by R. L. Stine
“Hello?” I said breathlessly, pulling off my coat with my free hand.
“Martha, it’s me.”
Laura.
“Did you hear about Ivan? He got suspended from school,” Laura said, speaking rapidly, excitedly.
“I was there,” I told her. I let my coat fall to the floor and stepped away. “I saw the fight. It was a really bad one.”
“I guess,” Laura replied. I could picture her rolling her eyes. “Hernandez suspended Ivan for two weeks. His parents have to come in for a conference tomorrow.”
“Wow,” I murmured. “They’re not going to be happy about this.”
“What was the fight about?” Laura demanded.
I shifted the phone to my other hand and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. “I don’t know. They were already killing each other when I showed up.”
“The other boy was from Drake Academy,” Laura informed me. “He doesn’t even go to Shadyside. He’s one of Ivan’s friends from—”
“Some friend!” I interrupted. “They really were trying to kill each other.”
Laura let out a long moan. “I can’t believe I used to go out with Ivan. Thinking about it just gives me the creeps. He’s such an animal. I’m so glad I broke up with him.”
I had a flash of memory. So surprising, I nearly dropped the phone.
“Laura—” I said, swallowing. “You broke up with Ivan to go with Sean!”
I heard her gasp on the other end of the line. I waited for her to reply. But heard only silence.
“Laura—?” I urged her to answer me. The memories were washing back, bright pictures sweeping into my mind.
“Martha—you remember Sean?” Laura finally said, in a tiny voice.
“You broke up with Ivan that week,” I told her, shutting my eyes. Shutting my eyes and letting the pictures come back to me.
“Yes. I—” Laura started.
But I didn’t let her finish. I didn’t want to interrupt the flow of my memories.
“You broke up with Ivan at the cabins. He was so upset, he and Sean almost got into a big fight there.”
“Yes. That’s right.” Laura’s voice suddenly sounded cold. Distant. “I—I don’t want to talk about it,” she stammered.
“You have to talk about it!” I cried. “You have to tell me, Laura—”
“No—!” she insisted. “No. I don’t. I can’t. I have to go now, Martha.”
“Wait!” I cried. “Did you call me the other night? Did you leave a phone message for me?”
“I have to go,” Laura repeated. “Really.”
“Laura—answer me!”
“Call me later,” she said breathlessly. “I have to go. We’ll talk later, okay? Bye.”
The phone went dead. But I stood there with the receiver in my hand, staring at the wall. The white wall.
The memories were flooding back.
I shut my eyes and let them come back.
The pictures were so vivid, so clear. This time I was going to see everything.
I was going to remember it all.
All the fun.
All the trouble.
All the horror.
chapter 20
As Ivan pulled the sled toward the cabin, Sean did a bellyflop onto it. “Give me a ride, man,” Sean called, grinning up at Ivan.
Ivan grinned back. “I’ll give you a ride. Off the side of the mountain!” He dropped the sled rope. “Get off, Sean. No way I’m pulling you up the hill.”
Sean laughed and rolled off the sled, into the deep snow. He grabbed two handfuls and heaved them at Ivan. “Think fast!”
I watched from a short distance down the hill. I pulled a sled behind me too, an old wooden Flexible Flyer. My legs ached. I had been sledding all afternoon.
We had all been sledding. Me and all of my friends.
Justine, Adriana, and Laura. Aaron, Ivan, and Sean.
Sean wasn’t really part of the group. Well, I guess maybe he was the newest member.
Sean was Ivan’s friend. Ivan had met him at a bowling alley or some place. Sean lived in the Old Village. But he didn’t go to Shadyside High.
I liked Sean. I thought he was interesting looking, with his dark eyes, his serious expression, and the tiny white scar that cut across his eyebrow. The one flaw that kept him from being perfectly handsome.
“Stack the sleds against that wall,” Adriana instructed us.
Adriana had been in charge for the whole long weekend. Her parents owned the two cabins we were all staying at. But her parents never used them.
Too busy fighting, I thought with some sadness.
So Adriana was in charge. They were Ivan’s cabins too, of course. But Ivan wasn’t the kind of guy to give instructions—or be helpful in any way.
Ivan only cared about sneaking off and being alone with Laura.
I dropped my sled beside the others. Aaron helped me stack it on top of the pile. He smiled at me. “That was awesome sledding!”
I started to reply. But he hurried away to join Justine and Laura.
“Skiing next!” someone shouted.
“Yeah. Let’s hit the slopes!”
A narrow ski run dropped down beside the cabins.
Such luxury! I thought. To have your own private ski slope!
I glanced around. Justine and Adriana had opened the shed and were pulling out skis and ski poles and tossing them onto the snow. Ivan and Laura were head to head, arguing heatedly about something in front of the boys’ cabin.
Aaron had disappeared into the cabin. Then Ivan and Sean were throwing snow at each other again beside their sled.
I took a deep breath. The air smelled so fresh and piney. The late afternoon sun still floated high in a cloudless blue sky.
