My heart stuttered, but I couldn't risk looking out over the hell hole for what could be wrong with Darby and Jo, for what was creeping up behind me, for what might already be reaching a hand out to push me over the side.
The screams continued. Wait, not screams. Scream. Jo's scream, not Darby's, which somehow was even worse.
I gritted my teeth against the shrieking wind, my best friend's cries for help, the thing behind me that jumped my roots so hard, they cracked my teeth together. Finally my fingers curled around one of the roots on the tree Dad hung from, and I swung mine around to platform onto the dead grass.
My crunchy footsteps didn't zip a pair of blue eyes in my direction. The shadows flanking Dad didn't even move, and neither did the crumpled form in front of the tree. The headless form wearing a gray KU sweatshirt that swallowed her skeletal frame.