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Black Creek Crossing

Page 21

by John Saul


  “This is gonna be fun,” Chad said, his lips twisting into a malicious grin.

  “If it works.” The uncertainty in Jared Woods’s voice only made Chad’s grin turn even uglier.

  “Why shouldn’t it work?”

  “How do you even know we can find the stupid cat?” Jared countered.

  “We know where Angel is,” Zack told him. “So we know where the cat’s going to be, right? It’s been there all morning. I checked after every class.”

  “But she says it’s not even her cat,” Jared reminded Chad and Zack.

  Now both of his friends were eyeing him, and Jared knew what they were thinking. “I’m not chickening out,” he said. “But what if we get caught?”

  Zack rolled his eyes. “If it looks like we’re going to get caught, we won’t do anything. What do you think I am, stupid?” He glanced up and down the hallway, which was now deserted. Dumping the contents of his backpack into his locker and shutting the door fast enough so nothing fell out, he flattened the backpack and stuck it inside his jacket, pulling the zipper halfway up so he didn’t have to hold the pack in place. “Come on.”

  Leading his friends down the stairs and out the front door of the school, he threaded his way through the knot of nerds who habitually sat on the front steps playing chess while eating their lunches out of the kind of lunch boxes that Zack and his friends had quit carrying in fourth grade. Ignoring them, Zack headed across the lawn to the sidewalk, and then wondered if he might not be wrong.

  The black cat was nowhere to be seen.

  “I thought you said it was here all morning,” Jared Woods said, trying to keep the relief from his voice.

  “It was,” Zack said, starting across the street toward the spot under the big oak tree on the corner where he’d always seen the cat sitting in the morning.

  But now it was gone.

  “I don’t get it,” he said, frowning as he scanned the area around the tree and looked up and down the street. “It’s been here the whole morning.” As he uttered the words, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and feeling a terrible presentiment of danger, he spun around.

  Nothing.

  He turned around again, and saw Jared and Chad gazing up into the tree.

  Jared was slowly backing away, and though Chad wasn’t moving, his face had gone pale.

  Zack peered up into the tree too, and found himself looking into the golden-yellow eyes of the coal-black cat, whose lips drew back, baring its teeth.

  Zack’s heart pounded heavily as he remembered the cat hurtling out of the darkness last night and sinking its claws deep into the flesh of his face. Now, the cat emitted a low hiss, and again Zack felt the agonizing pain that had ripped through him a little more than twelve hours earlier. It was all he could do to keep from backing away the same as Jared had, but somehow he managed to hold his ground.

  The cat’s tail twitched and it crouched lower, stretching toward him.

  “Watch out,” Jared said, his voice barely above a whisper. “If he jumps at you—”

  “He won’t jump at me,” Zack said. “He’s just as chicken as you are.” His eyes still locked on the cat, he pulled the backpack out of his jacket. “That’s right, isn’t it?” he asked, staring up at the cat. “You’re real brave in the dark, but when it’s light—”

  Reacting to the words as if it understood them, the cat suddenly launched itself at Zack, springing from the branch with its forepaws outstretched, its claws bared, a furious yowl erupting from its throat.

  Zack stepped aside at the last second and lashed at the cat with the backpack, catching it in the side and flipping it over.

  The cat fell to the ground on its back but rolled over so fast Zack barely even saw it, and an instant later was on its feet again, crouched low, hissing and snarling as it faced him.

  “What’s the matter, cat?” Zack taunted. “Don’t like it?”

  He struck out at the cat with the backpack, and the animal lashed at the pack with its forefoot.

  Zack jerked the backpack away a moment before the cat’s claws could sink into the nylon.

  Now Chad joined in, peeling off the nylon jacket he was wearing over his flannel shirt and rolling it up the way he and his friends rolled towels in the locker room to flick at each other after they’d showered. As the cat kept its eyes fastened on Zack, Chad moved around and slashed at its flanks with one of the jacket’s sleeves.

