by Jo Treggiari
“Frankly, I’m surprised that you came.” His expression was so smug. She bunched her fists.
She welcomed the anger, felt it flare in her belly. She got right up in his face. If he had hurt Lynn, she’d kill him with her bare hands.
“What do you want from me?” she said. “Let’s get this over with.” Her saliva hit his cheek; he wiped it away.
He gave her an odd look and then spun on his heel and strode away.
“Come back,” she yelled.
“Come back,” Jack Rourke echoed in a high-pitched voice. Ari jumped in surprise. She’d been so focused on Jesse that she hadn’t heard Jack approach. He slid his gaze up and down her body and sniggered.
“Where’s Bellows?” someone asked him. Ari’s ears pricked up.
“Dunno. Hungover,” Jack said. “Late, as usual.”
Neither he nor his friends seemed concerned. The news must not have gotten around yet. Ari moaned and leaned against a locker. Her stomach was killing her. A tentacle of pain wrapped around her skull.
Jack tossed a paper airplane across the hallway to one of his buddies, making every passerby duck. He threw low and it clocked Ari on the head. She winced even though it was soft and light and no worse than being pegged by an eraser. Still, he’d had this gloating expression on his face and she knew it was no accident. Making eye contact with her, he threw another one, aiming straight for her face. She bent down to pick it up and unfolded it. Lynn’s happy face smiled up at her. It was one of the missing persons flyers. A couple of girls nearby breathed in sharply and directed shocked glances at Jack. The whispering got louder, buzzing in Ari’s skull. She stared into her friend’s eyes.
Dr. McNamara reached over and snatched the flyer from her hand. “Practice some restraint, Mr. Rourke,” she said, crumpling it up. She opened the door. “Now, hurry up, Bio 403. Mr. Rourke and entourage, you too. The rest of you,” she yelled, “get to your respective classes now.” The hallway emptied out.
Ari followed Dr. McNamara in and took her seat. Her heart was hammering and the white explosions had started up in her periphery again, like miniature cannons firing. She felt as if she might jump out of her skin.
On his way to his desk, Jack slowed down. “Girlfriend missing, Sullivan?” he said. “Party too hard? Did you leave her passed out up at the cabin?” He spoke so softly that Ari wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said.
“What?” she stammered. “What did you say?”
Dr. McNamara clapped her hands together and Ari started. “Settle down, students. Take your places immediately.”
Smirking, Jack loafed over to the back row nearest the bank of windows. He spread his legs wide and swiveled in his chair so that he was facing the door. It also put Ari directly in his line of vision. She lowered her head, covering her face with her hair.
“I have an announcement to make,” Dr. McNamara said. “All students must remain on campus for the full day. If you have a spare, go to the library.” She then chose two students to start wheeling the garbage cans out of the storage cupboard, and soon the familiar smell of formaldehyde and decay filled the room. It crawled into Ari’s nostrils, took her straight back to the grove. She focused on her hands splayed out on top of her desk and commanded her brain to think logically.
Dr. McNamara? The teacher had her back to the class and was covering the board in a series of numbered queries. “Ask yourselves, what is the purpose of this particular organ? What am I looking at?” she said over her shoulder. “And how does it all fit together?” Ari pondered, feeling her brain wake up a little. Facts are incontrovertible, Lynn would say. The teacher was trapped at school. She couldn’t just leave. And she’d have had to fill out tons of paperwork and go through criminal checks to even get her job in the first place. She eliminated her from the list.
So what about…? She pushed her hair back and stared over her shoulder at Jack, who just so happened to be looking in her direction. She felt rage start to simmer. Two could play at this game. When you confronted a strange dog, you did not break eye contact first. That was giving over your power. Even though she could feel Jack’s animosity, thick as a flannel shirt, she kept her gaze on him until he looked away. Down boy, she thought triumphantly.
