by Nancy Holder
And then Rose stepped from the doorway. The moonlight bleached her face . . . and cast her eye sockets into shadow.
I shivered in the cold night.
I had a terrible feeling.
Not Rose, I begged.
Then she took another step forward. No color, just ebony.
“I am so blessed,” Mandy said, as she wrapped her arms around Rose and kissed her cheek. “Here you are, sweet as ever. All of you.”
“We weren’t sweet. We were wicked,” Lara said, grinning.
“We never were, honey. Ever,” Mandy retorted.
“I was.” Rose’s voice was low and sad.
“Ssh, don’t you talk like that.” Mandy trailed her fingertips along Rose’s cheek. Rose pressed her face against her hand and smiled.
They turned and walked back into the lake house. I watched it spin and tilt and blur as I sank to the ground, sick, shivering, and about to pass out. I leaned my forehead against the tree and sank, deep. . . .
“Lindsay.”
The sound of my name woke me up. Troy gazed down on me, his eyes a little bloodshot, his face pinched. “I saw you leave. You looked upset,” he said. He was slurring.
And you care because? Oh, please do not say that Mandy ordered you to look for me.
“Uh huh,” I replied, enunciating each word. “Mandy was trying to be funny with her Ouija board thingy. And it wasn’t funny.” There, that came out well. “She was out here. I think she’s crazy.”
“She’s drunk. Mandy also made her Jell-O-shots about five time stronger than usual,” he added, sounding angry. “My friends didn’t realize it, and they’re getting totally wasted. I could strangle her.”
Then Miles would kill you, I thought.
“How’s Julie doing?” I asked, turning my head to the lake house.
“Spider’s cool. He’ll take care of her.” He bent down and touched my cheek. “But I think I should get you home.”
Then he did the most amazing thing. He picked me up, mud-covered skirt and all. I inhaled his smell, and felt the softness of his sweater in the cold, dark night. And I was so happy to see him, so very happy.
He carried me down to the lake. One arm was around my back, and the other one was under my knees. I laid my head on his chest and shut my eyes, willing away all the weirdness and the questions. Just breathing him in—the comfort of being taken care of.
There were three rowboats pulled up on the shore, each with LAKEWOOD painted on the side. They had to be the rowboats he and the other guys “borrowed” to come to our side of the lake. He gently set me down in the nearest one. He pushed off, sloshing into the water—his feet must have been frozen—and then he slid in and picked up a paddle.
Mandy’s going to be so pissed, I thought, but I couldn’t help my sheer joy. Troy had picked me. Me.
I stared at his bulging arms as he pulled the oar deep into the cold, dark water. In that moment, I had no idea if he wanted to help me or harm me. He could be dangerous, after all. And here I was alone with him, on a tiny boat in the middle of a vast, icy lake.
I shivered.
“They were talking so strangely,” I told him.
“Who?”
“Mandy and her friends.”
“That’d be a first.” He huffed. “She really used to be nice, Lindsay. Something happened to her. Something bad.”
“What was it?” I asked.
There was a beat. “I don’t know.”
Liar, I thought, as the boat glided on the black water. Oh God, I was so drunk. So dizzy. It had to have been the extras trong Jell-O shots; a little bit of vodka had never felled this party girl in the past.
“I keep thinking she’ll get over it,” he went on. “And be the way she was.” He sighed. “She was so sweet. So smart. Like you.”
I didn’t want to listen to him brooding about Mandy, even if I came out looking better than her. He was drunk, too. He might not even know what he was saying.
I drifted and laid my head on the slippery, cold edge of the boat. The water lapped against the hull. The moon shimmered like silver. And I knew, somehow, that if I gazed into the water, the face that looked back at me would not be my own.
I heard a splash and somewhere beyond our brave little boat on the wine-dark lake, an owl yodeled. Music wafted toward us, a slow song—a song that sounded kind of old-fashioned . . . someone was singing:
“My love is like a red, red rose . . . ”
“Troy, do you hear that?” I asked.
