October Darlings

by Wendolyn Baird

  Anybody could run off the road, but to swerve off directly into a spirit? That’s more coincidence than I’m willing to believe in.

  Ellis is sitting in his kitchen covered in blood, and it’s all my fault. Nick and Sabrina are scarred by smashing frames and bleeding walls because of me. Delia is sleeping in a crawl space because evil is after me. I’m the only common denominator.

  My throat is raw, and my eyes flutter as the tiles blur in front of me, and for a long time, that’s all I’m aware of.

  “You can’t keep doing this, you know?” Ellis stands over me, having picked the lock on the door after a good ten minutes of calling my name from out in the hall. Behind him, Owen appears relieved to find me conscious, and I stare at them both without raising my head.

  “Did she hit her head?” Owen asks. He shifts to the side, his white shirt smeared with Ellis’ blood and what appears to be melted ice cream. “She could have a concussion. Maybe we should call Mom...”

  “No,” Ellis says. “She shuts down when she’s upset.” The irritation in his voice tells me it’s a trait he doesn’t appreciate. Neither do I.

  I blink slowly, waiting for one of them to address me directly again. One of them will, someone always does. Not that it matters what they say; my voice feels locked away in a part of myself I can’t access just now.

  They lower their heads together, conspiring the way only siblings can. Lucky them. No matter how much they argue, they still have each other. I had my dad, but now I get an occasional text message and I can’t even tell him what’s really going on in my life.

  “We’re going to move you into the bedroom, okay?” Ellis kneels beside me, shifting his arms beneath my neck and knees.

  “Careful, she might have whiplash!” Owen rushes to his side, and between the two of them and the jolting they can’t avoid while they move me, I have to clench my jaw tight to avoid throwing up. They argue down the hall, and eventually settle me onto Owen’s bed, because Ellis’ is covered in stacks of sheet music and his beat-up guitar.

  As soon as Owen leaves the room to call Delia and their parents, Ellis drags the bean bag over and plops down on the floor near my feet. “Are you going to tell me what happened now?”

  I pull the cuffs of my jacket up over my palms and press them under my chin. His brows pull into a worried frown and a line of dried blood clings to his jawline. The kind concern on his face is so endearing, a weight drops on my chest and I resist the urge to reach out to him. He’d never understand.

  “Addie, I get this is a lot, but you can’t just shut your friends out when things get hard. It isn’t right that you’ve been hiding stuff from Sabrina for so long, and come on, this is me. We’re best friends, you can tell me anything.”

  Best friends. Of course, we are. That’s why it hurts so much.

  The longer I stay silent, the more frustrated he gets. From rationalizing to begging, all the way to angrily throwing out one sided arguments, he paces the room, kicks the bean bag back into the corner, and eventually ends up stomping out to go find his brother. It’s better this way, I know it is. Better the spirits flock to me and leave him alone than have him stick around and get hurt, or worse.

  “I JUST CAN’T MAKE HEADS or tails of any of this,” Delia frets. Her teaspoon clatters against her wide mug as she speaks, and her candy corn earrings swing wildly beside her jaw. “I haven’t seen a speck of energy out in those woods for over a decade! And besides that, The House is getting so restless, I’ve almost lost my handle on things around here too. Keys missing, clothes misplaced, it’s as though the spirits are purposefully making life difficult.”

  “Sabrina thought maybe they’re trying to keep us in the house. Like maybe we’re safer here.”

  Delia snorts and takes a huge bite out of the pumpkin empanada in her hand. “Besides that damned crawl space, I think our odds are about the same in the house as they are out of it. But beyond that, I meant that none of this is going on the way it ought to. I thought you were repressing your power some way, but you’re catching things I haven’t and for some reason you still can’t hear anyone. I mean by this point I’d at least have expected you to get the gist of emotions telepathically, but pssht, nothing.”

  “Great, so not only am I a magnet for weirdness, but I’m also a defective clairvoyant. Good pairing, hopefully I can at least stay alive until my next birthday, I’d hate to miss out on the cake.”

