Class Trip II
Bebe Faas Rice
A grisly tradition . . .
“Human sacrifices?” Hallie gasped. “You mean, they actually burned people?”
Elder Sidlaw nodded.
“And you’re still celebrating a feast where things like that were done?”
“Why not?” Elder Sidlaw replied calmly. “It’s a tradition.”
Hallie and Becky watched as a low platform with a stake in its center was erected in the middle of what would become the bonfire.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Hallie said nervously. “This looks like they’re getting ready for the real thing.”
“It’s totally harmless,” the elder assured her. “In primitive times a maiden would have been sacrificed to the people’s patron Goddess.” He hesitated. “Now, of course, a straw dummy represents the maiden.”
Becky was staring at the scaffolding, her eyes wide.
“Burned at the stake! What an awful way to die!” she said in a horrified voice. “Even if I believed in some Goddess and all that baloney, I still wouldn’t want to die like that.”
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 1994 by Daniel Weiss Associates, Inc. and Bebe Faas Rice
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Alloy Entertainment. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), write to [email protected]. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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Reprint edition 2016
To Duff—My favorite critic and technical adviser. And to Jackie, who told me about bone fires.
Contents
Chapter One The Place of Worship
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter ONE
The Place of Worship
In the smoky, wavering light of the torches, the white-robed leader’s pale eyes glitter like blue ice.
“The Goddess has turned her face from us,” he says accusingly. “It has been ten years since our last sacrifice, and She is angry. Now the crops have failed, and we have had no live births among the women of the village.”
A murmur of frightened assent runs over the crowd gathered below. The people raise their faces to him trustfully.
Behind him on a dais sit twelve men also dressed in white robes. They are seated in high-backed, thronelike chairs behind a long black table. Their eyes are fixed on their leader.
“The ancient gods are not dead,” one says reverently. “They live in fire and water and wood and stone. And The Goddess is mightiest of them all. We must not offend our Goddess.”
The other men on the dais nod wisely.
“All reverence to The Goddess!” someone in the crowd calls out.
“All reverence to The Goddess!” the rest repeat.
One of the twelve men turns to the leader and says, “But we have made sacrifices. The animals. The straw burnings. Have they not shown our devotion?”
“No,” the leader tells him. “Those were only symbolic sacrifices. Straw maidens and animals no longer satisfy The Goddess and cause her to bring fertility to our fields and to our wives.”
He pauses and looks around. “We must have a Fire Maiden for the feast of Beltane,” he says in a low, clear voice.
There is a collective gasp, followed by a moment of uneasy silence. A faint wail comes from one of the back rows, but it is quickly suppressed.
“Yes,” the leader says. “A Fire Maiden. The Goddess requires it.”
The faces of the men at the table are grim and set. In the audience several women have begun to weep.
“Who will choose the Fire Maiden?” someone finally asks.
“The twelve elders and I will make the final decision,” replies the leader. “Just as we did last time.”
A thin, bitter-faced woman in the crowd stands up and says, “Ten years ago I gave my daughter—my beautiful, flame-haired daughter—to The Goddess. I was proud to do it. Is no one here willing to do the same for the good of our people?”
She glares angrily at the frightened people around her. No one will meet her eyes.
“Well?” she demands.
“Maybe The Goddess will be merciful and send us a sacrifice from The Outside,” someone says.
Voices join in hopefully. “Yes, a sacrifice from The Outside.”
The bitter-faced woman laughs. “What cowards you all are! Do you think someone from The Outside will wander in here, like a fly to a spiderweb?”
The leader, who has been listening thoughtfully, says, “Someone from The Outside? Yes, why not? We will send out a few of our best men to find the perfect sacrifice and lure her to the village. And then . . .”
Chapter TWO
Hallie Anderson hung over the front seat of the ancient white van and tapped the driver’s shoulder.
“What’s that noise, Adam? That little ping—hear it? Is something wrong with the motor?”
Adam French shrugged. “It does that sometimes. Nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Hallie echoed incredulously. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, on a mountain road I can’t find on the map, and the van’s making weird noises. What if it breaks down?”
“It won’t break down, Hallie. Trust me,” said Adam.
Adam’s words were cheering, but his voice sounded uncertain. Hallie looked out the window and shivered.
Spring had come late this year after a long, harsh winter. It was now the end of April, and the cold, lashing rains had washed mud and old leaves down from the embankments onto the primitive, bumpy road they were traveling.
Hallie had never been in this part of the state before—the remote, mountainous area on its western border. There seemed to be little in the way of civilization out here. A few badly repaired roads, and a gas station many miles back. That must have been where they’d taken the wrong turn, gotten on the wrong road.