But before he could answer, I drifted again. I heard myself calling for Memmy; I felt her kiss my cheek. Someone was making a promise to me, or a bargain: if I was good, if I helped . . .
If I helped?
“Get Number Three ready. We’ ll do them all tonight.”
“Lindsay, can you help me a little?” Troy murmured. I jerked awake. He was trying to keep the boat stable and pick me up at the same time. The boat was tied up to the NO TRESPASSING sign in the inlet below Jessel.
I stifled a giggle, because he was rocking back and forth like a circus clown; it just struck me as so funny; and I eased myself up, all boneless and goosey. I was drunk, and I let everything just wash over me, wash away, the hell with all of them.
“God, you’re sexy,” I blurted. Then my eyes bugged out and I said, “Whoops!” as Troy put one foot on shore and grabbed hold of the sign while he supported my forearm with the other.
He laughed, low in his chest like a rumble; then harder, almost silently. I smelled the alcohol on his breath and saw his white, white teeth.
I had no idea how he managed to drag me onto the bank; by then we were both laughing hysterically, our arms around each other like two drunken sailors. We started to hoot; then we shushed each other. I fell against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him.
“Oh,” I gasped, and he bent his head down toward me. And then he kissed me. His lips were incredibly soft and warm. My head exploded as I kissed him back, moaning softly, as if my soul were flying out of my body toward him. He eased his tongue into my mouth, gripping his arms as he pushed up against me, just a little. I could taste the alcohol, feel it tumbling through my veins and igniting me; my inhibitions evaporated and I pressed my body against his.
“Lindsay,” he whispered, “Oh God.”
The comet blazed until I had to catch my breath; then it was over, our first kiss, as we gazed at each other as if we’d just realized who we really were.
“That was. So nice,” he whispered, running his hand through my hair, trailing his fingertips down the side of my face.
But then a cold wind passed between us, and I thought of the days Troy had spent with Mandy after she’d come back. He had been her date tonight, but he’d left with me. He was her boyfriend, for God’s sake. And now he was making out with me. Was this the kind of person I had become?
A spot prickled between my shoulder blades and skittered toward the small of my back. Coldness wrapped around my chest and squeezed. Someone was watching us. I was sure of it, and I jumped away from him. With a puzzled frown, he reached for me, and I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I don’t think we’re alone,” I said under my breath.
“It’s okay. Everybody’s at the party,” he said.
But I knew it wasn’t okay, deep in my bones. As I studied Troy, so handsome and so Mandy’s, who kissed me so easily, that was all I knew.
twenty-six
I went to my room, undressed, and passed out. The next thing I knew, Julie was shaking my shoulder.
“Wake up, Linz. We have to leave.”
“What?” I sat up slowly, still dizzy, as she pointed to our window. I heard people muttering in the hallway. I reached for the light on our nightstand. It didn’t go on. Then I realized how cold it was in our room. It was freezing. It must have been around 3 a.m.
“There’s a blizzard, and we’ve lost power,” she said. “We’re going to stay in Jessel.”
Jessel
. Mandy’s turf. And I had just kissed her boyfriend.
I was shaking with cold. It was icy. “How did you get back? Is everyone okay?”
“The weather was turning bad. We all left. No one knew where you went.” She gave me a look. Or did I imagine it? “Troy was gone too.”
She was supposed to be my best friend, but I couldn’t tell her. I knew that as she looked suspiciously at me. Had Rose said something? Rose had thought to call Troy to get us to San Covino, and left it to me to do it.
I still didn’t know if Rose had seen us on our walks.
“Is he okay?” I asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if Spider’s okay, either.” She pulled out her cell phone. Her face was pinched; her hand was shaking. “I can’t get through.”
Oh God. I thought about the black, cold lake. A rowboat in a blizzard. My stomach clenched; my chest tightened. I had to force myself to breathe.
“Maybe Mandy got hold of them,” I said.
“Hurry, girls,” Ms. Krige said, poking her head into our room. She was holding a blindingly bright lantern.
