You're Not Supposed to Die Tonight


 
 Cover
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Contents
 Chapter One
 Chapter Two
 Chapter Three
 Chapter Four
 Chapter Five
 Chapter Six
 Chapter Seven
 Chapter Eight
 Chapter Nine
 Chapter Ten
 Chapter Eleven
 Chapter Twelve
 Chapter Thirteen
 Chapter Fourteen
 Chapter Fifteen
 Epilogue: One Year Later
 Acknowledgments
 About the Author
 eCopyright
 
 
 Books by Kalynn Bayron Cinderella Is Dead • This Poison Heart This Wicked Fate • You’re Not Supposed to Die Tonight BLOOMSBURY YA Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP, UK 29 Earlsfort Terrace, Dublin 2, Ireland This electronic edition published in 2023 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc BLOOMSBURY, BLOOMSBURY YA and the Diana logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published in the United States of America in 2023 by Bloomsbury YA First published in Great Britain in 2023 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc Text copyright © Kalynn Bayron, 2023 Kalynn Bayron has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author of this work All rights reserved You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN: 978-1-5266-5846-3 (PB) ISBN: 978-1-5266-5848-7 (eBook) ISBN: 978-1-5266-5847-0 (ePDF) To find out more about our authors and their books please visit www.bloomsbury.com where you will find extracts, author interviews and details of forthcoming events, and to be the first to hear about latest releases and special offers, sign up for our newsletters. For Final Girls everywhere CONTENTS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Epilogue: One Year Later Acknowledgments About the Author CHAPTER 1 My hands are smeared with blood. Dirt sticks under my nails. My jeans are ripped at the knee, and my T-shirt is stained because I had to claw my way out from my hiding spot under the supply cabin. He is too close, and I can’t risk staying here. Above me, the moon is just a sliver of silver hanging in the sky, but I’m thankful. I lost my flashlight, and the moon is now the only thing lighting the path in front of me as I push toward the main lodge. The boathouse comes into view. I suck in a chest full of chilly nighttime air and let out a bloodcurdling scream. It carries in the clear, quiet dark. Three people burst from the boathouse. They’re tripping all over one another, and the woman is screaming her face off. The two dudes with her look pretty shaken up. “Help me!” I scream. I limp toward them, panting, clutching my side. “Please help me!” The woman runs up to me and grabs me by the shoulders, digging her nails into my skin. “I gotta get out of here!” she shrieks. “I didn’t know it was going to be like this! I can’t do this.” She has a raised welt on the side of her face, and her bottom lip is split open. “It’s just the three of you left?” I ask as I try to catch my breath. “Yeah,” says one of the other guys. His gaze darts from me to the lake, which is flat calm and looks like a giant black mirror reflecting the silvery sliver of moon in the sky. Somewhere behind me, a branch snaps, like something heavy is crushing it underfoot. My heart slams in my chest. The woman leans over and puts her hands on her knees. She doesn’t appear to have heard the sound. Her back is to the woods when suddenly, he’s there. His dark-blue coveralls are smudged with dirt, making him almost impossible to see against the backdrop of towering pines. His six-foot-eight frame looms in the shadows like a ghost. His mask is horrifying in the dark. It’s a dingy white color, smeared with red and mud. There’s a crack running up the right side. His massive hand grips the handle of a machete, its blade slick with blood. He stalks forward, and the woman doesn’t even see him until it’s too late. He grabs her from behind, lifting her up off the ground. He disappears with her kicking and screaming into the Mason Lodge, a smaller cabin we mostly use for storage. I don’t move. I can’t. One of the guys makes a break for it and bolts toward the camp entrance. The other guy just stands there as a thin film of sweat blankets his forehead. I grab his arm, and he snaps out of whatever terror-induced trance he’s in and starts hollering as loud as he can. “Come on!” I yell. The dirt road that leads to the camp’s main entrance seems too long, and the screams of the terrified woman echo all around us as we race down it. The timbers of the giant sign that flank the entry gate materialize out of the dark. The other man is already there. “Brandon!” he screams. “Get your ass over here! We gotta go!” “What about Leslie?” Brandon asks. “We can’t just leave her!” “Leave her ass here!” the other man screams. A body lies motionless on the ground in the main parking lot. Tasha. My friend, my coworker for the past summer, is lying on her stomach. The glinting handle of a large knife protrudes from her back. A dark stain seeps across her yellow uniform shirt. Brandon sees her and staggers forward, clawing at the iron gate, which is padlocked shut. I stagger to the gate and grab the metal bars. I push on them and scream as loud as I can. “Help us!