by Nigel Henry
They lead me to the edge of the woods, which begins with another freaking hill. "You're kidding," I exclaim.
"It's not that bad," Ariana says. Easy for her to say, she didn't have to kill a revenant last night.
"Whatever, just don't expect me to rush to the top."
We begin the climb, and I'm dying after ten minutes. Sweat is dripping down my eyes and my shirt is damp. "I thought you said it wasn't bad," I wheeze.
"Oh come on now," Will says, "don't tell me this little hill is killing you?"
"Let's just reach the bridge," Ariana offers. "It's just ahead and you can rest there."
"The bridge?!" I point to the span in the distance. “That thing? We're walking to the goddamn George Washington?"
"That's the Henry Hudson," Will corrects me. "The George Washington Bridge is south of here."
"That's not the point!"
"And that's not where we're going," Ariana says, stepping in before I pull Will's tongue out of his throat. "There's a pedestrian bridge that crosses a stream up ahead. That's where we're headed." She slaps Will on the arm. "Stop fucking with her!"
"Geez, fine. Sorry," Will says, rubbing his arm. "We're really almost there. It's not much longer."
We keep moving up the hill and, finally, the bridge comes into view. It's a small, wooden span that was painted white a long time ago. A small stream runs underneath it, the kind that you could hop across if you really needed to.
Will and Ariana head to the top, but something catches my eye from under the bridge. Still wheezing, I bend over with my hands on my knees and squint into the darkness under the bridge. There's something there, and I think it's alive.
"What are you doing?" Ariana's voice sounds from above.
"Nothing, just give me a moment."
My curiosity gets the better of me, and I move closer. That's when I see what's hiding under the bridge, and I can't stop the groan that escapes my lips.
It's a little yellow troll.
It's a goddamn troll.
Under a bridge.
You have got to be kidding me.
"Dammit," I wheeze as I reach down and pull the stake out from my shoe and drop my bag. I don't know how long this asshole has been here, but I can't just ignore it. Who knows how many kids come up here to make out. Any one of them could become troll chow if I don't act.
The troll finally takes notice of me and bares its teeth. I'm really wishing I'd brought my knife with me. This is going to be so much harder with just a stake.
The troll charges at me, I duck and jam the stake into its arm. It screams and tries to claw at my face, but I pull back and kick it onto its ass.
"Ria, what the hell are you doing?" Will asks as I step out from under the bridge and wave.
"Nothing," I say as I tuck a few loose strands of hair back behind my ear. "Just resting."
"Well, are you ready to go?"
"Why don't you two go ahead? I promise I'll catch up."
"Suit yourself."
Will's head disappears back over the edge of the bridge and I turn my attention back to the troll. It's yanked the stake out of its arm and is holding it toward me threateningly.
"Oh really, asshole? You're going to try to use my own weapon against me?"
The troll slashes at me. It's fast, and I'm tired, and the stake slides across my arm. Thankfully, trolls are dumb as rocks and can't tell the difference between a knife and a stake. I'm not cut, but it still hurts like a mutha.
He slashes out again, but this time I grab his arm and toss him overhead. He lands on his back with a thud, and the stake goes skittering across the grass. I'm already running for it when the troll gets up, and before he can snarl I catch him in the heart. The troll screams as he dies and his body begins to liquefy. I take a step back.
Will and Ariana arrive a moment later to find me staring at a dirty gray puddle. "Are you okay? We heard you scream." Ariana says.
I point to the puddle, which is thankfully not at all troll-shaped. "I just stepped in that stuff and it stinks."
Will waves his hand in front of his nose as he takes a step closer. "God, what is it?"
"Who knows?" I say as I grab his arm and pull him and Ariana back toward the path. "I've got my second wind. Let's go see the George Washington."
FIVE
OKAY, I'll give my new friends credit; they know what they're talking about when it comes to a view.