Next up: Jesse. He’d been following her—no, stalking her ever since she’d discovered the pet killings. At the maze his hands had been dirty, as if he’d been burying something out there. She tapped her lip. Stroud was an enigma. Everything was pointing to his being alive. But surely he couldn’t just show up here? Not with most of the force out looking for him?
The cops were watching the exits and entrances, though. They weren’t patrolling the halls.
She thought of the long corridors between classes, the storage closets, and the often-empty labs. He, whichever “he” it was, had plenty of opportunity. She’d scream, she decided. Even if she couldn’t fight him off, she’d scream until there was no more breath left in her body. She felt a scream building now. She couldn’t face the cats. Not now, not ever.
Without knowing how, she was on her feet, swaying a little in place. Dr. McNamara stared at her.
“Ari, what’s going on?”
“The nurse,” Ari mumbled, slipping her bag over her shoulder.
The teacher nodded impatiently and pointed toward the door. “Come back quickly,” she said. “We’ve got a lot to cover.”
She felt Jack’s eyes on her every step of the way.
At least she knew where he was for the next while. She checked the windows into the other classrooms until she found Jesse. He was tapping his fingers on the desk and staring out the window. Biding his time?
She forced herself to concentrate harder. The killer was toying with her, but he wanted to communicate. He liked issuing the instructions and she was positive he knew where she was right now, so how would he get in touch if he needed to? Another text? She could access a computer.
The computer lab was directly across the hall. It was unoccupied. She went in and powered up the closest monitor, leaving the ceiling lights off so that she wouldn’t be immediately noticeable to a casual passerby. Twisting her fingers nervously, she waited for it to come online, and then keyed in her information. She clicked over to her email account and scrolled down the new messages. She let her breath out with a sigh. Fuck! Nothing but spam and some social media alerts. It was the waiting that was killing her. She logged out, staring at the blinking dot in the lower corner. It pulsed in time with the headache clamped at the back of her skull.
She went to the nurse’s office. At least she could get some meds and an excuse note.
“I have a really bad headache,” she told Mrs. Amherst.
The nurse nodded. “Your parents sent in a copy of the doctor’s report. Any other complaints? Dizziness, confusion?”
“No, just the headache.” It wasn’t untrue at this point.
“Do you want to lie down?” the nurse asked, taking a closer look at her.
“Something for the pain, maybe? And a hall pass.”
“All right, but let me know if it gets worse,” she said, handing over a packet of painkillers and a slip of paper.
Leaving the nurse’s office felt like walking with a giant bull’s-eye on her back. She wouldn’t go back to class but she had to get out of the hallway. She pushed the bathroom door open. Thankfully it was empty.
I look like a crazy person, she thought as she gazed at her reflection. Her eyes sunken into her skull, shadowed and weary, her hair lank, her hands trembling. A tiny muscle twitched in the corner of her eye. She swallowed the pills and leaned her forehead against the cool of the mirror.
Her plan, her detective work, seemed ridiculous now. If Jesse was the killer, or Jack, would they be at school like normal teenagers? Would they be taunting her, playing games, acting like typical assholes? Yes, if either of them were a psychopath.
Gacy held a job, had a family, she recalled. Ted Bundy haunted college campuses. Predators go where the prey goes. She was the hunted, s
he thought as she stared at her reflection, and foolishly she had thought she had some measure of control. Maybe this was all one giant nothing, engineered to drive her nuts, and in the meantime Lynn was scared, maybe hurt? She kicked the trash bin, mashing her toes but not caring.
The smell of dead cats seemed to cling to her. She splashed her face with cold water and felt a little more alert.
What to do? In about fifteen minutes the bell would ring for next class. His message had said to meet him in the morning. Make a decision, Ari. Go to your locker and wait, she thought. Wait and watch for Jack, for Jesse, for Stroud. Wait for whoever it is to come out of the shadows and play.
* * *
Turns out the sitting duck thing was near impossible to pull off. Ari’s muscles were spasming, wanting to move, to fight, to flee. She leaned against her locker and picked at the skin around her nails, counting seconds under her breath, watching the minute hand on her watch crawl around. Very faintly, from the next-door cubicle—Lynn’s locker—she could smell the lemony conditioner her friend used. It tugged at her heart.
