Cruel Summer

by James Dawson

  Greg clipped the belt around Roxanne’s waist and pulled it as tight as it’d go. There was no further need for cumbersome ropes and bed sheets; the sleek belt would be sufficient to weigh the body down. ‘There.’

  There was a moment of silence. Everyone knew what came next.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ Ben looked to Greg.

  ‘I don’t bloody know. It’s not like I do this shit every week, you know. I guess we just tip her over the side.’

  ‘Wait,’ Ryan said. ‘Don’t you think we should all make a pact or something? Like swear that we’ll take it to the grave?’

  ‘You watch way too much TV,’ Alisha said bitterly. ‘As if any of us are ever going to bring this up.’

  Katie was still in the drivers’ seat, quietly resigned. ‘You know, it’s still not too late. The police don’t ever have to know we brought her out on the boat. We could put her back in the pool.’

  ‘No,’ Erin said matter-of-factly. ‘They’ll know now. They’ll be able to tell how long she’s been dead, and then they’ll know we’re lying.’

  ‘So we’re stuck,’ Ryan concluded. ‘We’ve gone too far to back out now.’

  ‘Exactly. We need to finish the job.’ Greg loaded the rocks he’d placed on the boat earlier onto the sheet that had been wrapped around Rox. Then he tied the corners together to create a sack and threw it over the side of the boat. ‘That takes care of the sheet,’ he said. ‘Now, come on!’ He manoeuvred himself to Roxanne’s head and once more slipped his hands under her arms. ‘God, she’s heavy, now!’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ Ryan said as he and Ben helped to haul her to the left side of the boat. Ryan had no idea if that was starboard or port, but it was the side furthest away from the villa and the shore.

  ‘Do you think we should say something?’ Katie wondered. ‘Like a prayer, maybe?’

  ‘Was she religious?’ Erin asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Katie shrugged.

  Ryan looked at Roxanne. There was so much they didn’t know about her and never would. They all paused because a pause was required. The three men looked at each other. There wasn’t a word for what Ryan was feeling. It was dark, it was awful, but it was as exciting as any taboo ever is. There’s always a thrill in going too far.

  ‘Just do it,’ Greg breathed.

  And, between them, they lifted Roxanne’s body over the edge of the boat and let her fall.

  The sea was hungry. Blackness swallowed her. It all happened so fast and Ryan couldn’t help feeling that something so huge shouldn’t be over so quickly. The speed made it seem inconsequential. The weights at Roxanne’s waist tugged her down at once so that, within a second, her body had vanished, followed by her lovely face. Her hair trailed above and, finally, her ice-white hands sunk out of sight.

  The sea claimed Roxanne Dent, but the last thing Ryan saw going under was Katie Grant’s charm bracelet.

  SCENE 22 – RYAN

  He was so entranced by the weird beauty of Roxanne sinking, that Katie’s scream almost tipped him over the edge.

  ‘She’s wearing my bracelet!’ Katie leaped to her feet, rocking the boat.

  It took a moment for the information to sink in, longer than it had taken the dead girl to sink in, anyway.

  Greg shrugged. ‘It’s only a bracelet.’

  Ryan jolted to his feet. ‘No! It’s got Katie’s name on it. If someone finds it . . .’

  ‘Shit!’ Greg exploded.

  After what they’d just done, there was no way Ryan was letting a bloody bracelet ruin everything. Without a word, he pulled his hat off, climbed up onto the edge of the boat and dived in.

  He held his breath and waited for the cold to hit him. Hit him it did.

  To say the water was cold didn’t do it justice. He had to resurface. The ice water hurt his bones and his jaw shook with a violent judder. ‘Oh, my God, that’s cold!’ he cried before diving back under. How quickly would she sink? The weight belt had been heavy. He kicked down with all the force his legs could muster. He could just make out Roxanne’s white-blonde hair below him. She was going down fast.

  But she could no longer swim and Ryan could. As he kicked further, deeper, the water became blacker and more claustrophobic. It was like swimming into a vacuum. In the darkness, Roxanne was a beacon.