  “Now, darling, that sort of negative attitude won’t help any.” Marlowe and Uncle Robert nod solemnly at her side, and I think he’s forgiven me for stomping over his grave. “What did Ellis say about the woman you saw?”

  I squirm in my seat, avoiding Delia’s gaze as I tap my foot against the leg of the table. “I didn’t really tell him.”

  She raises her eyebrows at me, pausing her destruction of the pastry in her hand. “You want to tell me why that is?”

  Guilt hangs over my head like a storm rolling across the ceiling. “You never seem to have company around, or any friends or dates,” I deflect. “Why is that?”

  “I suppose it’s because Nix House is quite a bit for most folks to handle, but more than anything, I find I’ve got enough company as it is. It’s hard to feel alone when your family is around all the time.” She smiles comfortably at the two near her arm, but that expression vanishes when she turns back to me. “What does any of that have to do with Ellis? I thought you were as close as two peas in a pod.”

  “Yes, and no.” Glumly, I scoot my croissant around my plate and watch the flaking bread break off to reveal the rich chocolate underneath. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”

  “Whether you’re around or not, darling, the ghosts are still going to exist. The only difference is your friends won’t be able to see them coming. We’ll figure everything out soon enough, and in the meantime, just try to stay out of the woods.”

  “Gladly.”

  IN THE WEEKS THAT FOLLOW, I do my absolute best to avoid Ellis in the halls and at work, and the tension between us grows so great, eventually Delia has no choice but to switch our shifts. Sabrina refuses to let me fall through the cracks, so although I continue to eat lunch with her and start taking her to school in the morning (the perfect excuse as to why I can’t ride with Ellis anymore), I make up excuse after excuse as to why we can’t hang out. The sunlight fades sooner with every passing evening, and the further into fall we get, the worse my nightmares become.

  Every night, doppelgangers crawl through my window, their eyes icy blue from one lid to the other, and devoid of pupils. Their hands are claw like, their tongues long and forked, and the things they whisper... I can’t ever recall the words, but I wake up shuddering just before a stake pierces my heart.

  “You’ve got classic horror flick syndrome, Nix.” Eden says. Hanging over the side of the staircase, she makes sure nobody is watching before picking the lock to the lighting booth.

  “Excuse me?”

  Almost a month has passed since mine and Ellis’ brush with death, and the more isolated I feel, the more often I find myself ditching class. Fortunately for me, one of Eden’s research projects was helping Sabrina learn how to break and enter successfully, so like it or not, I’ve got a skipping buddy.

  “You said you keep thinking someone’s going to stab you through the heart? That’s a classic vampire trope. Not surprising really, seeing as you live with a bunch of dead people. Ever have a dream about eating brains?”

  “No! God, what do you think I am, a Frankenstein mashup?”

  “Nah, but a girl can hope. It’d give me something cool to paint.”

  “You paint?” I hop into a chair and rip open a bag of chips— my ever-nutritious go to lunch.

  “It’s my newest obsession. Specifically, Van Gough. His brand of misery is really intriguing. I’d ask Sabrina about him if I thought she’d care, but you know her; if she can’t physically see the grave, it’s not worth it.”

  “Yeah, she’s funny like that.” It’s hard
to talk about her, almost as hard as it is lying every afternoon about why I can’t go by her place.

  “I did want to ask you something though.” Eden blushes uncharacteristically, her normally cool demeanor marred by anxiety.

  “What’s that?” I set the chips down and wait. This is something that needs to be heard sans crunching.

  “You and Ellis. You aren’t really talking anymore?”

  My stomach drops and my hands feel altogether too greasy. “No,” I mumble. “Not really.”

  “And you weren’t really dating or anything? Right?”

  Oh no, I hate where this is going. “No,” I manage to choke out. Nothing close to that, unfortunately.

  “Is it okay if I ask him out then?” She grins at me hopefully, her soft red waves falling down her shoulders today and settling on her leather jacket in a way that makes my heartbreak. There’s no way he’ll turn her down if she asks. I mean, she’s gorgeous and outgoing, so why would he?

