“That’s right,” Josh says. “We pulled everything out.”

“Our bags,” Harper says. “Let’s go through our bags and see if we have anything we’re forgetting about. Does anybody have an iPod? Or a notebook that might have a map?”

“A notebook with a road map?” Brecken asks. “We’re wasting time. You’ve already been through our bags.”

“Let’s at least check the emergency kit again,” Josh says. “Maybe there’s something useful back there we missed.”

Agreeing, we file out again, five reluctant, weary travelers, shivering in the cold and aching from too many hours in the car. The trunk forms the center of our huddle, the focal point of our miserable half circle.

“Pop it,” Brecken says.

Harper does and we start shifting bags and searching the emergency kit. There’s nothing in our bags. Nothing in the kits, either. Harper pulls everything out to get to the spare tire compartment. It leaves the luggage compartment bare. We can see the seam of the back seat here, the place where the seats fold down to create a continuous storage area.

In the middle of the hinge, something glints.

“What is that?” Josh asks.

Harper leans in over the luggage and presses her finger against something silver. She recoils and inhales sharply. “It’s sharp.”

“It’s one of those metal pulls, then,” Brecken says dismissively.

“I don’t think so.” Harper picks at it, frowning. She pushes her fingers into the crack and her frown deepens. She wrestles and tugs carefully and I watch in shock as a long, silver-handled hunting knife emerges from the seam of the seat.

My throat tightens as she tilts it, the taillights reflected on the silvery blade.

I was sitting right there, in that seat. I was sitting inches away from that knife.

“What the hell is that?” Brecken asks, as if he actually doesn’t know.

“It’s a knife,” Kayla says. “Obviously.”

“What is that doing here?” Josh asks, reaching for it. It’s long and mean-looking, the kind of knife you see behind glass in the camping section.

“This was in your seat,” Harper says quietly, her eyes reaching mine after the words are out. “This was right behind you.”

“I know.” I shudder. “If I’d moved wrong it could have stabbed me.”

“No,” Harper says evenly. She’s looking at me with an expression I can’t read. “The blade was facing the trunk. Whoever put this in that crevice shoved it in from the back seat.”

“The seat where you were sitting,” Brecken says coolly.

Fear prickles at the back of my neck. “I’m not the only one who sat in that seat!”

Harper pales, her voice very quiet. “But you sat it in most, and you sat in it last.”

“Come on, that doesn’t have anything to do with anything,” Josh says. “That could have been in there for months.”