by R. L. Stine
Don’t we have to hear an explanation? We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.
“Come back here. I mean it!” Mark cried.
But the girls were out the door. Mark could hear loud music and laughter from the guesthouse. The door slammed behind them, the window glass rattling.
The sound made Lea gasp. “Mark—what is going on?”
“It’s . . . the twins.”
“There you go again. The twins. The twins. How can you blame the twins if these two girls—”
“I could storm out there and yell and scream and send everyone home,” he said. “But I’m kind of drunk, Lea. And I think maybe if we get calm first—”
“Get calm?”
“If we go screaming after Elena and Ruth-Ann and threaten to physically pull them back to the house, it’s war. And we’re the ones starting it. We need to be the adults here. I need to talk to the twins. But I need to go into the house and be the calm, reasonable one.”
“Do you hear all the voices out there? It sounds like a mob. How can there be room for them all in that tiny guesthouse!” she said.
The kitchen phone rang. The sound made them both jump. Lea glanced at the clock above the sink. Nearly midnight. Who would be calling this late?
Mark made a move toward the phone but let her reach it first.
She recognized the voice of one of the class parents. Alecia Morgan. She sounded agitated. “Lea, is Justin over there? Is he with you?”
She hesitated. “I . . . don’t think so. Was he—”
“He said he was going over to Ira’s. He was supposed to call so we could pick him up. I’ve been calling him since nine-thirty, but I only get his voice mail.”
“The boys are out back,” Lea said, staring hard at Mark. He was mouthing something but she couldn’t understand him. “In our guesthouse. They like having their own little hideaway.”
The woman’s voice turned cold. “I just want to know if he’s there and why I haven’t heard from him.”
“I’ll check. I—” A long beep. “Uh-oh. I’m getting another call. I’ll get Justin and tell him to call you.”
“Lea, wasn’t anyone supervising them?”
Lea cut off the call without answering her.
“Mark, go see if Justin Morgan is out back with the boys.”
He nodded and started to the door. But stopped to listen to the next conversation.
“Your daughter?” Lea made a shrugging motion to Mark. “Debra? No. I don’t think so, Mrs. Robbins. Elena is having a sleepover with Ruth-Ann. But I don’t think—”
“Would you check, please?” The woman’s voice quavered. “I’m going out of my mind. She was supposed to be home three hours ago.”
“Well, of course I’ll check. Do you want to hold on? I’ll—”
The doorbell chimed.
“I can’t believe Roz can sleep through this,” Mark muttered.
Lea waved him to the front door. She told Mrs. Morgan she’d call her back. When she stepped into the front hallway, Mark was talking with a smiling, middle-aged man in a gray running suit, a high forehead, square-shaped eyeglasses catching the entryway light.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Sutter. I’m Steve Pearlmutter. Rex’s father. Sorry I’m late picking him up. There was an accident on Noyac Road and the cars were backed up for over an hour. No way to turn around. Unbelievable.”
Mark and Lea exchanged glances. Rex Pearlmutter?
Lea spoke up first. “Sorry you were stuck for so long. Let’s go out back and find Rex.” She turned and led the way to the kitchen. “It’s been a crazy night. Our kids invited a lot of their friends over. I hope they haven’t been too wild. Mark and I had to go out and—”
Pearlmutter’s eyes grew large behind the square glasses. “You mean the kids aren’t in the house?”
“They’re right out back,” Mark offered. “They love hanging out in the guesthouse.”
Pearlmutter smiled. “We didn’t have a guesthouse when I was a kid. My friends and I had to play in the basement.”
“Is your son in Ira’s class?” Lea asked, pulling open the back door.
Pearlmutter nodded. “Yes. And I think they know each other from tennis camp.”
Mark shook his head. “Ira only lasted a few days at tennis camp. It was too rigorous for him. He got blisters.”
“They worked them pretty hard,” Pearlmutter agreed. “But Rex learned a lot. Really improved his technique.” He laughed. “He’s only twelve and he can pretty much keep up with me now.”