They’d been driving for six hours. Six long hours for a trip that was supposed to take only four. Something must have gone wrong. Seriously wrong. They were nowhere near their intended destination. And with the rains and the mist, twilight would come early.
We’re lost, Hallie thought. Not that Adam will ever admit it! She heard the ping in the motor again. It seemed louder. Maybe my imagination is working overtime.
Almost as if she’d read Hallie’s thoughts, the red-haired girl in the front seat turned and smiled reassuringly.
“Adam’s van always makes weird noises, Hallie. It’s a little eccentric, that’s all.”
A little eccentric? Hallie sat back in her seat and shook her head. Trust Becky to come up with something like that to describe her boyfriend’s wheels.
Hallie coul
d think of a few other words for that pile of junk. Words like decrepit, dilapidated, and unsafe at any speed.
So why on earth am I riding in it? she asked herself.
Because I didn’t want to spend four hours on a school bus with the guy who just dumped me for the class flirt, that’s why. My only regret is that I didn’t drop him before he dropped me.
Hallie knew it would have been a long, tough bus ride if Becky hadn’t invited her to drive to the Shakespeare Festival with her and Adam. The two girls had been best friends since fourth grade, and Becky could always be relied on to bail her out of trouble.
The Shakespeare Festival had seemed like a good idea when Mr. Costello, the drama coach, had announced it in assembly. Not only would the drama club be competing with students from all over the state, but they were excused from school on Friday in order to make the trip to Harrington College. When Hallie had found out that they were doing a scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, her favorite play, she’d thought the plan was perfect. And then Craig had decided to tell her he’d found true love with Kimberlee Beasley. So here she was, lost in the wilds, with Becky and Adam.
The road grew steeper. The old van was having a hard time of it now, bucking and wheezing as it mounted the hills. In the open area behind the seats the suitcases containing the teens’ Elizabethan costumes for the play slid from side to side as the van maneuvered one sharp turn after another.
Hallie leaned back in her seat and watched Becky and Adam, envying them their easy closeness.
Adam and Becky. Becky and Adam. The two had been together for as long as Hallie could remember. Becky always said she was sure she and Adam had known each other in a previous incarnation.
Becky was like that. Dreamy. Romantic. Hallie often accused her of wanting to live in the past, and Becky agreed.
“I love anything old,” she always said. “Sometimes I feel out of place in the twentieth century.”
Hallie thought Becky even looked old-fashioned, with her long red hair and gorgeous complexion. She never seemed to get a big ugly zit or have a bad hair day like everybody else.
As the road twisted and looped higher and higher around the mountain, the rain turned to a thin drizzle, then stopped altogether, giving way to a mist that blanketed the road and hung from the branches of the low-lying shrubs like wispy, tattered cobwebs.
Adam slowed the van to a crawl and peered anxiously out from between the slow-moving windshield wipers. To make matters worse, the tree-covered area on their right had given way to a sheer drop. Hallie could see it through a hole in the mist.
“Uh, Adam,” she said, feeling her stomach tie itself into a tight knot. “Do you think you could stay a little more to the left? There’s quite a drop-off here.”
“So I noticed,” Adam responded. He slowed the van even further, keeping it as close to the middle of the road as he dared. Hallie could tell by his white-knuckled grip on the wheel that he was worried about meeting another car head-on. The ping in the engine had turned to an ominous clanking now.
“Look up there,” Becky said, pointing to where the mist had cleared slightly. “The road seems to be widening out, and we’ve got ground and trees on our right again.”
The knot in Hallie’s stomach unraveled a little.
“There’s even a spot where we can pull over and look at the map,” she said. “Maybe one of you guys can figure out where we are. I sure can’t.”
Adam pulled the van over to the shoulder, turned off the motor, and took a deep breath.
Hallie passed the map over the seat to him and Becky. “See? There’s the main road we were on. But then we turned off on a side road, and then onto this one, and I can’t find either on the map. I don’t have any idea where we are right now.”
Adam and Becky bent over the map. Finally Adam said, “You’re right, Hallie. I don’t see this road, or the one before it, either.”
“They must be too small to appear on a map,” Becky said. There was a forlorn quaver in her voice when she added, “Let’s face it. We’re lost.”
Lost. Hallie looked out the window. The swirling mist reminded her of the fog machine from last semester’s production of Brigadoon, a play about a quaint little village with a curse on it.
Hallie’s heart sank. It would be dark soon.
“Well, if worse comes to worst, we can always sleep in the van tonight,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “And we’ve got soda and sandwiches in the cooler, so we won’t starve.”
“Oh, no,” Becky moaned. “The others must be at the college already. If we don’t show up tonight, people will worry. Mr. Costello will probably call our parents, and my mom will have a fit!”
