- Part 1 -
Arrhythmia
Oh, caught in a crossfire now;
Our, our time is running out.
This ship is going down.
- Tommee Profitt, Xeah
"So, what'd you fight with Beca about?" Cynthia-Rose asks. She grabs some branches of an overgrown bush and pushes them out of the way for both of them, leading the way into the woods.
"Beca and I fight over everything," Aubrey answers, even though she knows full well she can't just evade the question. She wants to call her father and thank him for teaching her what poison ivy looks like as she steps over some. The last thing she needs in the midst of all this is to be covered in poison. "It's hard to tell which argument you're talking about. There have been several hundred."
Cynthia-Rose doesn't look amused by Aubrey's answer. She breaks a branch off a tree and tosses it to the side. "If you gonna be keepin' secrets, people are gonna start getting the wrong idea," she says, "Look, I ain't sayin' you killed no one, but people don't go keepin' secrets unless they got somethin' to hide."
Aubrey swallows thickly and pushes some leaves out of her way, keeping her eyes on the ground.
Cynthia-Rose stops and turns around to look at her. "So what you got to hide?"
Aubrey looks up. "Nothing." She feels sick again. Wishes she was searching the water with Chloe. That Cynthia-Rose was interrogating Beca instead. She has never felt this clingy before, but she misses Chloe even though she's just a few yards away. She can't smell her hair when she breathes anymore. Okay. "Beca and I are just working some things out." She forces a smile.
Cynthia-Rose folds her arms and leans sideways against a tree.
Aubrey diverts her gaze back to the ground. She pushes away more foliage and walks past Cynthia-Rose, trying to remain unaffected as Cynthia-Rose just turns to stare at her back. "We should walk a few feet away from each other, cover more ground."
"So, you and Chloe gonna get hitched?" Cynthia-Rose changes the subject entirely.
Aubrey frowns harder. "None of this is relevant to finding Sophia," she says, still trying not to think about how she's looking for a body of a toddler, "I think it would be more effective to search in silence."
Cynthia-Rose pushes herself away from the tree and walks in a direction away from Aubrey. "I can't believe we're out here searching for the body of a baby," she voices Aubrey's thoughts for her.
"We are not searching for her body," Aubrey snaps, keeping her voice down. But they are.
"Then what're we lookin' for out here?" Cynthia-Rose asks, "After all that in the dining room, who says we aren't just searching for bodies? What about Jessica an' Ashley an' Denise? We both know they ain't just running around out here alive."
"Maybe they came through here," Aubrey tries to be optimistic, but it sounds nothing like when Chloe does it, "Maybe they heard the shots and they ran." She has been so focused on Sophia, she already forgot they have an entire list of people they're supposed to be searching for. She frowns at herself, realizing she's just furthering the conversation now. Cynthia-Rose is right though; this is pointless. They're just wasting time. No one is running around out here. The entire island needs to be searched.
"Maybe we should start yellin' their names?" Cynthia-Rose suggests.
Aubrey looks around the empty woods, wondering what the chances of being heard are. She draws in a deep breath. "Sophia?!" she yells.
"Denise?!" Cynthia-Rose follows suit, "Where you at, Girl?!"
"Ashley?!" Aubrey grabs a tree branch to help her step around a bush, "Jessica?!" She can hear the other girls follow their lead and begin yelling their names as well. "Sophia?!" Exhaustion defies years upon years of A Cappella practice, and screaming renders her out of breath almost immediately. Or maybe she's having a panic attack. Either way, her lungs burn and tell her she needs more air. "Sophia!"
Something snaps – like a branch or a twig.
"What was that?" Cynthia-Rose freezes. "You hear that?"
Aubrey nods. She turns in a slow circle then takes a step back toward the park. Maybe it was a squirrel. Sophia would yell back at her, right? She sucks in air through her nose, feeling like she's trying to breathe through a pillow case, and listens. Silence. She takes a step sideways, unsure if they should stay or if they should go. Don't be a coward, Aubrey. It's her father's voice inside her head. In the distance, everyone else is still calling out names. She shares a look with Cynthia-Rose, who looks equally as conflicted.
"I don't think we're accomplishing anything out here." Cynthia-Rose looks in the direction they heard the snap. "What exactly are we expectin' to find? If this guy or guys or who whoever the hell they are wanted us to find something, we'd've found it – even bodies."