  Ryan’s chest felt swollen. His cheeks puffed out and he started to release precious air one tiny bubble at a time. He was not letting her get away. As stiff as she was, her arms floated at her sides, the gleaming bracelet almost mocking him. Can’t catch me . . . His leg muscles burned and his eyes stung. Salt water caught at the back of his throat.

  Fingers outstretched, he grazed her hand, but then it slipped away again, like gas. Another kick and he caught hold of her hair. Harsh, but helpful. He almost climbed down her body, taking hold of the bracelet. There was only one way it was coming off. Sorry Katie . . . Ryan yanked on the chain as hard as he could, but it didn’t budge. The first whispers of panic fluttered in his head. He needed to breathe. He needed to get back to the surface.

  That was when it brushed against his bare legs – something smooth, slick and muscular. Something moving. Something swimming.

  Air tore from his lungs in horror. Not caring whether he ripped the girl’s hand off, Ryan wrenched his arm back. The bracelet broke and links scattered. He palmed what was left and flailed around, looking for whatever had grazed him. He saw only black water.

  But Ryan was certain that there was something in the water with him. He kicked for the surface with frantic vigour, hoping to scare whatever it was away. The white rectangle of the boat was right overhead. He would have to swim out to avoid coming up directly underneath. He steered himself diagonally, the water thinning with moonlight as he neared the surface.

  He broke into the air with a scream. ‘Get me out! Shark!’

  That did the trick. About ten arms shot over the edge of the boat. He seized whichever were nearest and allowed them to drag him out of the water. He fell into the boat and panted, waiting for his vision to stop whirling. He couldn’t move. He was spent.

  Questions came thick and fast, but he couldn’t focus.

  ‘Ryan?’ It was Katie. ‘Ryan?’

  He coughed, the taste of salt all the way to his stomach. ‘I got it.’

  ‘Where is it?’ Katie’s eyes were full of hope. Ryan realised they’d wanted the bracelet back for very different reasons.

  ‘I’m sorry, I had to break it to get it off.’ He handed her the remains. Katie nodded, but couldn’t completely hide her disappointment.

  ‘There was a shark?’ Alisha asked, helping him upright.

  ‘I don’t know. There was something. It felt big.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Greg said. ‘Sharks are good.’

  Ben ignored them all, gazing out over the sea. Who knew what he was looking for? ‘We did it. We actually did it,’ he muttered.

  An awful silence followed. Somewhere in the distance a buoy clanged, reminiscent of church bells. Ryan couldn’t bear it. It wasn’t that he was scared of awkward silences— Oh, who was he kidding? He was terrified of awkward silences. ‘So!’ he said brightly. ‘Who’s for sangria?’ The others ignored him. ‘Just me, then?’

  ‘Come on,’ Greg shouted. ‘Let’s get the hell out of here before the coastguard sees us.’

  Katie didn’t move for a second, fixated on the sad remains of the bracelet in her hands. Then, coming back to life, she returned to the pilot’s seat and started the motor.

  ‘Wait.’ Erin unfolded her legs. ‘What about the bottle?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Chuck it over the edge.’ Greg looked at Ryan.

  ‘Well, I haven’t got it,’ Ryan replied, sopping wet and clutching his body for warmth. He should really get the wet clothes off before he caught hypothermia and they had another body to deal with.

  ‘Mate, I told you to bring it.’

  ‘No, you didn’t.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘You didn’t.’
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  Katie spun the wheel as hard as it would go, making the boat swing round so violently that both boys staggered, close to going overboard. ‘For God’s sake! It doesn’t matter!’ Katie snapped. ‘The sodding bottle doesn’t matter! And will someone please give Ryan some dry clothes before he freezes to death?’ The tone of her voice silenced them.

  ‘I support that notion.’

  Greg picked himself up off the floor of the boat and threw Ryan his hoodie. ‘We’ll get rid of the bottle with her stuff.’

  ‘How are we going to do that?’ Erin asked. She looked so different. Without her make-up, she had tiny little eyes, puffy from crying.

  ‘We’ll have another bonfire. Tomorrow night,’ Greg replied.

  Nothing more was said. They’d all said way too much already. Greg wrapped an arm around Erin. Katie drove in silence, her hair blowing behind her. Ryan sat next to Alisha, but she looked out over the ocean, unwilling to engage with the rest of them.

