Chosen (The Urban Legends Series Book 1)

by R. S. Broadhead

I quickly dropped my eyes to the table. When I looked back up, both were nowhere to be seen.

  A few moments later, Jensen retreated back to the table but didn’t sit down. “So, it looks like I’ve got to stay and help.”

  “It’s okay. I think I’ll check out the school like she suggested. Sounds pretty interesting,” I said. I grabbed my purse from the seat and hooked it under my arm before sliding out the booth.

  He rubbed his neck, looking down at the floor. “You sure you don’t want to wait till I can go with you?”

  “I’ll be fine. Just point me in the right direction.”

  “Go right for about two blocks. It’s on the left at the only traffic light in town. It’s a small brick building with a flagpole out front. You won’t miss it.”

  “Great. I guess I’ll see you later.”

  It didn’t take me long to reach the school. Jensen had been right. It was impossible to miss. The parking lot on the side was bare as I’d expected it would be since it was a Saturday. I climbed the steps and peered through the window on the door. It was an old-fashioned place, which matched the rest of the town. To my surprise, the doorknob turned with ease. I glanced behind me to make sure no one was watching before slipping inside.

  The weather was cool and crisp outside, but in here, the air was toasty, almost unbearable. I loosened my jacket, but it didn’t help any as I looked over the entrance. The walls were covered in photographs. Some were colored, and others were black and white. The classes were small. The largest group was ten children. Most students looked solemn, but a few other pictures were actually silly ones in which they actually appeared happy.

  In the middle, I found two faces I recognized. Frank and Thomas McAdams. My grandfather stood in the middle of a group of boys, making a silly face with Thomas laughing with his mouth open beside them. I couldn’t help but laugh too. At least not all their times here must have been bad.

  I glanced off to the side to find one student standing alone. He was guarded, keeping away from everyone else. His hands gripped a stack of books, hugging them tightly to his midsection. The group seemed to hold his attention more than the photographer. More specifically, my grandfather. The boy looked so familiar. I read the names on the gold tag screwed into the wall beneath the picture until I reached Harold’s. I glanced at the student again. There was no doubt of his identity.

  “Best friends, my ass,” I told the picture. Why lie about something like that? Judging from his twisted, hatful expression, the two of them had been nowhere near friends.

  After looking over the rest of the pictures and finding none that were helpful, I moved on to explore the rest of the building. Down the long hallway, rooms lined each side. All were identical, with a chalkboard at the front with a dozen or so metal desks lined up facing it. When I reached the last one, I decided to venture inside.

  I crossed the room, looking over each empty desk until I reached a bookshelf. Math books. Science books. History books. I stopped at the middle as an odd leather-bound book sat out of place between the schoolbooks. I pulled it out and carried it to a nearby desk. The pages were colored a light brown from age, but the spine stretched open easily, indicating the book had been opened many times before. I stopped on a chapter called The Harvest.

  On the night of Black Moon in the month of October, one shall be given. This gift is bestowed upon us by one of his choosing. We shall prepare this gift. Protect this gift against those that seek to do harm against it. For what is his is precious to us. He is our provider, so we follow his command. He will do us no harm and supply us in abundance. This gift is special, different from the yearly sacrifices. For this chosen will act as a companion for the provider.

  I flipped through a few pages, finding a section labeled Sacrifices.

  Once a year we provide a sacrifice. If a sacrifice is not brought forth, then it is up to our people to decide amongst them the nominated for this righteous task. For all life belongs to him, and he shall decide when to take it.

  I closed the book, not knowing what to think. Were they slaughtering animals? Some cults did that. The whole town was crazy. I’d gotten the feeling from the beginning but I never expected them to worship something like what was in this book. And they taught this junk in the schools? I tucked the book in my bag and walked to the front door.

  Harold stood across the road at the grocery store. He paced back and forth, gave the parking lot a look over, and paced again. A moment later, someone approached him. The two walked to the side of the building and disappeared around the side.

  I shoved the door opened, checked the road for oncoming traffic, and darted across the parking lot of the grocery store.

  I peered around the corner and could make out two forms. Bending low, I crept along the side of the building until I was close enough to see them. I tucked in behind a stack of crates.

  Harold’s face was drawn in. His movement was jerky, clearly showing anger toward this other person. The other guy said something. I strained but wasn’t able to hear. Harold grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, pulling him within an inch of his face. A moment later, the person stumbled back. That was when I saw who it was. My stomach sank, and I recoiled. The man the sheriff had taken away from the room next to mine in the motel. I blinked. No way I was seeing this.

  The man turned in my direction and walked toward me. I pushed farther into the crates, holding my breath. He passed without pausing and cut in front of the store. I peeked through the crates to see Harold traveling in the opposite direction.

  Before I could change my mind, I left my hiding spot behind and followed him. He went back out onto the street, pulling his jacket up around his neck as a cold wind cut through the air.