When the bell rang she tensed, arms wrapped tight around her torso. Students crowded into the hallway, pressing against her, a bustling hive of activity. The fluorescent lights seemed blindingly bright, and the scents of sweaty armpits, new sneakers, hairspray, cologne and cleaning bleach were overwhelming. Impossibly, she tried to avoid contact with the bodies milling around her.
She wanted to scream, There’s a fucking serial killer on the loose and you’re all in danger, but she clamped her lips over her teeth.
The warning bell rang. Jack moved down the hall. She shadowed him to Government class and waited until he took his seat. Unless he left early with some excuse, she was assured of his location for the next forty minutes. Since she was in the general area, she checked out Jesse’s locker. The paint spelling out weirdo was chipped and fading, but someone had carved the letters into the metal with something sharp. She wondered if Jesse had done it himself. It seemed likely.
She hovered, feeling very conspicuous. He didn’t show. Two freshman girls, looking impossibly young, stared at her and whispered behind their hands as they packed up their books. She stared back at them, trying to remember when she had been that clueless and realizing with some sadness that it hadn’t been very long ago. Suddenly, she wanted more than anything to protect them. “Be careful out there,” she said as they strolled past her. They exchanged incredulous glances, and Ari wanted to sink into the wall.
She darted back into the computer lab and checked her account. No new messages. She scrolled up and down, as if maybe a clue was hiding somewhere on the screen, her fingers fumbling on the keys. Her heart zipped along like she’d OD’d on espresso.
“Hey, you’re on my computer,” a freckly girl said.
“Sorry,” she muttered, and went back out into the corridor.
She checked her watch again. She was going to be late for English, which was on the next floor in the east block. She decided to take a shortcut, going up the back stairs and through the old gymnasium. A new state-of-the-art gym had been built on the other side of the school, but time had run out over the summer to finish the reconstruction on this one. Her shoes echoed on the rungs as she climbed the three short flights and entered the gym through a side door. A window high above was shattered. She could hear pigeons warbling in the rafters, and there were feathers and spatters of pigeon shit on the basketball court.
This had been a huge mistake, she thought to herself. Coming to school, going to class, waiting on tenterhooks for something to happen. Maybe this hadn’t been a trap at all, but just a way to fuck with her head and throw her off balance. It was working.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that at first she wasn’t aware of the footsteps behind her. She slowed, unsure. Was it just an echo? She stopped completely and heard the squeak of a shoe sole on polished wood as someone else stopped too. She froze on the center-court line, waiting to see who appeared. The seconds ticked by, dread building. And now all pretense was abandoned. She ran as fast as she could and the footsteps pounded after her. Across the court to the double doors at the other side. She reached them, out of breath, and pushed on the bar. The doors moved slightly but did not open. She heaved and shoved again, putting all her weight behind her efforts. There was some kind of latch at the bottom, grooved into the floor. She could see the end of the metal bolt, but her fingers were wooden and she clawed at it fruitlessly, unable to dislodge it.
The footsteps halted. She felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck.
She whirled around, throwing her hands in front of her defensively.
It was Miranda Taylor, and she looked angry.
Ari lowered her arms, looking past the other girl. “Miranda! God, I was sure it was him.” The adrenaline left her in a rush and she slumped against the door.
“What the hell’s going on, Ari?”
“Someone chasing me. Jesse Caldwell, I think,” Ari panted. “Did you see him?”
Miranda shook her head impatiently. “I came to find you.”
“Why?”
Miranda moved closer. “Do you know where Stroud is?”
“No,” Ari said slowly. “Do you?”
“He wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“And? It’s not like he’d check in with me.”
“I know you were with him on Friday, partying or whatever.”
Ari’s mouth felt as if it were stuffed with cotton. “You’re saying I was with Stroud on Friday?” Her thoughts were racing. He had been at the cabin. That memory was a true one, but why had they been there together, and how had they gotten there? The holes that remained in her recollection of events were maddening.
