CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Heather
The third floor is quiet, and I move along the carpet like a mouse. I don't know where all the Silver Hunters have gone, but there have definitely been less of them the last day.
I saw about twenty of them crossing the bridge and taking off in cars and motorcycles. Does that mean they're giving up on Hawthorn?
I doubt it.
I also doubt anyone is coming to save us.
Even if I could get to my phone, it wouldn't matter. It's nearly impossible to get any service on this stupid island, in these stupid woods.
"... we need more boots on the ground,” a woman says from around the corner.
My breath freezes in my throat, and I desperately search for somewhere to hide. Spotting an open classroom door, I slip through it.