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off?”
    S he looks chastened. “That’s a good point.” She winces, rubbing her scarred arm. “But you don’t know how bad Frenchie can be.”  
    It occurs to me that Allie knows exactly how I feel right now.
    Bzzzzz.
    She looks at her phone and nearly starts crying. Her lip trembles.
    “Chase says he and Drew are ready. Let’s get started.”
    “Amy first.”
    Her eyes go wide. “Are you sure? Mark insisted that we rescue you first. No exceptions.”
    “Mark isn’t here and Mark isn’t in charge. Amy’s going first,” I demand .
    We half-drag, half-carry Amy over to the hole. In a bizarre moment of increasing hysteria, it occurs to me that it will be easier for her to fit through the pipe with only one arm .
    “Amy! Amy!” I shake her to consciousness. Her eyes are half dead.
    “What?”
    “We’re getting you out of here.” I turn to Allie. “Tell Chase he has to call 911 and get them there right away.”
    Allie bites her lower lip and makes a face. “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because Mark said we have to wait to do anything public until we’re all safe.”
    “Why?” Amy leans against me. She’s on fire. The infection’s in her blood and she’s in mortal danger.
    “Because he thinks Chief Cummings and half the town is part of El Brujo’s operation.”
    Mikey. I think about Mikey’s face and wonder who, exactly, is involved with the dean—El Brujo—and who isn’t.
    Everyone I trust needs to be re-evaluated, don’t they? Trust is a luxury now. I have to get out of here, and then I’ll worry about it. Can’t worry when you’re dead.
    Or can you? The thought of my dad’s letters floats through my mind like seeds on the wind.
    Oh, Daddy.
    I wish we could have saved you.
    Save yourself, honey , he answers. That’s Daddy’s voice, deep and strong, tight and intense.
    I jerk, my head twisting, the searing pain of my burned neck bringing me back to reality.
    I heard him.
    It was as if he was right here.
    And he’s right.
    I have to save myself.

Chapter T en
    “Let’s tie the rope around her waist. Can Chase and Drew pull her?” Amy alternates between being able to move on her own and going limp.
    “I can’t do this,” she says, weeping. “You both get out of here before the butcher comes back. Get out while you can. You can crawl and—”
    “I’m not leaving you,” I say. My voice goes to a timbre I didn’t know I have. It’s the sound of determination. “You are going to live. So am I.”  
    Amy holds up her one, working pinkie. “Pinkie promise?”
    I close my finger around hers and hold it steady. “Pinkie promise. I swear.”
    S he gives me a sick smile.
    “Get in.” I lift her up, shoving my shoulder against her ass. Amy only has one arm but she uses it to climb up.
    “Wait,” she says, turning and looking at Allie. “What do I do?”
    Allie finishes tying the rope around her ribs. “Chase and Drew will pull. You use your arms—er, arm —and your knees and feet as much as you can.”
    “Can’t we all just crawl out?” I ask.
    “No. Not enough oxygen in there if all three of us go at once. I suggested that and Drew shot me down. Said we could get halfway up and pass out.”
    “Oh.” My stomach roils and I start retching.
    We lift Amy in and Allie texts Chase. The phone buzzes, then I feel the rope go tight.
    Amy starts to move in and makes a horrible gurgle of pain.
    We gently nudge her. Her feet disappear into the darkness of the pipe, and then a muffled howl of anguish.
    Allie’s phone buzzes.
    “Shit,” she groans. “The rope slipped off her and went slack. Chase says we need to pull her out, then put it back on.”
    I fall to the ground. I just fold, like a piece of paper you put in an envelope. I fold into myself, like Carrie origami. My mind folds, too. Like it’s done being exposed to everything and needs to make itself as small as possible.
    “No,” I say. “Just...no.”
    “Get up,” Allie says in a very