  I’m a deer in the headlights with no escape. “Sure!” I’m choking on the word, and the room is suddenly too small. Why couldn’t I have just gone to class instead? “Go for it.”

  My only companion is Frank, and sitting alone at the public library after school, I whisper to him as often as I switch aisles. You’d think after almost three months of searching the stacks and paranormal websites, I’d have found something by now about what’s happening to me.

  “No Frank, I’ve already looked at those ones.” He scuttles across a row of books on the Civil War, jumping back onto my wrist when approaching footsteps head our way.

  “Hey! Long time no see!” George sidles into the aisle, a skeleton themed hoodie hanging from his shoulders and mud stains smeared across the knees of his jeans. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and his dark hair glistens with what appear to be green highlights. There’s no denying Halloween’s a big hit around here.

  “Hey!” I can’t help but grin back, happiness spreading through my limbs as I take in his careless gait and total disregard of the glare the librarian is shooting him. “How’ve you been?”

  “Eh, could be better.” He shrugs and leans against a shelf. “Owen and Miranda have this on and off thing going on and Sabrina won’t stop complaining about it, and I kind of agree with her. They’ve had like three years to get it together by now, but for some reason they just can’t. Sabrina thinks they should just call it because it’s throwing the rest of us off balance.”

  “Why don’t you just hang out with Nick then?” I stare past him at the librarian, who’s still frowning our way, and kind of want to ask her what her problem is. A light purple encompasses her palm, so obviously she’s hauling around some kind of regret, but what that has to do with George, I can’t guess.

  “Yeah, that was my plan, but he’s got a family thing. I even tried calling Ellis, but he said he’s got a date tonight, so here I am. Studying on another Friday night.”

  “Really?” I squeak. “A date? That’s cool.” That’s... fast. I wonder where they’re going. The grill? The crappy movie theater? Maybe they’ll just drive around, cuddled up next to each other in the front seat... flirting, laughing, with no worries of being run off the road or stumbling across anything strange and unexplainable.

  “Yeah. Were you going to be here long? Maybe we can snag a table together?”

  “Uhm, no actually.” I blink several times, pulling the bobby pins from my hair and refastening them again. “I’ve got to help my aunt at work. Sorry!”

  “Break my heart, why don’t you?” He grabs at his chest, feigning pain, and spinning in a wide circle. His hand knocks against a row of books and they fall to the ground with a series of thuds, and we both duck at the noise. “Oops.”

  Even Frank is startled by the movement and scurries up my jacket sleeve until he’s clinging onto my shoulder. I clap my hand over him to keep the tiny scorpion from running out through my collar, and stumble backwards as the librarian makes her way over. “Got to go!”

  I run out of the building and across the parking lot, just in time to catch sight of Ellis driving by, Eden at his side. Frank clicks at my ear, and I freeze beside my car. All the tears I’ve been holding back since the night at the gate rush to the back of my eyes, and I curl my fist around my keys until they dig into my flesh.

  No more. The dead can’t steal anything more from me. Not my boots, not my friends, and definitely not my happiness. They want to screw with my life? They can do it over my dead body.

  I barely see the road as I speed back to Nix House. I’m starting at the source, where it all began, and by my reckoning, that means taking a page out of Sabrina’s book. It’s time I go back to the graveyard.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ALL MY CHILDHOOD MEMORIES start within the iron gate, and by that same token, my childhood ended there. Mom died, Dad moved us, and I had to grow up quicker than I wanted. Maybe that’s why he was so confident I’d be okay with Delia and why Delia hasn’t bothered to put me under house arrest since the spirits became restless. Or maybe she thinks it won’t make a difference either way. They’ll come for us, or they won’t. Just being able to see the dead doesn’t guarantee we can hold our own against them. Is that how she lost Marlowe? They say history repeats itself, and obviously it’s recurring way sooner than every three generations.