Snow and wind blasted over the mountains and down into our valley, filling it to the brim, suffocating our buildings. Sideways squalls transformed into a whiteout blizzard, dropping tons of snow on the gables and roofs all over campus. The horse heads were buried; two Marlwood custodians dug the snow from our front door so we could get out.
We dressed in our warmest clothes; each of us brought a backpack filled with our toiletries and tramped down the hill to Jessel. Rose was there, having already secured permission to spend the night before she’d left for the party. She had a gift for staying out of trouble.
And Kiyoko was there, looking frightened and alone in the crowded living room as we refugees put down our things and Ms. Meyerson and Ms. Krige passed out hot tea and cocoa. She stood beside their beautiful white Christmas tree, decorated with white and silver ornaments. A menorah of eight rabbis-a-leaping sat on a chased silver table beside it.
Julie and Mandy hustled away into a corner, hustled back. Julie nodded at me. Troy was safe, then. I sagged with relief.
Ms. Meyerson put our names in a coffee cup and distributed us. I would be rooming with Alis and Sangeeta, who already shared a room because they moved so late that Ms. Ehrlenbach didn’t want to furnish two. At least, that’s what we’d heard. Claire and Ida were paired up in Kiyoko’s room. April and Marica with Lara, who was none too pleased; she pointed out that there were two empty bedrooms and asked why they couldn’t stay in one of them. Ms. Meyerson told her the heat was out in one of them and Elvis and Leslie had the other empty bedroom, which was unfurnished. There were air mattresses and sleeping bags for us, and couch cushions. Ms. Krige would sleep in Ms. Meyerson’s room.
That left Rose and Julie, who would stay with Mandy. Rose looked at me cross-eyed when no one else was looking. I didn’t smile back. I didn’t want Julie in Mandy’s room at all, ever, but as I watched the shining excitement on my friend’s face, I knew I wouldn’t be able to make a decent case for why she shouldn’t. I couldn’t tell her that while I was totally drunk, I had watched Mandy, Alis, Lara, and Rose act like the witches in Macbeth. I couldn’t say I was afraid of Mandy Winters. Julie already knew that. But she wasn’t scared; she was charmed. Enthralled. Impressed.
As the housemothers busied themselves with our arrangements, I felt someone staring hard at me, and I turned. It was Mandy. I felt myself go cold inside.
Oh God, she knows, I thought. Maybe he confessed. Maybe he broke up with her. My surge of hope was inappropriate, given my situation. But it was there nonetheless.
I was on an air mattress in Alis and Sangeeta’s room. Alis’s furnishings were antique, like most of the rest of the house. Sangeeta had gone Indian, with dark blue brocade bedclothes, mosaic-and-brass furniture, and an amazing gold jewelry box glittering on her dresser.
I wanted to call Troy, make sure he was all right. Ask him if he’d said anything. I pulled out my phone. One bar. Maybe the snow was affecting my reception. I’d try later.
It was then that I realized I’d left my charger back in Grose. I’d have to be careful not to use up the battery.
The snow pressed against Jessel’s windows until we couldn’t see out of them at all. I didn’t see any faces in the glass, not even our reflections. All I saw were piles of white.
“It’s like living on a glacier,” Rose said, as we gathered in Kiyoko’s room, waiting to use one of the bathrooms, clutching toothbrushes and toothpaste, some of us in borrowed robes.
“Or underneath an iceberg,” Kiyoko said quietly, standing as far away from me as possible.
Sounds came from Mandy’s room: laughter, her voice rising and falling. Mandy was alone in her own room, making more space for Julie. Hiding the trunk, probably.
“She’s talking to herself again,” Ida whispered to me. “Wacko.”
“Psycho,” Claire corrected.
Rose grinned wryly at me.
I glanced over at Julie, whose cheeks were turning pink. She’d obviously heard. She cleared her throat and walked out, heading, I knew, for Mandy’s. I darted after her.
“Julie,” I said, catching her in the hall. She turned and looked at me, her expression a cross between impatience and maybe a hint of fear. “Julie, something is seriously wrong. With her.”
Julie looked coldly at me.