She's right. Whoever is doing this has laid out everything they have wanted Aubrey to see. Aside from bodies, Aubrey isn't exactly sure what they're looking for – maybe a shoe or some broken branches signaling someone ran this way. But this could take hours, even if they do find something. "I'm gonna call it," she whispers, focused more now on the sound than the task at hand. "If we go back to the mainland, Seattle PD can send a real search team out here." She pauses. "I might need your assistance convincing Stacie."
"I got your back," Cynthia-Rose says, "But, first, I wanna know what you're hidin'. If you don't wanna tell me, I'm gonna go ask Chloe."
"Someone is…Someone is taunting me," Aubrey blurts out at the mention of asking Chloe. Things don't need to be made worse for Chloe than they already are. "I think it might be related to this. Okay?"
"Wait, so you think all them people…" Cynthia-Rose points in the direction of the inn. "Got shot, because of you?"
Aubrey sticks her hand in the front of her sweatshirt, digging the tips of her fingers into Sam's fur. Because of her. It hits her like a ton of bricks – all of those people, Beca's dad – somehow this is her fault. Cynthia-Rose is going to call her out; she knows it. Tell The Bellas, The Trebles… They'll know the truth. Possibly leave her here. Chloe would never let them do that, unless they leave Chloe here as well. Her chest heaves with shaky breaths.
"If that ain't the stupidest shit I ever heard," Cynthia-Rose says.
Aubrey looks up at her.
"You really think someone shot all them people, 'cause of you?" Cynthia-Rose asks.
Aubrey doesn't respond. Did they? Did they shoot all of those people because of her?
"Why?" Cynthia-Rose asks, staring at her like she's paranoid.
That's the question, isn't it? Another branch snaps, and Aubrey looks around, her heart starting to thud harder in her chest. "I'm calling an end to searching," she whispers, "We need to get everyone we have on a boat."
"You bein' serious, right now?" Cynthia-Rose asks, "You really think this all has somethin' to do with you."
Aubrey takes a step toward the edge of the woods and motions for Cynthia-Rose to follow with her hand. "We can talk about it on the boat." She turns around when Cynthia-Rose starts walking after her, her knees shaking as she steps over a tree root.
"I just don't see why someone would go to all this trouble over one person," Cynthia-Rose says, "That don't make no sense. What you ever done that would've pissed someone off enough to kill all those people, and why? You think it's got something to do with your dad?"
Aubrey stops walking and turns to face her. "I'm sorry?" she asks, completely thrown off by the question.
"Well, ain't he in the Army?" Cynthia-Rose asks, "Maybe he pissed someone off and they're tryin' to get back at him through you."
Aubrey blinks and tries to process her words. She shakes her head. "I don't think so." If that were the case, this was all poorly researched; if someone wants to get her dad's attention, they're going after the wrong kid. She could get shot here, and he probably wouldn't even attend her funeral, because something more important would come up at the last minute. Someone using her to get to her father sounds about as likely as a yeti doing this to them. "Let's just get to the boat."
The sharp crack of a rifle stops Aubrey before she can even start walking again. She shrieks, startled, then clamps her hand over her mouth. Terror grips her insides – squeezes her heart, her lungs, her stomach. Chloe. No, it was too close to be aimed at Chloe. It sounded like it was right next to her. She turns to Cynthia-Rose, but she doesn't see her. That doesn't make sense; she was right behind her. "Cynthia-Rose?" Her voice comes out as barely a whisper. She would have noticed had she run. She needs to run.
Someone coughs, somewhere below her.
Aubrey looks down, taken aback by the sight of Cynthia-Rose on the ground, propped up by a tree. She opens her mouth to tell her they need to move now, but the words get lost and she finds herself staring at blood soaking through the front of Cynthia-Rose's plaid shirt. Her first thought is that it can't be her blood; it has to be somebody else's, like the deer's.
"Aubrey?!" Chloe yells, the sound of her voice followed by her footsteps on the leaves and branches. "Are you okay?!"
"Chloe, stop!" Aubrey doesn't realize she's responding until the words are already leaving her mouth, "Don't move!"
Chloe's footsteps come to a halt. "Aubrey?! What is happening right now?" Her voice is high-pitched, laced with pure terror. "Tell me you're okay."
Cynthia-Rose stares down at the gaping hole in her shirt. "I don't feel it," she says, her voice raspy, followed by another cough, "I think I'm okay." She grabs a branch above her and tries to pull herself up, but barely gets an inch above the ground before she collapses back down.