  The windows greet me with a listless shine under the rising moon as the car jostles up the driveway. Frank runs back and forth across my lap, his tiny legs like pinpricks as he races across my jeans. My hands shake at the wheel, and the whooshing in my ears blocks out the rest of the world. It’s just me and the house.

  Okay ghosts, bring it on.

  I stride purposefully down the side of the house, daring the shadows to come after me, but the evening is still. Even Delia’s cats freeze in their places, their ears pricked up and their fur standing on end as they cower beneath the porch and from the tree branches. Fallen leaves crackle under my work boots, and I mutter curses, still resentful over the loss of my nicer ones.

  Come on, where’s the blood? I wait for it, and I’m ready for it even. Every other horror that has come along is accompanied with puddles of the stuff, so where is it? I’m halfway down the slope of the yard, and still, nothing.

  “Come on, where are you?” I yell. “What do you want from me?”

  A shutter slams open at the back of the house, and glancing back, Marlowe’s disembodied head appears on the other side of the glass, her mouth dropping into a horrified gasp. Sorry Marlowe, but I’m not going the same way as you.

  The wind howls through the baring trees, rustling the dry branches and sending eerie creaks through the open space. I throw my arms out, twirling around as I survey the yard. “Well?” I call.

  Frank whips his tail against my wrist, drawing a drop of blood as he pierces my skin.

  “Ouch!” I flinch. “What was that for?”

  He stares at me reproachfully, and slowly points his tail towards the cemetery. Get inside of the gate, you idiot, he seems to be telling me.

  “Fine, fine,” I scowl. “I’m going.”

  The gate screeches open before me, scraping across cement tiles that keep the mint in. Fragrant hints of rosemary and mint consume me, drawing the anger from the veins, and all I’m left with is a cold that refuses to leave. I can’t stop my gaze from drawing to the right, and just as I approach the right corner of the cemetery, the sliding of leaves across the grass stops me in my tracks.

  “Sabrina?” You’ve got to be kidding me!

  She’s staggering downhill, dressed in the same bright purple dress and torn tights she’d worn to school, with her hair pulled up beneath a silver knit hoodie. In her hands are a cellphone, a flashlight, and inexplicably, a worn notepad that’s falling apart at its seam.

  “What are you doing out here? Go home!”

  “No way! George just called me really freaking upset saying that you ditched him at the library. I’m sorry, but that’s just not okay, and from what I just heard of you
yelling your head off, we’ve got to talk!”

  “Alright, fine,” I snap. “Then let’s walk back to your place and we can talk.”

  She faces off with me, feet squared, and heels dug in. Shoving her possessions as best as she can into the tiny purse hanging across her torso, she narrows her eyes, and in the floodlights off the house, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so angry.

  “No,” she says. “Ellis talked to me today too, and I want to know if he was telling the truth.”

  Ugh, Ellis again? Can’t anyone let me think of anything else?

  “The truth about what?” My blush may well give me away, but I grip the nearest headstone and try out the bluff.

  “You know about what, or you wouldn’t be trying to get me out the yard! You’ve been really quiet and avoiding everyone. Addie, I’m not oblivious. I know when people are only pretending to want me around, and you’ve been super weird for days. He told me all about the evil ghost attacking your house, and what chased you in the woods, and he thinks it ran y’all off the road not too long ago? Were you just not going to say anything and hope I’d just go away? Because real friends don’t do that!”

  “Friends don’t let the other friends get attacked by ghosts. Ellis and I were literally run off the road! Look, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, but I’d rather do that than drag you down with me.”

  The wind brushes around us, sending a whistling past my ears and shivers up my spine. Up near the house, the cats scatter, searching for more shelter, and I really wish Sabrina would just go home.

  “What are you talking about?” she cries. “You think we’re just going to stand by and let you deal with this crap on your own? That’s not the way things work around here, girl! We take care of our own, I thought you knew that. We love you.”

  I shake my head, half crying already. “You don’t know me. Nobody knows me. I’m messed up, I’m a magnet for this stuff and the more it comes after me, the more people are going to get hurt.”