They stepped outside. Low hedges clung to the back of the house. Rows of just-opened tiger lilies, bobbing in a light breeze, led the way along the path to the guesthouse.
Music blared from the guesthouse. Lea’s bare feet sank in the dew-wet grass. The ground felt marshy even though it hadn’t rained. She felt something brush over her feet. It scampered into the flowers, making them shake. A chipmunk? A mouse?
She raised her eyes to the guesthouse. The lights were all on. Two tall pine trees stood as sentinels on either side of the red wooden door. The light from the windows made their long shadows loom over the yard.
“Pretty loud in there,” Mark murmured.
“They like their music loud,” Pearlmutter offered. “We used to—right?”
“I guess you’re right,” Mark said.
“Rex is usually an early bird,” his father said. “He uses up so much energy during the day, he’s exhausted by eight-thirty or nine. Staying up past midnight is a special treat for him.”
Lea stopped at the door. She had a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She thought of Elena and Ruth-Ann. And who was the other girl? Debra Robbins?
Why would these snobby, sarcastic fourteen-year-old girls want to hang out with a bunch of immature twelve-year-old boys? Did that make any sense?
No.
And the blue arrows on their faces. Would fourteen-year-old girls really want to join a club for elementary school kids?
These thoughts made her hesitate with her hand on the brass doorknob. “Should we knock first?”
“Let’s go in, see what they’re up to,” Mark said, motioning with his head.
Pearlmutter snickered. “Catch ’em in the act.”
Lea pushed open the door. Music roared out. Bright yellow light spilled over them. The bedroom was in the front of the house. Behind it, a narrow hall had a bathroom and a long, thin dressing room on one side, a closet on the other.
“Oh, wow,” Lea murmured, her eyes moving around the room. The bunk bed and the twin bed beside it had been stripped. Bare mattresses. No pillows. Nothing on the blue-green carpet. No clothes strewn about or tortilla chip bags or soda cans.
“Hello?” Mark called, squinting into the bright light. He moved quickly to the back of the room and swung open the hall door. “Hello?”
Lea’s eyes went wide. She turned to Pearlmutter, whose knotted face revealed only confusion, and murmured in a voice that seemed to be coming from someone else, “There’s no one here.”
55
Saturday morning, Samuel followed Daniel onto a pale blue local Hamptons bus that took them on the old Montauk Highway to Hampton Bays. It was a warm, sunny morning, one of those beautiful May mornings with no humidity and the sweet fragrance of spring flowers in the air.
Samuel gazed out the window as they passed a green college campus. The sign said: Stonybrook Southampton. Trees were just sprouting leaves and the lilac bushes were spreading their violet flowers.
How good to be among the living, Samuel thought.
Living is so special.
Deep thoughts for a Saturday morning as the bus bumped along the narrow two-lane road, twisting past an inlet of the ocean now, sparkling waters under the clearest of blue skies.
What a shame. What a shame.
Samuel wished his brother could enjoy being among the living as much as he did. If only Daniel had the same appreciation for the spring air and the delightful aromas, the brightness of the morning, and that special vibrant gre
en on the trees you see only in springtime.
But Daniel had a different agenda. And, of course, it had to be Samuel’s agenda as well. For he was the Burner, the Fire Man, the Punisher. And as sure as the lilacs opened every spring, Daniel had people to punish.
If Daniel could use his hypnotic powers without help, Samuel would be content to watch. And yes, enjoy. But wherever the power came from—Hell, most likely—it joined the two of them together the way no twins had ever been joined.
The bus bounced along the highway, past a model of an Indian teepee and a cigarette trading post. Some kind of Indian reservation, probably.
Samuel read somewhere that all this land had belonged to an Indian tribe. Now their territory seemed to be squashed down to a cigarette store on the old highway.
The road turned. They were rumbling through a suburban neighborhood of nice houses. The sun and the sky appeared brighter here.
Samuel and Daniel sat two seats from the back. No one else on the bus except for an elderly woman in the front seat, sound asleep with her head bobbing against the window.