  The boat chugged back towards the jetty, the coastline coming back into focus. Ryan worried that someone must have seen them. A lone boat in the empty bay must stick out a mile, even without lights. The clean, white vessel probably shone against the inky sea. Ryan hoped any onlookers would just think they were a load of drunk kids having a party-boat night. If they’d been really clever, they’d have brought some beers out with them. The coastguard would have frowned upon it, but probably a lot less than they frowned on dumping corpses.

  Because that was what they’d just done.

  Suddenly, Alisha sprang up like an excited puppy. She leaned over the side of the boat, looking towards the villa. A mane of curls blew around her head. ‘Oh, my God! Look!’

  ‘What?’ Everyone seemed grateful for the distraction.

  Alisha pointed to the shore. ‘There’s someone outside the villa.’

  Ryan felt his heart drop through the bottom of his stomach. ‘Katie, stop the boat.’

  She twisted the key in the ignition and the boat choked to a halt.

  ‘There can’t be!’ Ben exclaimed.

  But there was. The outside lights were all off, but the interior lights had been left on, and now a silhouette could be clearly seen, making its way around the outskirts of the property. The shadow moved from window to window. Dark hands traced the glass, trying to get in.

  ‘We’re screwed,’ Greg breathed.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Ryan said. ‘It’s fine. We cleaned everything up.’

  ‘Everybody get down.’ Ben ducked beneath the side of the boat. ‘They might just go away.’

  They were too far from the beach to see properly. The figure was nothing more than a stick-man prowling around the house. The ghost-like figure peered inside, like Cathy looking for Heathcliff – only it was looking for them.

  ‘Can they see us?’ Erin whispered.

  ‘No way. We’re too far out, right?’ Ben replied, his forehead creased with worry.

  The silhouette slunk down the side of the house, moving closer to the beach with every step. ‘Katie, were you expecting anyone?’ Ryan asked.

  ‘No. I have no idea who it is.’ In the pale moonlight, Katie’s fraught face took on an almost blueish tinge. It was quite beautiful.

  ‘Did you call the police?’ There was a hint of a threat in Greg’s voice.

  ‘I swear I didn’t.’

  As the figure neared the sand, moonlight lit her. It was a woman. A breeze blew dark hair around her face – long, chestnut hair. The wind chime played a tuneless, haunting song as she stood in front of the patio doors, looking out to the sea. The mystery girl held a hand to her eyes and scanned the horizon.

  There was something familiar about the way she moved, the way she stood. An overwhelming wave of déjà vu hit Ryan as he stared at her across the water. ‘No way!’

  Katie gasped. ‘Is that . . .’

  Forgetting that he was supposed to be hiding, Ryan leaned as far as he could over the edge of the boat, his eyes straining. It wasn’t possible.

  A sliver of ghostly moonlight hit the contours of the woman’s face and Ryan almost tumbled overboard.

  It was Janey.

  SCENE 23 – RYAN

  It was Janey: the hair, the body, the stance. The way she stood, resting on her hip so that it jutted to the left, as if the world were wasting her time. Ryan’s brain malfunctioned. One part of him was thrilled to see his old friend – he wanted to wave and call her name – but another part knew he must be seeing a ghost, something impossible, something dead.

  He reviewed the possibilities . . .

  1. Janey had a long-lost twin. Maybe she’d been trying to tell them something with the Shana/Lana thing.

  2. It was a ghost. No. Even Ryan wasn’t messed up enough to think that a supernatural element was about to creep in. It wasn’t that kind of show.

  3. Somehow Janey had survived – or never fallen in the first place – and now here she was! (If that was the case, what had they buried?)

  The figure stared out to sea but, if she did see the boat, her eyes didn’t linger on it. Her hand fell to her side and, resigned, she moved up the other side of the house, heading back towards the front entrance. A moment later, Janey melted back into the shadows and Ryan allowed himself to breathe again.

  ‘That’s impossible.’ Ben’s lips were the same ghastly white as his face.

  Greg ran forwards, tripping over his own feet in his rush to reach the driver’s seat. ‘Katie, go!’

  ‘What? Where?’