“I think it would be best . . . to maybe sleep in the room with me,” I insisted. “Please.”
“Oh God, you’re still jealous of her,” Julie cried. At my stricken reaction, her features softened and she laid a hand on my arm. She whispered, “You’re still my best friend, sweet bee.”
Sweet bee.
I swayed as she smiled at me, all of fifteen, and rapped softly on Mandy’s door. She went inside, as if she belonged there. And I felt a sharp terror grip my insides and shake them hard.
Breathe in.
Become one of us.
I walked to Mandy’s door and raised my fist. Lowered it. Turned, and saw Kiyoko in the hall. She was watching me with huge eyes, and as I took a step toward her, she bolted.
“Please,” I said, catching up to her. “I know something’s up. What did you want to tell me?”
By then she was blinking back tears. “Nothing.”
“You were looking for me last night.”
She stiffened. “How do you know that?”
“Kiyoko.” I touched her shoulder. So bony. She was wasting away in front of me. “You’ve come to me twice. Just tell me what’s going on.”
She took a deep breath and gazed past me, at Mandy’s closed door. “Not here,” she whispered.
Thank you. “Where?”
“I’ll—I’ll let you know. Nothing can happen while . . . while we’re stuck . . . ” She bit her lower lip, which was chapped and bleeding.
“Nothing like what?” I insisted, but I could sense her detaching from me.
She half-turned, turned back to me. “When it stops snowing, we . . . we’ll go for a walk. Or something.”
“Just tell me now,” I said. “This is stupid.”
She shook her head and walked away. It had been the wrong thing to say. But I didn’t know the right thing. I thought about checking in with Rose about it, but I couldn’t trust her anymore.
We all settled in. I tried one more time to call Troy, holding my phone like a Geiger counter as I walked down the hall. I walked beneath the balcony past the pretty Christmas tree to the panorama window. Still one bar.
Maybe I have to go higher. Maybe . . . to the attic, I thought. My heart stuttered. I had to know how he was.
I backtracked, not wanting to so much as think of those dark, claustrophobic stairs, the door at the very top of them . . . the wheelchair behind the boxes.
I headed past the door of the forbidden turret room.
My cell phone registered three bars. I stopped and smiled. I started to dial, then realized I might get Troy
in trouble with a voice call, and that I might be overheard, so I texted him instead. Simply asked, “U OK?” and pushed send.
CALL NOT COMPLETED, my cell phone screen reported.
My reception wasn’t good enough. Darn, I thought. I started to walk to the back stairs . . .
. . . And the bars went down to one.
“Huh,” I said aloud. I took a few steps backward. Three again.
And then four.
If I stood directly in front of the turret room door . . .
I tried again. Surely, with four, I was in business.
CALL NOT COMPLETED.
I looked at the door. At the doorknob. I reminded myself that no one was allowed in, although no one had told us why.
Maybe it’s unsafe, I thought. These buildings are so old. Look at the wall in the attic. Maybe they knew about the tunnel. Maybe there’s something even worse in here.
I looked left, right. The hall was empty, except for me. I put my hand on the knob and tried to turn it. It was locked.
I’m not going to the attic, I thought, as my heart raced. I moved away from the door and licked my lips.
“Lindsay?”
I jerked, whirled around. “Hey.”
It was Alis, standing in the doorway of her room. She yawned.
“You okay?” she asked me.
“Yeah.” I nodded. Waited. She stood there. I had the feeling she was going to stay there, waiting for me. Alis, whose eyes had gone black. Alis, who had talked with a Hispanic accent at the party.
“I just . . . I had to go to the bathroom,” I said.
I walked up to her, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Then she stepped back, ushering me back into her room.
Sangeeta was sitting up in her bed. She looked at me.
“We were worried about you,” she said. “Julie says you sleepwalk.”
“I . . . ” I was stunned. Were they guarding me?
“Thanks,” I said, and lay back down on my mattress. I didn’t think I would sleep.
But I did.
Number Seven . . . I think she might be a problem . . .
Smoke.
Everywhere.
The door . . .