Samuel thought about the big move. It had gone smoothly. And was very timely, since Mum and Pa had arrived home earlier than expected. Now they had room to spread out. And room to welcome the dozens of new kids flocking to them in order to move Up with Sag Harbor Middle School.
Monday will be the first hard day, Samuel knew.
We should rest up and enjoy our new home for the weekend. We should make sure that all the new minds are set. That the new followers are clear about the goal.
But no. Daniel had his other plans.
Pa had seen too much. Pa knew too much. Pa could ruin everything.
And so, it was important to keep Pa busy. Very busy.
And that’s why it was so urgent and important to kill Autumn Holliday.
56
The twins found Autumn’s house easily, on a street just off Dune Road near Hot Dog Beach. Set back on a small square of grass, it was a squat, two-story redbrick with white trim and white columns on either side of the front door.
The house was old and not very well kept up. One side had darkened, the bricks rutted and cracked. The paint was peeling from the two columns.
“Let’s be quick, boyo,” Daniel said. “We don’t want to neglect the newbies, do we?”
They climbed onto the narrow stoop, up to the screen door. Samuel pushed the doorbell and they heard it buzz inside.
Footsteps. Then Autumn pulled open the door and stared through the screen at them.
“Huh? You two? Really?” Blue eyes wide with surprise.
“Hi,” Daniel said shyly, smiling so his dimples would flash.
“Did you boys come all this way to see me? How did you find me? How did you get here?”
She pushed open the screen door before they could answer. Samuel followed Daniel into the small front room. He sniffed. The stale air smelled of coffee and cigarette smoke.
The brown leather couch on the back wall had a duct tape repair on one arm. He saw two folding chairs, a small flat-screen TV playing a cooking show. Fashion and gossip magazines were strewn over the low coffee table. A huge landscape painting of grassy sand dunes covered the wall over the couch.
“Not very fancy,” Autumn said, as if reading his thoughts. “Not like your house. Oh, this stuff isn’t ours.” She gestured around the room. “My sister and I are renting the house just till we figure out what our lives are going to be about. Oh, wow. I wish Summer was here. I’d love for her to meet you guys. I’ve told her all about you. But she’s in the city this weekend.”
“Your sister’s name is Summer?” Daniel asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Autumn and Summer. Do you believe my parents? Good thing I don’t have a brother. Spring is such a bad-news name for a guy.” She giggled.
She’s a beautiful girl. Too bad. Oh lordy, too bad.
Autumn’s white-blond hair was like a smooth helmet, parted in the middle and cascading down to her shoulders. She wore a blue midriff top that matched her eyes and revealed several inches of creamy white skin, down to the red short shorts that showed off her long, slender legs.
Samuel’s eyes stopped at the red shoes. They were velvety with red straps at the top, had tall spiked heels, at least four or five inches high, and thick platform soles.
“You’re a giant!” Samuel blurted out.
She giggled again. “Are these awesome? I was just trying them on when you arrived.” She pointed to the shoe box on the floor beside the coffee table. “They’re sooo expensive.”
She did some awkward strutting. The heels made tiny round imprints in the faded brown carpet. “This takes practice. It’s like being in the circus. You know. A balancing act.”
“They’re pretty,” Samuel murmured.
Daniel glared at him. They had a job to do.
“How did you boys get here?” She ruffled her hand through Daniel’s hair as she made her way to the couch, tilting one way, then the other. Finally, she dropped onto the edge of the brown cushion.
“Bus,” Daniel said, smoothing his hair back into place.
“Do your parents know you came all this way by yourselves?”
“I don’t think so.” Daniel’s reply.
Autumn fiddled with the straps on one of the shoes. “So why did you come? Just to visit? For an adventure? That’s so nice of you.”
“No. We came to kill you.”
Subtle, Daniel. Always the subtle lad.
Autumn let go of the red straps and raised her eyes to Daniel. “What did you say?”
Samuel clenched his jaw tight and started the fire in his eyes. He felt the warmth immediately. The light changed as if he were viewing the room through a filmy red filter. The warmth washed down his neck, his back, a rippling heat that swept over his whole body.