  Screeching, the cat leaped into the air, whirled around, and came down on all fours, hissing and spitting at Chad with even more fury than it had directed at Zack.

  A second later one of the shoulder straps of Zack’s backpack came down on its back, and once more it whirled.

  “Come on, Jared,” Zack said. “Take a lick or two.” Jared Woods had moved back another pace, and shook his head silently as his friends kept baiting the cat.

  “What’s the matter, Woods?” Chad teased. “Afraid he might get into your room again tonight?” As Zack kept baiting the cat with his backpack, Chad snapped his rolled up jacket at Jared, who jerked back as the snap on the jacket’s sleeve stung his wrist. “You a pussy too?” Chad taunted.

  With the challenge hanging over him, Jared unfastened his belt buckle and pulled it out of the loops in his pants.

  As if sensing the new danger, the cat whirled to face Jared, every muscle in its body tensing as it prepared to strike. His nerve fading in the face of the animal’s fury, Jared took a step backward.

  The cat moved closer to him, the tip of its tail twitching as dangerously as the rattle on the tail of a snake. Behind the cat, Jared could see Zack opening the backpack and edging closer.

  Seeing what Zack was doing and understanding what he had in mind, Chad whispered to Jared, “Take another step back. Wave the belt at him.”

  Taking the backward step was easy—every instinct inside Jared was screaming at him to turn and run before the cat launched itself at him and once again sank its claws into his belly. The cat, sensing Jared’s fear, edged closer, its yellow eyes glinting, its tail twitching faster.

  Jared froze, too terrified now even to move.

  The cat crept closer, a venomous sound coming from its mouth that sounded to Jared even more dangerous than the hiss of a snake about to strike.

  The belt fell from his hands.

  The cat moved closer yet, its eyes fixed on Jared as if it could see the terror in his soul, and Jared felt a cold sweat break out on his skin. He tried to step back again, but his legs suddenly felt weak.

  Then, just as the cat was about to strike, Jared saw a sudden movement behind it.

  The cat, sensing the movement, leaped into the air to turn on the threat behind it.

  Too late!

  Zack dropped the open backpack over the cat while it was still in the air, and dove to the ground, his full weight falling on the backpack as he fumbled for the zippers that would close its flap.

  Beneath him he could feel the cat squirming and thrashing, slashing at the heavy nylon with its claws.

  He found the zipper and pulled it closed. With the cat still thrashing, and now yowling with rage, Zack scrambled to his feet, grabbed the backpack by the shoulder straps, and swung it hard against the trunk of the oak tree from which the cat had leaped only moments before.

  The cat howled.

  Zack smashed the backpack against the tree once more, and the cat fell silent. The boy glanced up and down the street. No one across the street, by the steps of the school, seemed to be paying attention, perhaps because the battle with the cat had been shielded from view by the large tree. And except for a woman who was just coming around the corner a block away, the street itself was deserted.

  “Come on,” Zack said. “Follow me.”

  With Chad and Jared behind him, he hurried across the street, but instead of heading for the front door of the school where the nerds had finally finished their chess games, he veered off to the side, headed down to the end of the building, and went around the corner. By th
e time Chad and Jared caught up, he was halfway up the steps that led to the door that opened into the staircase connecting the main floor not only to the second floor, but to the basement as well. Then all three of the boys were in the maze of pipes and ducts that filled the basement of the school, and Zack led the way to a dark corner near the furnace.

  “What are we going to do?” Chad asked. “Burn it?”

  Zack shook his head. “I’ve got a better idea. But first we’re going to make sure it’s dead.”

  Gripping the shoulder straps of his backpack, he raised it, swung it high over his head, and smashed it down onto the basement’s concrete floor.

  A grunting sound came from inside the bag, and there was a faint movement. Zack handed the pack to Chad Jackson. “Your turn.”

  Chad hesitated only a second before hefting the bag as if to test its weight, tightening his grip on the shoulder straps, then swinging it high a couple of times before smashing it to the floor.

