by Spear, Terry
“My grandmother said he pushed her.”
“A ghost?” Emily’s skin chilled.
“She thought so. But I don’t. The mist covered the deck that morning. Tired from lack of sleep, she imagined she saw a ghost. I figured maybe you read her mind and saw what she thought happened.”
“No.” Emily grabbed her book bag. “She hides her thoughts from me, but freely reads mine.”
“I, well, I’m not really a big believer in ghosts, Emily.”
Her heart sank, but she was glad he was honest with her. “So, you don’t think what I see is real?”
“No, I don’t mean that. Just that, it’s hard to believe in something I can’t see. But I trust you have some connection with the spirit world.” He took a heavy breath. “I feel I’m not a real help to you because of it.”
“I really appreciate all your help.”
“I thought we could do some research at the library today. We need to find out who she was,” he said.
Her stomach untwisted. Even if he didn’t believe one-hundred percent, he was willing to go along with it. “And the one who pushed your grandmother?”
“I’m not convinced anything did. The decks were wet. And Granny added soapy water. She’s not as spry as she used to be. She could easily have slipped without any help from wicked spirits.”
But Emily wasn’t convinced. “You saw nothing in your premonition about what happened?”
“Only that she fell. Not where, when, or how.” He closed and locked the car door, then took her book bag from her. “Ready to wow them with our brilliance?”
“Yours maybe. Remember, I can only read minds. I don’t have a photographic memory like you. Everything I do in school has to be learned through hard work and lots of study.”
“Yeah, I could tell you were the studious kind.”
She rolled her eyes as they walked toward technology class. “What does that mean? I’m boring? Just because I do my schoolwork…”
“Boring?” He laughed out loud. “You’re the most interesting girl I’ve ever met.”
She smiled. He sure knew how to say the right words sometimes. Now, if he could see ghosts, he’d be perfect.
They caught sight of Red walking to the class. Emily whispered to Michael, “You do know some form of martial arts…you know, to protect me if I need you to?”
He whispered back, his heated breath tickling her ear and sending a trickle of warmth through her, “I’m a genius, remember. I use my mind to deal with difficult situations, not brute strength.”
I’m doomed. “Ah, but martial arts are used to disable your opponents with brilliantly placed maneuvers, not brute strength.”
“I’ll protect you.”
In the hallway today, no problem. But what about the premonition Michael had in which she had to face the bullies on her own? Like his notion of coming up with a plan to help the ghost girl find peace, she had to decide how she could handle the three bullies at one time alone. Michael and the ghost girl had warned her. She was certain the time was coming soon. What would cause Michael to leave her alone to face them? Another attack on his grandmother?
She wasn’t sure Michael believed a ghost hadn’t done it, either. There were two ghosts she had to deal with—maybe more. Had the developers built on sacred ground? Or worse? On a pirate’s claimed territory?
The pirate’s treasure. Was it the key?
“Michael,” she whispered when they took their seats in class, “after researching the ghosts, we have to find out who the pirates were that made their home where our development is.”
“Pirates? I don’t think...” He closed his mouth when the teacher walked into the room.
Emily noticed Red attempting to listen in on her conversation with Michael. Maybe Red descended from some scurrilous pirate knave. Ha!
Then another thought occurred to her. Up until now, she had avoided reading his mind, but she had to know. What did he and his buddies plan to do to her? She faced him, readying herself mentally to probe his innermost thoughts, but the teacher thwarted her.
“Emily Rundle, the principal wants to see you.”
Chapter 7
“The principal?” Emily said to Mr. Smith. Second day of school, first class, and she was already being called in to see the principal? “Why?” Her heart thundered and her hands grew clammy.
“No reason given. You need to go, now, Miss Rundle,” her teacher said, smoothing down a Snoopy tie.
“Should I take my books?” She figured she was being sent home, or something worse. Her parents would kill her.