“Come on—let’s ski!” Adriana urged, calling everyone to the shed. “We want to go into town for dinner, right? It’s getting late.”
I gazed down the ski slope. Not very difficult, I decided. Not too steep. A straight path between two rows of tall fir trees.
Pretty easy, even for a beginner like me.
“Who’s going first?” Laura called, hurrying away from Ivan.
I saw Aaron step out of the boys’ cabin and come jogging across the snow. Aaron was an expert skier. This slope was baby stuff to him, I knew.
“We have to go one at a time,” Adriana told us. “The slope is so narrow.”
I turned to see Aaron dragging Ivan over to the skis. “We have a volunteer!” Aaron shouted.
Ivan scowled and angrily pulled away from Aaron. I saw Aaron react with surprise. Ivan spit in the snow and muttered something to Aaron.
“Hey—what’s your problem?” Aaron asked Ivan.
Laura had walked over to Justine, and the two of them were talking, serious expressions on their faces.
“Who’s going first?” someone asked.
“I think Martha goes first!” Adriana replied. She grinned at me and handed me a pair of skis.
“Why me?” I demanded.
“You were the champion sledder,” Adriana declared.
A few kids cheered.
“You’ve won the first spot,” Adriana continued.
“Are you kidding? I fell off my sled three times!” I exclaimed. “I nearly smashed into that tree!”
“I’m going second,” Sean announced.
“Good. Then you can rescue me when I break my leg!” I told him.
I bent to fasten the skis. My heart started to pound. I had only skied two or three times before in my whole life. I really didn’t have much confidence.
I knew I was about to make a total fool of myself in front of my friends.
I couldn’t get the straps right. I turned and saw Adriana, and Justine, and a couple other kids watching me.
“Somebody else go first!” I shouted. “These straps are messed up.”
“Okay. Here goes!” I heard Sean yell.
I fixed the straps. Pulled them tight. Then I stood up in time to watch Sean start
his run.
I moved to the edge of the hill, the skis crunching in the crusty snow.
Sean pushed off with both poles and started down.
It was steeper than I thought. He bent forward and picked up speed. His skis slid over a bump. He kept his balance and swooped down faster.
And then up ahead of him, I saw the silver line.
A silver line across the ski run.
So slender. A glimmer. A glimmering thread against the white snow.
Shimmering in the sunlight, it cut straight across Scan’s path.
I stared at it, puzzled. Trying to figure it out.
What was it?
It was as if someone had taken a silver pen and drawn a straight line across the ski run from tree to tree.
A silver line.
It took me so long to realize it was a wire.
It took me so long to realize that someone had strung a silver wire across the ski path.
It took me so long, there was no time to scream.
No time to warn Sean.
No time to move.
And a second later—maybe less—Sean skied into it.
The wire caught him at the throat.
Cut through his neck.
A straight line. A silver line.
It cut through his neck.
Bright red splashed on both sides of the silver line.
I still didn’t move. I didn’t believe it.
No one moved.
We all stood at the edge, staring down in silence.
The silver wire sliced off Sean’s head.
I watched his body continue to ski. The skis carried it for several yards before it collapsed.
And Sean’s head bounced onto the snow.
And emptied out. Emptied out. Emptied out.
Staring up at us.
Puddling the snow dark red.
chapter 21
I finally remembered. Remembered it all.
And now I stared down at my desk, cluttered with drawings of Sean. Stared down at his serious face.
And pictured his head, his handsome head, lying on the pure, white snow. His dark eyes staring up the slope at us, staring so accusingly.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop my body from shivering.
But the chills wouldn’t stop. They rolled down my body. I felt so cold, so cold and frightened.
As if I were standing on the slope again. As if I were back in the snow, staring in horror at the thin silver line.
Helpless.
So helpless and horrified.
My memory was back. So sharp and clear, I felt sick all over again.
I wiped tears off my face with both hands. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
Now I let the sobs come. Sobs that tightened my face, tightened my throat until I gasped for breath.
Sean. Poor Sean.
And then I remembered even more.
I had a fight with Sean. An ugly fight.
I had a fight with Sean—and then he died.
The night before, Sean and I had fought.
And then he died. And the police came. I remembered their blue-black uniforms against the whiteness of the snow.
Remembered their stern faces, red from the cold. Eyes staring hard at me, studying me.
Remembered their questions. Endless questions.
They questioned us all. For hours and hours.
And then?
I still didn’t remember.
But I remembered enough.
Aaron was right. I was better off before the horrible memory came back.
I hugged myself tighter, trying to force away the chills that shook my body.
And then the phone rang.
Adriana.
“I remember everything!” I blurted out. “Adriana, it all came back to me—just now!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “It’s so horrible, Martha. You must feel so bad.”
“Yes,” I admitted. I tried to say more, but the words caught in my throat.
“It’s been so horrible. For all of us,” Adriana murmured into the phone. “Ever since that day, we—”
“Adriana—that wire,” I interrupted. “Did somebody deliberately plan to kill one of us?”
Silence. Then: “No one knows, Martha.”