There are more people yelling her name, more footsteps running in her direction. Aubrey stares, numbly watching the blood expand, convinced she's somewhere else, like she's watching it on a television screen. She can't feel her own body. Beca reaches her first, freezes directly beside her, the two of them shoulder to shoulder. She can't look away from the blood to look at Beca's face. Beca is silent, that much she knows, but Cynthia-Rose tries to talk, and Stacie starts to panic, and Fat Amy is saying something, and she hears them all like she's underwater. It isn't until Chloe yells at her again that her surroundings start to feel more realistic, and she panics, realizing Chloe is standing somewhere behind them, alone.
"Someone go back with her," Aubrey demands, and they all just stare at her, "Go!" It's Fat Amy who moves; the rest of them all fall into silence, staring at Cynthia-Rose as Aubrey suddenly rushes forward on autopilot. She has nothing in her bag to deal with an injury of this magnitude. Maybe it's just a flesh wound. Because Cynthia-Rose assures her again that she can't feel it and she's okay. She drops her bag and kneels down beside her, not thinking as she reaches out and starts unbuttoning the front of her shirt so she can assess the damage.
Cynthia-Rose lets out a laugh followed by several more coughs.
Aubrey stops and looks up, stunned by the response.
"This is a whole group of lesbians," Cynthia-Rose comments. She coughs again and her head lulls to the side, blood pooling in the corner of her lips. "Except the one girl I like."
She's in shock, Aubrey realizes and continues unbuttoning. But, still, maybe it's just a flesh wound. Only that doesn't explain the shock or the blood that starts to drip from the side of Cynthia-Rose's mouth or the gaping hole that Aubrey sees when she finally undoes all of the buttons on her shirt and looks down at her chest. She tugs Cynthia-Rose's shirt off and balls it up, pressing it against the wound. "We need to know if the bullet went through the other side. You're going to have to sit up." No response. She looks up and realizes Cynthia-Rose's eyes are closed. "Cynthia-Rose!" She uses her free hand to shake her shoulder. Nothing.
"Is she…" Stacie's voice trails off for a moment. "…dead?"
It isn't possible that she's dead. She was just speaking. Aubrey places her fingers against Cynthia-Rose's neck, searching for a pulse that she can't find. It isn't possible. She drops the shirt and rolls up her sleeves, then tries to lean Cynthia-Rose forward so can look for an exit wound. But Cynthia-Rose is heavy and she falls to the side, and Aubrey is forced to lower her onto the ground and roll her onto her back. "Someone needs to go get the doctor." Maybe Campbell is still at the inn. No one moves. She can't see Cynthia-Rose breathing, so she places both hands on Cynthia-Rose's chest and starts compressions. Blood flows out over her hands, between her fingers, covering her palms, soaking down the side of Cynthia-Rose's undershirt – warm and sticky. Crazy. "Cynthia-Rose!"
"Aubrey." Beca's hands touch the sides of Aubrey's shoulders, and Aubrey jumps, not having heard her approach. "Aubs…" She grips Aubrey's shirt and pulls her upright, and Aubrey follows with little control over her movements, swaying on her feet, trying to process the scene in front of her. Whoever did this is probably watching them; maybe even has the gun pointed at his next target. "There's nothing you can do."
Stacie is crying. Lilly is void of emotion. Cynthia-Rose is dead. Blood drips from Aubrey's fingers, clings to the leaves on the ground, soaks into the dirt. She backs up, accidentally crashes into a brick wall behind her, registers that wall is Beca and quickly turns to face her, focusing on the band logo on her shirt. She can still see Cynthia-Rose out of her peripheral vision, and she ducks her head and closes her eyes. They should be running. But she can't remember how to move. Beca remembers for her – grabs her bag, pushes her forward, one hand on her back, the other still gripping her sleeve at the shoulder. The other two girls follow them. Silent.
"Hey, Chlo," Beca's voice shakes as they walk past her, "Need your help."
Help. Aubrey realizes that Beca is asking for help with her. Rather than try to shove Beca off, she straightens herself up and asserts herself as fine as she makes a break for the water, the blood congealing on her hands. Tears don't start welling up in her eyes until Chloe grabs her on the other side, and her touch tells Aubrey it's safe to cry, even though that isn't the case. Not with five people following her – two acting like she's about to break, the other three like she's some sort of fearless leader. She drops to her knees by the water and dips her hands in it, nearly throwing up as the water turns red.
Chloe kneels beside her and rubs her back. She sniffles, and Aubrey realizes Fat Amy must have told her what happened, because she's crying harder than just the endless stream of tears that have been present all morning. "Aubrey, stop," she whispers and squeezes her as Aubrey starts scrubbing her hands with her nails, "Stop." It isn't an angry voice; it's more desperate than anything else.
