The Thicket

by Noelle W. Ihli

That’s the moment he loves most of all—even more than the blood. The moment of knowing. Knowing that something very bad is about to happen. And that it’s too late to stop it.

But that feeling of staring into the dark and wondering if there’s danger lurking there, even just a little danger, will never get old. It’s the whole point of Halloween.

The only place she really wants to be is here—but five weeks ago. To ruffle his too-long hair and roll her eyes instead of leaving him alone. To be counted among the kids who walked right through Cabin Twelve—and then later realized that the blood in the bathtub was real.

It tastes like nail polish remover, and she can feel it burning all the way down her throat, settling in her empty stomach like lava.