You really can see everything from the lookout spot at the top of the park, from the Henry Hudson Bridge at the north to George Washington Bridge and the skyscrapers of midtown to the south. It even makes New Jersey look good, with evergreen trees and rock cliffs running all along the other side of the Hudson.
"This is incredible," I admit.
"At night you can see the stars," Will says. "They say it's the only place in Manhattan where you can."
"You guys come up here at night? Doesn't that seem kind of dangerous?" My mind goes back to the troll. It's a good thing I found it when I did.
Ariana laughs. "Dangerous? This is Inwood. The only thing dangerous at night are the nightclubs."
And that's my opening. "What about the missing kids?"
Ariana clams up and I press forward. "Look, I know you were friends with one of them. I'm sorry, I know this must be hard for you."
"What do you know?" Ariana asks sharply.
I take a deep breath. If I've learned anything from having a reporter for a father, it's that sometimes you have to give a little to get a little.
"When I was eleven my little brother went missing. He was only gone for a day, but it was the worst day of my entire life."
Ariana's face softens as the tears begin to well up in my eyes. "We found him the next day," I continue. "He'd been killed and then torn apart by dogs. We had to use dental records to identify his body."
I have to leave out the whole truth, that it wasn't dogs that killed him, but one big werewolf. That my family made it our mission to find the bastard and put him in the dirt in as many pieces as possible. Leaving out that part of Patrick's story always kills me, but this isn't about him, or me. This is about finding justice for those three missing students.
"Jesus..." Will utters.
Ariana's fighting back her own tears and she swallows a lump in her throat. I look her right in the eyes. "My dad, he likes to say that we're only gone when our stories end. I think it means that as long as people remember us, a little piece of us is still here." I take her hand in mine. "Please don't let them be gone, Ariana."
Ariana swallows again. When she talks, her voice is just a whisper. "Marcela Torres. That was her name. The other two were Camila Fernandez and Kian Ford."
I squeeze her hand. "What happened to them?"
"No one knows. Camila was the first to disappear, back in February. Then Kian in April, and Marcela in June."
"When was the last time you saw Marcela?"
"The afternoon before. I said goodbye to her after we left Ms. Birch's class."
"Did they have classes together?"
"We're all in the same grade," Will says. "We practically all have the same classes."
Okay, that's enough for me to start with. "Thank you, guys."
"Why do you even care?" Will asks. “What are you going to do? Find them yourself?"
I shake my head. "Nah, I guess my dad's rubbing off on me. Come on, let's head back. I'll give you guys a ride home."
I'M DIALING my dad first thing after I drop off Ariana and Will. Did I mention this car has Bluetooth? How did I live without my own car?
Dad's voice sounds gruff when he picks up the phone. "Everything okay?" he asks.
"Sounds like I should ask you that."
"It's nothing, just another murder in a public housing project in Queens. Second one this month."
"Anything we should get involved with?"
"I don't think so. At least not yet. What's up?"
"The kids that went missing from Tech, they all had the same classes. Did anyone in
terview the teachers?"
"I think so, but I don't think police found anything incriminating."
"You don't think?"
"I don't know the full specifics of the case. You'd be better off asking Perkins."
"Will do, thanks." I hang up and dial Inspector Perkins next. He sounds surprised to hear from me.
"You know, I didn't expect you to call until week three."
"Give me credit, Mr. Perkins. I'm trying to get this done as quickly as possible."
"I'll bet. What can I do for you?"
"The missing students in Inwood all had the same classes. What'd you find when you interviewed the teachers?"
"A whole lot of nothing incriminating, if that's what you're asking. And trust me, we checked."
"What about background checks? Anything come up there?" Monsters tend not to have things like birth certificates and high school diplomas, what with their whole not-being-born-in-hospitals-to-human-parents thing.
"Ria, I'd have told your father if we found anything."
Rats. "Well did they have anything else in common?"
"Let's see... the two girls dated the same boy in tenth grade; a kid named Mark Bell.