Aubrey just scrubs harder. The water is too cold.
"Hey. Aubrey." Beca sounds completely lost – and her hands feel awkward, still on Aubrey's back and arm.
"I got it," Chloe tells Beca, "It's okay. It's okay." She reaches in the water and grabs Aubrey's hands, tries to help her wash them off, blocks her from using her nails. She scrubs Aubrey's palms, her fingers, and everywhere in between with the pads of her fingers. And Aubrey feels dizzier, but less sick to her stomach.
"Hey, did you find them?!" Jesse yells, jogging in their direction.
Beca uses Aubrey's shoulder to push herself to her feet. "No!" she calls back, "I think you should take Amy, Lilly, and Stacie to the dock, and we'll, uh, meet you there!"
Aubrey can feel all of them watching her. She knocks Chloe's hands out of the way and drags her nails up and down her palms again. She doesn't expect Chloe to put up such a fight in trying to keep a hold on her hands.
"What?" Jesse jogs toward them. "Beca, I'm not gonna just leave you here."
"You're not leaving me here," Beca says, "I just said we'll catch up."
"You and Aubrey and Chloe?" Jesse asks, approaching them.
Aubrey tries to freeze, but her hands have other ideas, and Chloe tries to save her from the shame by cupping her hands around Aubrey's.
"Yeah, we'll be there in a minute," Beca answers simply, "Get them to the boat. Cynthia-Rose was shot." She nods at the other three Bellas then kneels back down beside Aubrey, still facing Jesse.
Jesse kneels down beside her. "Bec," he says slowly, like he's trying to keep his voice low, "Aubrey is clearly having some problems. It might be safer for you to go to the boat and let them catch up."
Problems. Aubrey manages to still her hands, and Chloe gives them a tight squeeze. She stares at their reflection in the water, at how exhausted they both look.
"Are you serious right now?" Beca asks. "Did you not hear me that someone else was shot?"
"Bec, look, they -"
Aubrey doesn't want to hear his opinion on her, and she definitely doesn't want to hear his opinion on Chloe – not right now. She tugs her hands out of Chloe's grip and slaps the water then shoves him before he can finish speaking – right into the lake.
"Dude!" Beca yells and spins to face her, "Aubrey!"
Jesse sits there for a fraction of a second, glaring at the water. He slams his hands down on top of it then sends a wave of water in Aubrey's direction, completely drenching all of her and half of Chloe. It's like an icy shock that goes through her entire body.
"Guys!" Beca drops the two bags then leaps into the water between them and holds her hand out in Jesse's direction, "Stop!"
Chloe gasps at the cold water and falls back onto her bottom, accidentally pulling Aubrey down along with her. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" she explodes at Jesse.
Jesse pushes himself to his feet and looks down at his soaked clothes then looks at Beca.
Aubrey watches him stand up – fingers digging into the grass, nostrils flaring. She can feel Chloe shivering next to her, and she knows that she, herself, is freezing, but she can't figure out how to respond to that when she doesn't feel connected to her own body. Beside her, Chloe slowly gets to her feet then grabs Aubrey by the arm and starts pulling her up too.
"We shouldn't be fighting right now," Beca says, remaining positioned between them, "We should be going to the boat. Jesse, where is Benji?"
"He's starting one of the boats," Jesse says, not taking his eyes off of Aubrey and Chloe, "We decided no one should get left behind, so Nikki went back for everyone in the chapel."
"That isn't what we planned," Beca says, "Everyone is supposed to be sticking together."
"Well, we did leave a whole bunch of people behind," Amy points out, drawing attention to the presence of the remaining Bellas.
Beca looks at her. "Whose side are you on right now, Amy?" she asks.
"Side?" Jesse asks, "You want there to be sides, right now?"
Beca lets out an incredulous laugh. "You just doused Aubrey and Chloe in water," she points out, "Don't tell me you don't think you have some sort of side in this."
"Are we just gonna ignore that Aubrey pushed me?" Jesse asks.
"Yeah." Beca nods. "We are. Because you had no reason to come over here like that when I told you we would meet you at the boat."
"I'm just trying to protect you," Jesse says.
"From what?" Beca asks, "My friend trying to wash blood off her hands? Why?"
"Friend…" Jesse repeats the word under his breath, like it's foreign. "Because I'm your fiancé."