Mr. Smith shook his head. “I’m sure it’ll take just a few minutes.”
She started breathing again, though her skin felt as hot and wet as when she’d showered earlier. Glancing at Michael, she imagined his worried face mirrored hers.
She was sure he wanted to accompany her. She wanted him to also. Never before had she felt the need to have someone offer moral support. Was it the bond she had with him due to their shared abilities? Hoping she could snap out of this sudden need for Michael’s constant companionship, she definitely didn’t want to become a clinging vine.
She left the class, sure everyone was dying to know what she’d done to warrant a trip to the principal’s office. The hallway felt chillier than normal, and her skin freckled with goose bumps. No matter how many deep breaths she took, she couldn’t calm her nervousness.
When she arrived at the principal’s office, a petite woman she assumed was the secretary directed Emily in. A tall blonde woman stood up from her desk and asked the other lady to shut the door.
It had to be really bad if it was going to be a closed-door session, didn’t it?
A shudder wracked Emily’s body.
“Emily, I’m Mrs. Garnet, the principal of Merritt Island High School.” She motioned to a chair, then retook her seat. Her blue eyes looked stern, and she tilted her chin down as if she were getting ready to scold a small child. “I got a call from your father this morning.”
Emily collapsed in the leather chair. She didn’t say a word, hoping her father hadn’t been too irate with the principal.
Mrs. Garnet rolled a gold pen between her fingers, but her eyes remained fixed on Emily’s. “We pride ourselves in not having student troubles.”
And Emily had already caused trouble.
Leaning back in her chair, Mrs. Garnet considered her as if she were psychoanalyzing her, to see if she was the root of the problem. After all, if they didn’t have student confrontations before this, Emily had to be the cause. However, she didn’t believe for one second Red and his buddies hadn’t triggered difficulties before.
“Your father said that Marrion Carver, who goes by the nickname, Red, shoved you in school.”
Marrion? With a name like that, no wonder he was a mean bully. “Yes.”
“Can you tell me in your own words what happened?”
A few of them at least. “He wouldn’t let me sit on the bus. I moved his feet off the seat, and it made him mad. When we got off the bus at school, he punched me in the shoulder.”
The principal eyed her as if she didn’t believe her. Emily’s blood sizzled. She might have left out some of the more interesting details, but she told the basic truth.
“Were there any witnesses?”
“His friends, but I’m sure they’d deny it. Others watched, but I’m new to school so I don’t know anyone yet.”
“Did he leave any mark?” the principal asked, one brow cocked in question.
Emily figured he had. She bruised easily enough. Just running into the edge of the coffee table the day they had moved into their new home had left a black and blue line across her shins. But she never bothered to check to see if Red left one.
With some trepidation, she lifted her shirtsleeve. She glanced at the shoulder. No mark. Her face grew hot.
The principal tilted her head to the side, chin still down, acting as if Emily had lied, and she caught her in the fabrication.
“Sorry,” Emily said, realizing because of her nervousness she pulled up the wrong shirtsleeve. When she lifted the right one, a nice fist-sized bruise, the perfect imprint, colored her skin black and purple.
The principal’s eyes widened. “I see. Well, I’ll have a word with Marrion. And please, if he bothers you anymore, let one of the teachers or me know. We’d like to circumvent this sort of thing before it escalates.”
Escalates. With Red and his thugs, that’s the only way this was heading. As soon as the principal lectured Red, payback would be hell.
* * *
Michael was dying to know why Emily got called into the principal’s office. When she reentered the classroom, the teacher quit speaking. Emily glanced at Michael, but didn’t reveal anything to him, no shake of her head, a frown, a smile, nothing. He couldn’t imagine the trouble. And he couldn’t understand her hiding her feelings from him.
But as soon as she took her seat between Red and him, she turned her attention to the bully. Focused, she had a one-track mind, and Michael assumed she was trying to read Red’s thoughts like she attempted to before she got called to the principal’s office.