“Huh?” I cried. “But the police—? Didn’t they figure out what happened?”
Adriana sighed. “It took forever for the police to get up the slope. We were all crying and screaming. We were all out of our minds. Poor Laura. They had to give her medication to put her to sleep. And Ivan nearly went nuts.”
“But, the police—” I tried to say.
“They questioned us all. They studied the wire. Then they took it down and brought it to their lab. But they couldn’t figure out who strung the wire. Or why.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. I made no attempt to brush them away. I was concentrating on Adriana’s words, trying to understand what she was telling me.
And now I could hear her crying too. Short, gasping sobs. “I—I—I—” she stammered. “I don’t know. It was so awful. Such a total nightmare, Martha.”
Silence while she tried to get herself together. Then she continued in a shaky voice. “I’ll never get over it. I haven’t slept since. Not a single night, Martha. Not a single night that I didn’t live that nightmare again. Again and again.”
“Adriana—” I started.
But she uttered a loud sob and kept talking. “I can’t concentrate. I don’t hear a word in school. I can’t do my homework. My grades—my grades … I can’t think straight.”
A cold shudder nearly made me drop the phone. I gripped it tighter in my clammy hand. “Adriana,” I choked out, “you don’t think one of us killed Sean—do you?”
“What do you think?” she replied, shouting now. Screaming the words as if she were angry. “What do you think, Martha? There was no one else up on that hilltop. No one. We were the only ones up there. Who else could have Strung that wire?”
The wire.
The silver wire.
I pictured the wire as I tried to digest Adriana’s words.
Who else could have strung that wire?
No one else was up there. We were the only ones.
The only ones who could have killed Sean.
“I’m coming over,” Adriana said suddenly, jarring me from my thoughts. Her voice was filled with emotion. “I’m coming over. I’ve been so worried about you, Martha. It must have been so horrible for you. Losing your memory. Then starting to draw Sean’s face again and again.”
“Yes. I—I didn’t understand anything.” I sighed. “It took me so long to put it together. It took me so long to remember.”
A question forced its way into my mind, a question I didn’t want to ask myself.
Why did I lose my memory? Why not one of the others, one of my friends?
Why did I take Sean’s death so much harder than anyone else? Why did it affect me so strongly?
Was it because I had fought with Sean the night before he was murdered? Did I feel guilty because I had fought with him on his last night on earth?
Why? Why?
It was a question I couldn’t answer.
But maybe someone could help answer it now. Maybe Adriana would help me now.
“Yes—please,” I pleaded. “Come over. Come over right now.”
“I’m on my way,” she replied softly. And the phone went dead.
I set down the receiver, thinking hard. My mind whirring at top speed.
Remembering.
Who had a reason to kill Sean?
Who would want Sean dead?
Ivan? No. Sean was Ivan’s friend. Ivan had brought him into our group.
Aaron? Laura? Justine?
No. No. Of course not.
Everyone liked Sean. Everyone.
I crossed my bedroom to the closet and pulled open the door. I wanted to get changed before Adriana arrived.
I pulled a pair of faded j
eans from the shelf in back.
I was glad Adriana had decided to come over. Maybe now we could have a long, long talk. Get everything off our chests.
I needed to talk. And I knew it would be good for Adriana.
The poor girl. She was so wrecked. She was having such a bad time of it. Her parents fighting the Battle of the Century. Her brother suspended from school, ruining his life.
I heard a car door slam out front.
Startled, I dropped the jeans.
I bent to pick them up off the closet floor.
And saw a brown bag. A brown canvas carry-all.
“Oh!” I uttered a short cry as I remembered it.
The bag I had taken on the trip up to the cabins. The bag I had packed all my stuff in last November.
What is it doing here in the back of my closet? I wondered. Did I forget to unpack it? Did I just shove it back here and forget about it?
I dragged it out into my room. My hands shook as I opened it.
The bag was nearly full. I pulled out wrinkled sweaters and rolled-up jeans. Two pairs of tights.
I never unpacked, I realized.
I must have been so upset, so out-of-my-mind, I just hid the bag away.
I pulled out more clothes. A cosmetics bag. My old hair dryer.
And then—
“Noooo!” I screamed out loud when I saw it. A high wail of horror.
At the bottom of the bag. Coiled up in a corner of the bag. Tucked tightly away.
Wire.
Silver wire.
Rolled-up tightly.
Beside a pair of wire cutters.
The wire that killed Sean?
I stared into the bag, afraid to move, afraid to look—unable to look away. I stared into the bag, stared at the coiled-up wire.
And I knew.
I knew who killed Sean.
I did.
I was the one.
“You’ve been drawing him because you killed him.”
chapter 22
I heard the front door open. I heard Mom talking to Adriana downstairs.
But I didn’t move.
I stared into the bag, stared at the silver wire.
One word repeated in my mind: Why? Why? Why?
It drowned out the voices downstairs. Drowned out the pounding thuds of my heartbeats, my shrill, gasping breaths.
Why? Why? Why?
Why did I kill Sean?
I shut my eyes and struggled to remember.