  From inside the bag there were two more muffled grunts.

  Chad tossed the bag to Jared Woods, who let it drop to the floor at his feet. “Now you.”

  Jared gazed uncertainly down at the bag.

  “We said we’d all do it,” Zack Fletcher said.

  “Y-You didn’t say what—”

  “Do it,” Zack cut in, his voice as hard as his balled right fist. “You want to keep on being our friend, you do it.”

  Jared scanned the far reaches of the dimly lit basement, half hoping someone might come out and give him an excuse not to pick up the backpack, but he neither saw nor heard anyone.

  They were alone.

  With no one to save him, Jared bent down and picked up the backpack. He could feel some weak movement inside the bag, but nothing like the violent thrashing of a few moments ago.

  He hefted it in unconscious imitation of Chad Jackson.

  “Go on, pussy—do it,” Zack commanded.

  Wincing at the nickname—and knowing Zack would hang it on him forever, just as he’d done to Seth Baker when he’d renamed him “Beth” when they were still just little kids—Jared steeled himself, tried to put down the nausea rising in his stomach, and swung the backpack against the wall.

  He told himself he didn’t hear the yip of pain from inside the pack.

  Told himself he hadn’t swung the pack hard enough to really hurt the cat. Not like Zack and Chad had anyway.

  Told himself the cat was probably already dead.

  Besides, the cat had attacked him last night, hadn’t it?

  But even as he tried to convince himself, the nausea rose in his stomach again. He dropped the bag at Zack’s feet. “I did it, okay?”

  His lips curling into a faint sneer, Zack picked up his backpack. “And now you’re gonna puke, aren’t you?”

  Jared shook his head, though he wasn’t at all sure Zack was wrong.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Zack said, slinging the pack onto his shoulders as if it still contained nothing more than his schoolbooks.

  Staying half a step ahead of Chad and Jared, he led them back to the stairs, then up to the second floor corridor where their lockers were.

  Theirs—and Angel Sullivan’s.

  While Zack kept a careful eye on the empty corridor, Chad began working the combination to Angel’s locker.

  Chapter 27

  HE SUDDEN CHANGE IN THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE cafeteria told Angel that her cousin had finally come in. Yet it wasn’t anything she could really put her finger on, it wasn’t that the temperature changed, or a cold draft swept through, or even that the hum of conversation changed. No, it was something subtler.

  A creepy feeling that made her skin tingle.

  A sense of apprehension, as if some unseen threat was lurking close by.

  “Here they come,” Seth said sourly, glancing toward the food line where Zack, Chad Jackson, and Jared Woods were grabbing whatever food was left as Mrs. Carelli began clearing out the steam table. “Just as I was starting to think we might actually make it through lunch hour without even seeing them.”

  Angel didn’t have to turn around to feel them looking at her, and seeing the puzzled expression on Seth’s face, her odd feeling of foreboding grew stronger. “They’re doing something, aren’t they?”

  Seth’s brow furrowed. “They keep looking over here—at least Chad Jackson does. And he’s got this weird look on his face, like he’s trying not to laugh. And every time he starts to lose it, Zack’s punching at him.”

  “What about Jared?”

  “He looks like he just puked his brains out. I mean, his face is all pasty and he looks sick.”

  Her curiosity overcoming her apprehension, Angel turned to get a look at the three boys, all of whom quickly turned away from her.

  Her feeling of apprehension deepened. “How come they looked away when I turned around?” she asked.

  Seth shrugged. “How should I know? Maybe they’re embarrassed that you caught them talking about you.”

  Angel and Seth stared at each other for a couple of seconds, and then the absurdity of what Seth had said got the better of both of them and they began giggling. “And maybe Chad’s going to invite me on a date, and maybe Heather Dunne’s going to ask you to the Sadie Hawkins Dance.”

  “And maybe pigs really can fly!” Seth added. “Okay, so what’s going on?”