Adam reached over and took Becky’s hand. “We’re not lost, Becko. Every road has to go somewhere, right? So if we keep going, we’re bound to find a town, or at least a gas station. Then we’ll get directions and call the college to let them know we’ll be late.”
What a great guy, Hallie thought. Why can’t I find somebody like that? How come I’m always attracted to the sexy sleazoid types?
They were preparing to pull out onto the road again when they heard the noise.
It sounded as bad as, if not worse than, Adam’s van, and it chugged toward them out of the mist, like a time-warp phantom from a horror novel.
“Omigosh!” Adam cried. “A real Model T Ford!”
Hallie poked him. “Quick! Jump out and stop it. Maybe the driver can help us.”
Adam hastily threw open his door and jumped out, waving his arms. The Model T putted to a stop on the narrow gravel shoulder that bordered the opposite side of the road.
The man who stepped out of the car was middle-aged, of average height, and his hair was beginning to recede slightly. He seemed perfectly normal, but Hallie got an uneasy feeling just looking at him.
Adam had gone over to the old car and was talking earnestly to the driver.
“I’d better go help Adam,” Becky said. “You know how he is about getting directions. He always forgets later if he’s supposed to go left or right.”
Hallie, watching from her window, saw the man do a double take when Becky walked up.
People always stared at Becky when they first met her, Hallie reflected. Not, of course, the way this guy was, with his blue eyes wide and his jaw practically hanging open. But there was definitely something about Becky that made people look twice. After all, not many girls had a head of hair that long and thick and red—not an orangy, carroty red, but the rich, warm red of a blazing fire, with all its shades and striations of color.
Hallie wondered again why the stranger bothered her so much, especially since he seemed willing to help them.
The man was now pointing in the direction they’d been headed and making motions that indicated to Hallie that the road would be leading downward. Hallie smiled. The sooner they got on flat ground, the better.
Adam kept nodding and smiling. Maybe they weren’t too lost after all.
Hallie slid the van door open, crawled out, and walked over to the group. Her uneasiness about the stranger increased as she drew closer to him. For one thing, he had an odd, smoky odor about him. Even out here in the open and a couple of feet away from him, she could smell it. Only, she could tell this wasn’t tobacco smoke. It wasn’t so much unpleasant as it was puzzling. Maybe it’s some weird kind of incense, Hallie thought.
“And then you’ll come to a little town called Holyoake,” the man was saying. “I don’t know much about it. The people there keep pretty much to themselves, but it’s bound to have a garage.” He had an odd accent, Hallie noted—old-fashioned or something.
“Great!” Adam said. “Thanks. We were starting to get worried.”
The man smiled slightly, and Hallie could see that his teeth were in bad shape. Then he turned his gaze full upon her, and again she had the peculiar sensation that there was something . . . wrong about him.
“Hi! I’m Hallie,” she said, holding out her hand.
Wordles
sly, still staring at her, he stretched out his hand in reply. Hallie saw the quick flash of a tattoo on his wrist, under his cuff, then it was gone. His handshake was cold and clammy, and Hallie had to resist the impulse to wipe her hand on her jeans.
“Well, thanks again,” Adam said cheerfully. “We’ll be okay now.”
They walked back to the van and climbed in. Hallie continued to watch the stranger through the window. He didn’t get into his car right away—he kept staring thoughtfully after them. At Becky in particular.
He was smiling.
Chapter THREE
“Boy, what a nice guy,” Adam said, starting the van. It coughed weakly and died a couple of times before finally catching hold. Adam pumped the gas pedal, and with a protesting sputter, the van pulled out on the road.
“What did he say?” Hallie asked, feeling like a monster for disliking the roadside Good Samaritan.
“He says that if we follow this road down the mountain, we’ll come to a little town where there’s a gas station and a telephone. We can get directions to the college and call Mr. Costello to let him know where we are.”
“Great!” Hallie said. “I was really getting worried. The van sounds like it’s starting to fall apart.”
Adam nodded. “I didn’t want to upset you girls, but something’s going wrong under the hood. And I think it’s getting worse. I’ll have the mechanic at the gas station take a look at it.”
“But what if it breaks down before we get to the gas station?” Becky asked.
“According to that guy, the road goes downhill after the next rise,” Adam told her. “We can always coast into town if worse comes to worst.”
The van barely made it up the next hill, but when it crested and started downhill, it shuddered into gear and began to roll smoothly.
As they swept around a wide bend in the road, the mist parted. Through a gap in the trees below, they glimpsed what looked like the thin white spire of a church.
“That’s the best thing I’ve seen all day,” Hallie said. “Civilization at last! Where there’s a church, there’s bound to be a town.”
Class Trip II Page 1