’ll have to talk to Daryl about it in the morning, though.” He pauses, his eyes widening. “That’s the hardest part of my job, you know?”

“Huh?”

His shoulders slump. “Telling someone their friend or sibling isn’t coming back. It’s my fault. I send you guys out every day and every night, and sometimes, you don’t come back.” He tucks his chin to his chest, the light showing the bags under his eyes. “It’s my fault.”

We all owe a great deal to Caleb and his sister. They built the camp. It used to be just him and her until they found more and more kids in need of a home, which makes sense considering the amount of adults that died Before.

It sucks most of us didn’t get the chance to meet his sister personally. She aged into her Threshold, and one day, she got a little too close to the forest and breathed in the toxin. She got sick and died. She was seventeen. Caleb considered it lucky she didn’t turn into a creep. He was left to run the camp by himself at fifteen. Now he’s eighteen.

I rub my arm, not knowing how to comfort the boy who saved my life. In a way, that angers me more than my fear of the monsters. I don’t know how to help the person who helped me.

Finally, I say, “You’re doing your best, Caleb. That’s all any of us can ask for.”

He sighs, and in that sound, I hear someone who never asked to be the leader, who never asked to grow up faster than kids are supposed to. I hear someone with nothing but good intentions, who just wants to keep us safe. We’ve learned the hard way we can’t save everybody, and I think the guilt might kill him before the toxin does.

“You should get to sleep, Jay,” he says. “Guy and Jerry will keep an eye out for the rest of the night.”

Two guys armed with binoculars, signal horns, and rifles come from behind me. The twins climb down their ladders, their binoculars dangling in one hand while they carry their horns in the other. Having a better look at them now, I realize it was Simon who waved ‘goodbye’ to Maisy and me earlier. They’re identical, from their blond hair down to their slightly stuck-up nose. The only difference between them is the pink birthmark stretching from Simon’s neck to his face.

Neither of them say anything to me as they walk by.

By the time Simon and Sam are past the first group of tents and out of sight, their replacements are in the crows’ nests. Guy already has his binoculars pressed to his face, while Jerry scans the surroundings through the scope of his rifle.

Without another word, I slip past Caleb, looking back to see him with his face in his hands, shaking his head. Poor guy. He didn’t ask for this.

None of us did.