"And did Bell know Kian Ford?"
"They had classes together, but no one said they were friends. Look, what are you planning?"
"I'm going to find this Mark Bell and make sure he's human. Then I'm going to do the same to the teachers."
"Just don't do anything stupid."
"I never do. Can you get me a copy of their schedules?"
"I'll send you a picture tonight."
"Thanks, Mr. P—"
The car ahead of me stops short and I slam the breaks to avoid an accident. After that I lean in on the horn, giving in to the slightest bit of road rage. Who taught that jerk how to drive?
"Was that a car horn?" Perkins asks. "Are you driving while talking on the phone to a police officer?"
"Uh, reception's bad. You're breaking up. Gotta go, bye Mr. Perkins!" I hang up the call and sigh.
Okay, so there's not a ton to go on, but I've got some direction. Check out this Mark Bell, then look into the teachers.
Unless there's an invisible monster around, someone in the school took those kids. I'm going to find them.
SIX
FINDING MARK BELL wasn't hard. All I had to do was hit up the internet when I got home and within a few minutes, I'm staring at his smiling brown face. Facebook may be the place where your crazy uncle spouts racist garbage, but, I have to admit, sometimes it comes in handy.
Armed with his photo, I keep my eyes peeled in school the next day. If he's in the same grade as me, odds are high I'll see him before long. Then it's just a matter of getting him to talk to me. Maybe I could flirt. Eh, maybe not. When it comes to breaking hearts, I'm more of a literal kind of girl.
The first half of the day goes by with no sight of Bell. I consider asking Ariana if she's seen him, but I don't want her thinking I'm obsessed with the disappearances. I'm growing frustrated by the fourth-period bell, and I guess my mood is visible on my face because Will checks me as we trudge toward the lunchroom.
"Bad day?" He asks.
"You could say that."
"What's wrong?"
I sigh. "I'm expecting a package, and I'm getting tired of waiting to see it show up."
"Gotcha. You know, when I'm waiting for a package, sometimes it helps for me to find something to distract myself with."
We pass by the science lab and I see Ms. Birch sitting alone at a desk. Maybe Will's right; maybe I need to distract myself until Bell shows up. Checking on Birch would certainly help.
"Good idea," I say as I peel off toward the lab. "Save me a seat at lunch."
"Don't join science club!" He calls back. I ignore him as I knock on the door of the lab.
"Excuse me, Ms. Birch?"
Ms. Birch looks up at me and smiles. "Ria! What's up?"
"Can I come in?"
"Sure," she says, motioning to a seat across from her desk.
I walk over, digging a hand into my bag in search of the vial of holy water I brought. I'm taking the worst-case theory that whoever is snatching up these students is a monster, or at the very least is possessed by a ghost. If that's the case, holy water is a sure-fire screening method. If Birch is anything other than a human, holy water will burn the living hell out of her. I just need to find a subtle way to spill it.
"What can I do for you, Ria?"
"I was hoping you could tell me more about the science club."
"Oh! Are you considering joining?"
"Just looking for more information first."
"You're already thinking like a scientist! Okay, what do you want to know?"
"How often does this club meet? Is it just field trips or do we have to put on, like, science fairs?"
"There's one meeting a month, and it's usually to some place exciting."
"Oh, that doesn't sound terrible."
"Well, you know, despite what your classmates may say, science is actually pretty cool. Ariana was in it last year and she had a good time."
"She mentioned that."
"Listen, there's so much to learn about in this world."
Tell me about it. I'm about to respond when she gets up and moves over to the spider tank.
"Come here," she says.
"Uh, no thanks," I respond.
"Not a fan of spiders," she notes.
"Not particularly," I say. "I don't really like animals with more than four legs."
"But they're so cool! Did you know that a spider can lay up to two thousand eggs in one sitting? And their webbing—which is silk, by the way—is almost as strong as steel. And..."