Miranda made a noise like a small explosion. “Jesus, Ari, he texted me and said you were. He didn’t want me to join him. Wouldn’t even tell me where you guys were hanging out.” She screwed her lips up. “And now he’s missing. You’re probably the last person who saw him.”
“What about Jack? Did you ask him?”
Miranda waved her hands impatiently. “Jack is a liar. He can’t be trusted. He actually used that ‘bros before hoes’ line on me.” Her face crumpled. “You must know something.”
Ari swallowed hard. “I’m worried. I think something bad has happened to him. The cops have put out an alert.” Had it been Stroud who had led her to the cistern? She thought back to the dumbass she had been. She would have followed him anywhere; she would have jumped at the chance. Her hand went up to the wound above her ear. It was throbbing, shooting out spikes of pain.
“Why were you even together?” Miranda demanded. She sounded to Ari as if she were speaking from the other side of a sheet of glass. Ari wondered if she was about to gray out.
Distantly she heard the bell ring.
Miranda gave her one more outraged look and stalked away, her back stiff.
Ari drew a deep breath and steadied herself against the railing. She walked back down the stairs in a daze, assaulted by her thoughts. It was hard not to feel as if they were all walking around in a fog. Only one person knew what was going on, and she had to find him.
She decided to get rid of her backpack. She stopped at her locker and opened it. It was chaotic as always, a jumble of sports bags and books and paper at the bottom. It smelled of chlorine and moldy towels. She was always forgetting to take them home for laundering. The inside of the door was covered in photos of her and Lynn. Every single moment of Ari’s life that had in any way been special included Lynn. This was her existence, her trajectory so far, mapped out in snapshots. She stroked a finger over Lynn’s face, freckled from the sun, the summer before this one. The lens had caught her in the middle of talking and laughing, a state that was common for her, but even so, Ari could remember what they’d been talking about. Child stars and the fucked up messes they made of their lives.
She dropped the bag and had begun to swing her locker shut when she spotted the slip of paper on the floor. It must have been we
dged in the door and fallen out. She picked it up and unfolded it. A handwritten note, with a heart scrawled on one side. She turned it over. Rural Route 4, exit 20, Tanner’s Way at Kissing Bridge. The yellow house. Come alone, Ari.
She crushed it in her hand, slammed the locker shut with such force that it rebounded. She shoved it closed again and struck it with the flat of her hand, leaning her forehead against it.
What the fuck?! Hours wasted. She hated this feeling of being a pawn, a puppet dancing on strings. I don’t want to go. “You have to go, Ari.” She straightened up.
Tanner’s Way. She had some idea where exit 20 was but she was drawing a blank on the rest of the address. She could google it.
She ran down the hall to the computer lab. It was packed with students tapping away at their keyboards, a teacher pacing between the desks. She wanted to scream. Her nerves were worn to shreds and her determination was in tatters. She took a couple of deep breaths, kept walking, looking into classrooms as she passed. Dr. McNamara was in the middle of another lesson, writing something on the board below a detailed drawing of a dissected frog. She kept an eye open for Jack and Jesse but didn’t see either one.
Fuck it. Enough of this cat-and-mouse shit, she thought, stopping just inside the entrance to the main floor. She needed to get home to her computer right now. She could look for some kind of weapon as well, even if it was just a hammer.
She remembered the cops standing guard on the steps. How could she slip away? She needed a diversion. Without pausing to reconsider, she pulled the fire alarm.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I am pondering my recent errors in judgment. Strength has nothing to do with the physical. The body might be strong, as his was, but if the spirit is weak then nothing can keep you alive. He died before I could even get to work on him. I wanted to practice my knife skills on a living subject. Play around with various methods of display. He was drunk and high from the drugs I’d given him, but still conscious. When I sat down beside him, he laughed nervously and tried to move away, but the couch was snug and his legs were weak.