  Angel shrugged. “I don’t know. But the weird thing is, I felt something when they first came in. I mean, I didn’t even see them, or hear them, or anything, but just before you looked up, I felt something.”

  “Felt something like what?”

  “I don’t know,” Angel said again. “It’s just a weird feeling—like something bad’s going to happen.”

  “That’s not weird,” Seth said. “That’s just reality. It sucks, but what are we supposed to do about it?”

  Angel shrugged, and as Zack and his friends threaded their way toward their regular table, they went back to their lunch. “You want to go over to the old churchyard after school and see if we can find a grave for Forbearance Wynton?”

  Angel cocked her head. “Why would there be one? If they burned her as a witch, they wouldn’t bury her in the churchyard, would they?”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “So if we find her grave, we know they didn’t think she was a witch, right? At least we’ll know more than we do so far.”

  “Okay,” Angel said. “Unless . . .”

  “Unless what?”

  Angel glanced at Zack and his friends, who seemed to have forgotten about her. Yet she still had that strange feeling that something was wrong, that something was going to happen. She let out the breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding in a long sigh. “Nothing, I guess. I’ll meet you after school.”

  The bell ending lunch hour rang a few minutes later, and as she picked up her backpack, Angel glanced one last time at her cousin.

  This time, their eyes met.

  And she saw a dark, cruel glint, as if he knew something.

  But what?

  As his eyes remained fixed on her, and the strange feeling of apprehension gripped her once again, Angel turned away and hurried out of the cafeteria.

  The day wore on, and by the time the last bell rang, Angel was beginning to wonder if she’d just been imagining things in the cafeteria. But when she came to the second floor landing and started toward her locker, she knew that she hadn’t.

  Zack and his friends were clumped around Zack’s locker, and though he tried not to be as obvious as he’d been in the cafeteria, Chad Jackson kept glancing at her as she started down the hall toward her own locker.

  And she was certain Zack was trying not to laugh.

  As she drew closer to her locker, the strange feeling of apprehension grew stronger.

  Her locker!

  Had they done something to it?

  She remembered last year, when someone sprayed paint through the vents of her locker back in Eastbury.

  Her step slowed.

  Maybe she
shouldn’t even open it, she thought. The only thing inside was the heavy history book she didn’t want to lug around all afternoon, and since Mr. McDowell hadn’t given them homework tonight, she didn’t need to take it home.

  She glanced back at Zack, Chad, and Jared.

  Jared was gone.

  But Zack and Chad had been watching her. And they’d done something—she could tell by their postures and expressions, with Chad trying too hard to look innocent.

  Making up her mind, she turned away from her locker, hurried back down the stairs, and left the school by the front door. Seth was waiting for her. “I think they did something to my locker,” she said as they started down the steps and across the lawn. They walked toward the cemetery behind the Congregational church, and Angel told him how they had stood around, eyeing her as if hiding a secret, when she’d gone to her locker.

  “What are you going to do?” Seth asked. “You have to open it sometime.”

  “I know,” Angel said. “I just didn’t want to open it with them standing right there. I just didn’t—” Her words caught as a lump rose in her throat.

  “How about we go back after we look in the cemetery?” Seth said. “They’ll be gone by then, and whatever they did, we’ll clean it up. Okay?”

  Angel nodded, still struggling to control the sob in her throat. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? What had she ever done to them?

  And what had they done to her locker?

  Ten minutes later they were standing at the gate to the old cemetery that was all but hidden behind the Congregational church. An enormous tree loomed in the exact center of it. Nearly bare of leaves now, its branches were silhouetted against the sky, its trunk was absolutely straight, and its canopy was almost perfectly round.

  Angel stared at it for several long seconds. “How do they keep it looking like that?” she finally asked.

  Seth grinned at her. “They don’t—it just grows that way. It’s supposed to be the tree the town was named for.”

  “But trees don’t grow that way.”

  “That one does,” Seth said. “Come on—the oldest part of the cemetery’s over there.”

 

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