She starts going off on a spiel about the virtues of spiders and I figure I better test her now before she bores me to death. Maybe she is a monster and that's her super power. Anyway, I slide out the vial of holy water and pour it into a cup. I then walk over casually.
"Well, I guess I could take a—whoops!"
I pretend to slip, sending the cup of holy water splashing into Ms. Birch's arm. She backs up as the water drips down her lab coat and onto her hand.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I say as I wait for her reaction. I can have the stake out in a heartbeat if she shows any kind of pain. Of course, what I'd do after I killed a teacher in the middle of a school building is anyone's guess. I'm betting the cops wouldn't take "she's possessed by a vengeful spirit" as a valid excuse.
But Birch doesn't have any sort of negative reaction at all. "It's fine," she says as she flicks the water off her hand before grabbing a paper towel and patting her coat down. It gives me a chance to see the stylish sleeveless white blouse she's wearing under the coat, but it also confirms that she's not a monster.
She's not the one I'm looking for.
"You know what, I think I'll head down to lunch," I say before she can get mad at me. "I'm really sorry, I promise I'll think about science club!"
I head out the door... and run right into a goddamn spider web in the doorway. It gets right in my hair, my eyes, and my mouth. I start freaking out, shaking my arms and dusting my head.
"Get it off! Get it off!"
Ms. Birch is at my side in a moment. But she's not looking to me, she's looking at the doorway. "Oh my, I think one of the spiders got loose."
"That can happen?!"
"Well yes, spiders are very smart. In fact..."
"Gotta go!" I say as I make my way out before she can start up again.
THE REST of the day is just as useless as the first half. Neither the English or gym teachers are possessed by so much as a cough, let alone a vengeful spirit. And to top it all off, Mark Bell is nowhere to be found.
Some days you win some. Today is definitely not one of those days.
I'm grumpy beyond belief as I make my way to my car at the end of the day. At least I've got a light homework load. Although with my luck I'll probably end up being called to fight a werewolf or something equally shitty.
I'm debating the best way kill a werewolf with a slingshot when, out of the corner of my eye, I see him. He's standing across the street, waiting at a bus stop. His hair's grown out since he took his Facebook picture, as he's sporting a mini-fro that is in dire need of combing. But it's him. Mark Bell.
Well, shit, my day just picked itself up.
Without wasting a moment I hop out of the car, lock the door and walk across the street, sizing Bell up as I go. He's dressed in blue jeans, a red T-shirt, and basketball sneakers. He looks fit. Not muscular like the meathead football players I've seen around, but also not scrawny like so many of the boys here. He looks like he could win in a fight. But he doesn't carry himself like a fighter. Instead, his shoulders are hunched forward and he's looking straight ahead as if he wants to disappear.
Not that I'll let it happen.
His eyes are on the bus down the street, so I take advantage of his inattention to slide up next to him. "Mark Bell?" I say, quietly enough that only he can hear.
He turns to me and I can see a moment of panic flash across his face before he composes himself. "Who wants to know?" he asks, his voice deep. Really, buddy? You're going to play the tough guy when your body language says you're ready to wet yourself?
"Drop the alpha male act," I hiss. "We both know you're scared of something. Now the only question is whether it has anything to do with Marcela and Camila."
"I didn't have nothing to do with that."
"Then you won't mind answering a couple of questions and getting me out of your hair."
He nods and steps back from the crowd as the bus arrives. "Fine, make it quick."
I'm ready to ask my first question when someone pushes me from behind and the crowd starts to mob the bus. God, I hate busses at the end of the school day.
"Watch it," I shout to the person behind me. I turn back to Mark... and he's off and running through the crowd.
Shit. So much for doing this the easy way.
I start to shove my way through the bustle, ignoring shouts from people who think I'm trying to line cut—as if—while I try to keep my eye on Mark. He's already down the street, heading toward Dyckman. He moves fast. Maybe he's a runner?