"Look around, Jesse!" Beca swings her arm in a giant half circle, "Our wedding is screwed!"
"What?" Jesse reaches for her hands. "We just need to pick a new date, Bec…"
Beca blinks. "A new date?"
Chloe picks up Aubrey's bag from where Beca dropped it on the ground and swings it over her shoulder. She grabs Aubrey by the arm, snapping her back to reality, and pulls her toward a colorful roundabout.
"And a new location," Jesse adds.
"Sit down," Chloe commands and drops both bags on the ground.
Aubrey sits down on the edge and absently holds onto one of the bars, feeling like she's spinning even though the ride is still. She turns her attention away from Beca and Jesse to Chloe, only staying just enough aware of them to know if Jesse starts coming their way again.
Chloe unzips Aubrey's bag and pulls out her beach towel then drapes it around Aubrey's shoulders. She sits down next to her and tries to dry her off, squeezing pieces of her sweatshirt with the towel to soak up the water.
"Chlo, remember to take care of yourself too," Beca calls to her.
Chloe looks at their bags again and presses one of her hands to her forehead. She collapses sideways into Aubrey, gasping with each inhale. "I can't – I…" She turns her head, pressing her face into Aubrey's shoulder.
Aubrey wraps an arm around her, struggling to take on Chloe's emotions on top of her own.
Beca backs away from Jesse, and he just stands there and stares at her as she kneels down and goes through Aubrey's bag before she opens Chloe. She pulls out Chloe's towel. "Dude, you gotta stop crying," she says seriously, pulling her upright and away from Aubrey. She lifts the towel and wipes one of Chloe's cheeks with it.
"I can't…" Chloe flinches when the towel touches her face, her cheeks flushed and tender from her tears. "Ow."
"She's exhausted, Beca," Aubrey says. She expects Beca to hit her with some sort of comeback – that she can see that or that they're all tired – but Beca just wraps the towel around Chloe and dries her off. She looks around at all of their surroundings. Fat Amy, Stacie, and Lilly are just staring at her, tears clinging to their faces. Jesse looks like the only semi-functional person, aside from maybe Beca. She looks at Beca as Beca stops drying Chloe, zips up their bags, and then stands.
"We need to leave," Beca says, her words directed at Aubrey. She grabs Chloe's bag then takes Chloe's arm and pulls her to her feet.
Aubrey stands and grabs her bag, clutching her towel around herself with one hand. Beca's arm wraps around Chloe's waist and holds up her towel, and Aubrey looks from them to Jesse, who is watching them in confusion and undeniable jealousy. She finds herself grateful, because she isn't sure she could drag both herself and Chloe to the boat right now. Jesse notices her staring and locks eyes with her, and she looks away, looking at the three Bellas. "If we get on the boat -"
"We can't just leave my daughter here," Stacie cuts her off, "I won't."
"Stacie, Seattle PD can send in a bigger search party," Aubrey says, "They could search this whole island in the time it would take us to around the hotel." It hits her that they're all over the place right now – changing their minds, scrambling. She doesn't know if even the boat is the right decision. But she doesn't know what else to suggest.
"Aubrey's right," Beca says, "It's safest for all of us to get on that boat – for Sophia too. We don't have time to fight about this."
Stacie looks ready to argue for a fraction of a second, but then she nods her head in agreement. "Well, then, let's go," she urges them, wasting no time in walking toward the path, Fat Amy and Lilly directly behind her.
Aubrey follows next to Beca, Jesse uncomfortably close behind them. She accidentally crashes into Beca, and someone places their hand on her back, directly above where the gun is sticking out. She thinks it's Chloe until she realizes that Chloe is clutching her towel with both hands. Beca's hand is on her back. She draws in a breath and stiffens involuntarily, regretting it when Beca's hand falls away. She drops her arm to her side, hesitates, then just barely brushes her pinky against Beca's. Her gaze remains straight forward as Beca looks up at her, and her face starts to feel warm underneath her freezing skin – like she's burning on the inside.
Beca falters – Aubrey can feel her stretch out her pinky then bend it again. Her fingers brush Aubrey's palm, far more contact than Aubrey is expecting, then curve around her hand, giving it a squeeze that doesn't let up.
Jesse has to see. He has to. And Aubrey almost feels guilty. Almost. She tries to swallow the feeling of her throat closing up. They're going to be fine, she tells herself. Her. Chloe. Beca. She isn't sure what she means by the thought – especially when can feel the target on her back, right where Beca's hand had been. None of them are fine.