What was her purpose? To see what he intended to do to her? Red probably wouldn’t plan it out. Just tackle her whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Michael had no intention of letting the coward and his buddies get to Emily. Still, it bothered him that she was trying to read Red’s mind, afraid it would tick him off even more, and she would be in a worse situation.
Michael dropped his book, but it didn’t break Emily’s concentration, it only got the teacher’s attention. Michael mumbled an apology. Then he cleared his throat. Emily still ignored him.
Think, man, think. He had to come up with a distraction. Michael sat back, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
He attempted to see any visions, but the only one that appeared in his mind’s eye was the one where she got off the bus and the bullies followed her. What he couldn’t understand, though, was why there were only two. Was the other beyond his sight? No matter how hard he concentrated, only two appeared. Red and one other. What bothered Michael also was he couldn’t see any visions concerning the ghosts. The problem was he couldn’t see ghostly apparitions like she could, and he felt impotent to protect her against a menace he couldn’t perceive.
He couldn’t think of a thing to distract her without disrupting class. He scowled at her when she continued to concentrate on Red. But then he had an idea.
* * *
At first, Emily sensed Red’s anger. Anger at being humiliated by a girl who forced him to share his seat. More anger when he made a fool of himself in front of half the school. And he hadn’t been able to teach her how he wouldn’t be intimidated by a girl...any girl.
Yet, as hard as his green eyes glared at her, she knew he feared her. He wondered if she had made him dance in the hallway like a ballerina. If so, she had powers beyond his comprehension.
That’s what he thought.
He also had felt more powerful after he pushed her into the swamp. Maybe she didn’t have special abilities after all.
But she had to know what he and his buddies intended to do to her. When they had a chance to gang up on her, she was certain they would. When would it happen? That’s what she sought with her mind probes.
She ignored Michael’s attempts to distract her. Despite usually loving the way he showed concern, this time his actions antagonized her. If he couldn’t see what would happen to her using his abilities, why couldn’t she utilize her own to help her out?
Then something else happened.
Like the time her focus had been diverted in the hallway just before Red punched her in the arm, something caught her attention when it passed by the open door of the classroom.
Michael touched her arm gently, attempting to stop her probe. Neither the teacher’s monologue, nor Michael distracted her like whatever passed by the door.
As if a million insects scurried over her body, her skin crawled. Was it something sinister? Or her savior?
Emily rubbed her temple. The first time it distracted her, Red hit her. This time...had it attempted to stop her from learning Red’s plan?
She turned back to Red to finish the mind probe. Then it happened. It passed by the door again, and she jerked her head toward the hallway. “Excuse me, Mr. Smith, but I feel sick to my stomach and need to see the nurse.”
“All right,” the startled teacher swiftly agreed.
She grabbed her book bag, glanced at Michael, and hurried for the door.
He couldn’t help her this time. And she wasn’t sure he’d believe her anyway if she told him what just happened. Actually, she wasn’t even sure of what was happening.
* * *
Michael had hoped his touching her would break her concentration with Red. But something else had done so, and he immediately sensed peril. He watched Emily slip out of the room, unprotected. But would the teacher think he wanted to have a secret rendezvous with Emily if he all of a sudden said he had to see the nurse, too?
His stomach muscles clenched in worry. What if she saw what Red intended to do to her, and he made her ill? What if he was going to hurt her, and Michael couldn’t prevent it?
He stared at the hall, wishing she’d walk back through the door and retake her seat next to him, safe and sound. His skin chilled. He worried she was neither safe nor sound. Danger lurked nearby. A deadly, icy threat he couldn’t comprehend.
Then a woman came into the room, handed Mr. Smith a note, and left. He read it, then looked up at Red. “Mr. Carver, Mrs. Garnet, our principal, wants you to go to her office.”