  ‘Go! Drive! Sail! We need to catch her. We don’t know how long she’s been there. She might have seen us.’ Beads of sweat shone on Greg’s forehead.

  Katie’s jaw dropped. ‘Greg, that was Janey. Janey’s alive!’

  ‘It can’t have been.’

  ‘It was!’ Alisha cried. ‘You saw her. It looked exactly like her.’

  ‘But . . . but . . . she’s dead,’ Ben murmured, staring at the villa, unblinking.

  Greg screwed his eyes shut. ‘I don’t bloody care whether it’s Janey or not. We just need to get back to the villa NOW!’

  Katie twisted the key in the ignition and they were off.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Ryan exclaimed suddenly. A magnificent epiphany had just come to him and something about it felt right. ‘What if she did it?’

  No one had to ask what action he was referring to.

  ‘You think Janey killed Roxanne?’ Alisha asked.

  ‘Well, why not? Janey is meant to be dead, but for some reason she’s creeping around outside the villa. What if she was creeping around outside the villa last night, too?’

  ‘But why?’ Katie said, sounding exasperated. Her hair hung in damp ropes around her face, the sea mist clinging to it. ‘Why would she?’

  ‘Because we left her.’ It all made sense to Ryan now. ‘What if she never fell? Or what if she fell but didn’t die? We all abandoned her at the prom and this is her revenge . . . Or something.’ Ryan tailed off. It sounded a little far-fetched now that he came to say it aloud.

  Ben actually laughed. ‘OK, you’ve finally lost the plot. That was not Janey.’

  ‘It was,’ Alisha put in.

  Greg clenched his fists. ‘Who cares?’ he barked. ‘Whoever it was might have just seen us throw a dead body into the sea. We have got to stop her before she calls the cops. Katie, speed this thing up.’

  Ryan thought it best not to ask how Greg intended to stop her from calling the cops.

  Katie was no expert and the boat very nearly ploughed all the way through the jetty. If there weren’t dead girls everywhere tonight, it might have been quite funny, mused Ryan as they clung to the rails for dear life.

  As soon as they were close enough, Greg jumped off the vessel and sprinted towards the villa with Alisha and Erin close behind, leaving Ryan and Katie to deal with the boat.

  Ben was dumbstruck – staring out at the sea, but not seeing it. He was doing a chillingly realistic impression of a zombie right now.

  ‘Ben? Benj, are you OK?’ Ryan
asked.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said but, privately, Ryan thought he was in a whole different postcode from ‘fine’.

  Katie killed the engine, left her seat and held out a hand for Ben. If she couldn’t get through to him, no one could. ‘Come on,’ she said, her voice as soft as cotton wool. He took her hand but said nothing. ‘Let’s not . . . let’s not assume anything, OK? Just because Janey’s back doesn’t mean she . . .’

  ‘We don’t know what she wants,’ Ryan added, ‘so let’s go find out. It’s Janey! She’s back.’

  Ben nodded and helped Katie off the boat. From the jetty, Ryan could see that Greg, Erin and Alisha had almost reached the villa. He hurriedly tied up the boat.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said and, together, the three of them raced down the jetty, the boards groaning under their weight. They reached the stone path, flip-flops clacking over the paving slabs. There was a patch of skin where the rubber strap chafed Ryan’s still-wet toe, but he couldn’t worry about the sting now.

  Greg was already charging around the perimeter of the house by the time they reached the bottom terrace. Ryan pounded up the stairs to the top terrace and opened the patio doors, noting that they weren’t locked. That meant Janey could be inside – how very ‘horror film’. Once in, Ryan switched on the outside lights. The lamps on the terraces and around the pool came alive.

  His shoulders tensed as he peered outside, his mind half-expecting to see a vengeful dead girl, but Janey, if that’s who it had been, was nowhere in sight.

  ‘Janey!’ Alisha yelled from the right-hand path at the side of the house. ‘Janey, where are you? It’s us.’ Ryan left the kitchen and followed the sound of Alisha’s voice.

  Katie joined him while Ben went the other way in search of Greg.

  ‘Did you see her? Was she here?’ Ryan asked as he and Katie caught up with Alisha.