“We came to kill you,” Daniel repeated, his face blank, eyes trained on hers.
Autumn giggled. “Why would you kill me? Is this a game? Something for school? No. A war game?”
“You did bad things with Pa,” Daniel said, taking a step toward her. “We saw you.”
Autumn didn’t giggle this time. Her face creased as she narrowed her eyes at Daniel. She was beginning to realize he was serious.
“You—you two were watching us?” She stood up, awkwardly on the tall, spiked shoes. Grabbed the taped arm of the couch for support. “Really? You’re serious? You were spying on us?”
Samuel blinked as the red before his eyes pulsed and began to sizzle.
“We saw you,” Daniel said quietly. “You did a bad thing with Pa.”
Autumn’s mouth curled in anger. “That’s none of your business. How is that your business? You’re a kid. You don’t know anything about grown-ups. Did you really come all the way here to tell me you were spying on me?”
“Now we have to do a bad thing to Pa,” Daniel said.
“Listen, you don’t know what you’re saying,” Autumn told him, hands on the waist of her shorts. “You’re just a kid. You don’t have to worry about any of this. You got yourself all stressed out over nothing.”
She started to walk past him toward the front door. “I think you two have to leave now. And don’t tell your parents—”
She stopped midsentence when she saw Samuel’s eyes, and her mouth dropped open. Startled, she stumbled and backed into the wall.
“Samuel? What’s wrong? Your eyes—”
“We have to do a bad thing to Pa,” Daniel repeated. “It’s important. You have to burn.”
“No—wait! What’s going on? What are you doing?” She pressed her back against the wall and raised her hands as if preparing to fight as Samuel moved close.
He raised his eyes to her and steadied his fiery gaze on her throat.
She uttered a cry. Grabbed her throat with both hands.
“Stop it! That hurts! Are you fucking weird?”
She pressed her hands around her throat. Samuel raised his eyes to her forehead. The heat crackled like elect
ric current.
Still gripping her throat, she ducked her head. Slid down against the wall, struggling to avoid the painful attack.
“Stop! You fucking weirdo! Damn it! Damn!” She sank to the floor, covering her face.
Samuel aimed the red beam at the top of her head.
Beside him, Daniel watched, unblinking, his smile gleeful, hands balled into fists, thumping the air as if cheering his brother on at some kind of sports event.
“Damn! Damn! You’re hurting me! Damn it! Stop! Fuck you!”
Samuel the Punisher, the Fire Man, Samuel the Avenger aimed the beam at the part in her hair. He saw a line on her scalp darken, saw the hair along the part blacken in the scorching heat. Saw the darkening skin start to peel open.
So sorry to make a big hole in such a pretty head.
Autumn, you are the prettiest one yet. So sorry it didn’t help you survive.
You were so pretty and so bad.
Rolled into a tight ball, Autumn had stopped screaming. When she made her move, it was a blur of motion to Samuel. He stared down at her through the thick, pulsating curtain of red. He could see vague shapes and the direction of his heat beam. But he didn’t see clearly enough when Autumn suddenly untucked herself.
Grunting like an animal, she made a wild grab at her foot, slapping at it, fumbling frantically. With a hoarse cry, she tugged off one of the red shoes.
Then she rose to her feet, her hair smoking, thrusting the shoe above her head.
“Look out, boyo!”
Daniel’s warning came too late.
Samuel’s vision was a blur of red.
Eyes wild, hair burning, Autumn lunged toward Samuel. She gripped the shoe by the toe with the spiked heel pointing out.
Like a sword blade. That was his thought as she swung it down on him. Plunged it down with all her strength, aiming for his eye.
He saw the long spike driving toward his face. And then felt Daniel push him, shove him back. He stumbled.
The heel missed his face—and she drove it deep into his chest.
Samuel saw it in slow motion. Saw it puncture his shirt. Felt it dig into the skin. Felt it. Felt it. Felt it slice into the tender spot just below his rib cage.