Instantly, Michael made the connection. Somehow, word had gotten to the principal that Red bullied Emily. Or, at least Michael assumed that’s what happened. Especially since Emily was called in first, probably to explain Red’s misbehavior. Had she told her parents, and they called the principal? He hated second-guessing the situation. Why hadn’t she told him on the way to school this morning what had happened?
Red slammed his pen on his desk and stalked toward the door.
“You might want to take your books because class is nearly over,” Mr. Smith said.
Storming to his desk, Red grabbed his books, dropped one, yanked it off the floor, and stalked back out of the room.
Michael’s thoughts shifted to Emily. What if Red ran into her in the hallway? Michael ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated. How could he leave the class without too much of a fuss? He had to ensure Emily was okay. But he could get them both into trouble if he didn’t handle the matter right.
He concentrated on trying to dredge up a vision, blocking out the teacher’s lecture, censoring out every image in the classroom until his mind was like a blank slate, ready for a glimpse of a movie screen image—a flash forward in time with no beginning or end.
* * *
When Emily entered the hall, freezing air touched her skin, and she shivered. Her heart beat out of bounds, and she worried whatever the thing was that lurked nearby epitomized evil. But what about the girl ghost? She left an icy imprint on Emily’s skin, too. Maybe this thing wasn’t evil either. Or, perhaps both were.
The hallway appeared empty. Where had it gone? She hurried down the corridor, rubber-soled sandals slapping the floor rapidly as she made her way to the bend. Breath held taut in anticipation, Emily poked her head around the corner.
Nothing. Nothing, except the cold. The frigid air could have harbored icicles if water dripped off the ceiling. Her breath blew out in frosty bursts while she attempted to calm her nerves.
A sub-zero touch to her shoulder made her cry out in fright. Emily whipped around to find no one there. No ghostly apparition. Just an empty hall.
But something tugged at her mind. Then she realized the problem. She needed to use her mind, not her vision. Whatever it was used her thoughts to call to her. It wanted her to follow it. Just like before.
Had it wished to distract her before when Red hit her
? She wasn’t certain anymore. Maybe it only wished her to follow it, but the timing hadn’t worked out.
Suddenly indecisive, Emily’s feet froze to the waxed linoleum floor. Was it the cold numbing her brain? Lack of sleep? Or simply fear?
“Emily.” She heard her name softly spoken in her head. “Emily, come.”
Her mind grew dark with concentration. The fluorescent lights no longer disturbed her vision. The hall warmed slightly. Sleep was all she needed. Sleep, and then she could chase the ominous spirit. Then she could find out what it wanted of her. After she rested.
“Emily!” Michael’s voice jarred her from the Arctic sleep that cloaked her. “Emily!”
Books dropped beside her head, making the floor vibrate. A distant bell rang. Footsteps ran toward her, sounding like a stampede of wild horses set free in the wilderness.
“Your hands are freezing. Someone get the nurse!”
Michael. Emily smiled. He was always so considerate.
“Emily.” Michael’s voice bordered panic.
She sighed deeply. Michael. With him in her dreams, the spirits had no chance to ruin her night.
To her surprise, her body lifted off the floor, then floated down, down, down the hall.
“In here,” a woman said. “What happened?”
“She said she felt sick in technology class and wanted to see you, but she never made it.”
An awful odor shook Emily from her sleep, and she bolted upright on the cot. Her head spun out of control, threatening to propel her into darkness again.
“Just lie quietly. I’m Mrs. Raven, the school nurse. You fainted in the hall. Is there anything you want to tell me about your condition?”
Condition? What was the woman ranting about? Emily turned her attention to the silent figure standing slightly behind the nurse. He studied her with concern. “Michael?”
“Yes, I’m here.” He moved closer and took her hand. “You’re still chilled.”
The nurse took Emily’s temperature twice. “Did you drink something icy?”
Emily attempted to focus her thoughts on what had happened. Michael rubbed her hand, warming the blood in her fingers. “Is it time to go home?”