  I paused, giving him time to get ahead of me.

  He crossed the street and climbed a set of steps leading to a small neighborhood. After waiting for a moment, I ran across and went up the steps. I looked in both directions, catching a glimpse of his black form walking into a large house with four columns across the front. Harold apparently had money. His house made all the others look like shacks by comparison.

  I needed to get into his house. Something was off about him. Things weren’t adding up. I had the strong suspicion he was the one who’d sent the man to spy on me that night. But why? These were the things I needed to find out. But I had to wait for a chance. I turned and retraced my steps.

  Back at the motel, I stopped in the diner and sat at the counter.

  Jensen came out the back a moment later and gave me a nod. He delivered an armful of plates to occupied tables then approached.

  “Find anything interesting?” he asked.

  Immediately my mind went to the book hidden in my bag. But there was no way I could confide in him about it. What if he believed in that stuff? It could be something they didn’t like discussing with outsiders. I shoved those thoughts away.

  “I found a picture of my grandfather in there. It was a really sweet one. He looked like he had fun with his friends.”

  “That’s good. I can’t say I’m sad I didn’t get to go with you. I hated that place.”

  I leaned forward, my curiosity piquing. “Why’s that?” Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t like the rest of them.

  He shrugged. “Everything was so strict there. So many rules to follow. And I know the things they taught us were useless.”

  I laughed.

  “I mean, we all think most stuff we learn in school is pointless. Like why would I need to know most of that math stuff? It’s crazy.”

  “Exactly. Pointless.”

  I shifted, trying to think of the best way to approach what I really wanted to know.

  “How well do you know Harold?” I casually asked. The last thing I wanted to do was throw up a red flag. I had no idea if I could trust Jensen entirely, but he was the only one in this town who had really given me the time of day.

  There was a long pause.

  “He’s been the town elect for as long as I can remember. Bef
ore him, I believe his father did it.” He leaned closer to me as if someone were listening. “No one runs against him. I think it’s because he owns practically the whole community. More money than anyone here. Why do you ask?”

  I needed to think of a lie and quick. “He was in the picture with my grandfather. He told me the day we met that they were best friends. I thought about asking him some questions, but I don’t know. After last night. I don’t think he wants to help me with anything.” That sounded legit.

  “He’s just old and likes to stay to himself. He’s not too bad.”

  “In that case, I might talk to him. I wonder if he would be available tonight.”

  “Probably not. The whole town will be at the church,” he answered.

  “Church on a Saturday? You guys must be serious about your faith.”

  I couldn’t help but think about the book again, wondering if that was what they were going to worship. Maybe it was the teacher’s book. Regardless, Harold would be out of his house tonight. It was the perfect opportunity to go in. All of Hell would be in one place.

  “We’re getting ready for a special event. It’s more or less a meeting about it.”

  “That’s nice that the whole town helps on stuff, I guess.”

  A guy from the back appeared. “Jensen, order up.” He paused. “After you deliver these plates, can you come help me back here for a minute?”

  Jensen nodded and turned back to me.

  “Duty calls. I’m leaving here in about an hour to head to the church. It shouldn’t take too long.”

  I held up a hand and twirled around on the barstool. “No need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  I left the diner and headed back toward Harold’s house. If Jensen was leaving in an hour, so would he. I would camp out and wait until he left.

  I didn’t have to wait long. Soon, Harold closed the front door and descended the steps hastily. I sprinted across the road, careful to remain in the shadows in case any people were still in their homes. I walked around the side of the house, testing each window as I passed. Near the back, one was slightly raised. I found a bucket and dumped the contents out into the yard then used it to stand on. A deformed object underneath a car cover caught my eye, and I stopped. Harold’s car sat in front of it.

  I lifted the cover and found the wrecked BMW that I’d rented beneath it. The cover dropped from my hand, and I backed away, too stunned to reason with what I saw.

  What the hell is going on? I thought this was at the repair shop.

  Stepping away, I went back to the window and pushed it up. Something was driving me to figure things out. I hoisted myself onto the frame. Carefully, I crawled over a sink and dropped into the kitchen. The room was elegant but lacked a homey feel. The marble floors were polished with clean crisp white walls and appliances. No family pictures, just a few paintings that looked like they should belong in a museum.

  I dodged a square four-person table and walked into the living room. It was as plain as the first room, only this one had a few plants giving it a splash of color.

  Following a hall, I paused at each door. I found a bedroom that looked like a guest room, and a bathroom. At the end of the hallway was a room unlike the others. Bookcases lined the walls, slammed with books and stacks of papers. A desk sat in the middle, covered with folders, notebooks, and more books.

  I started on the side, pulling a drawer out. A velvet robe was folded neatly inside. I pulled it out and shook out the heavy material. Something hit the floor. I leaned down and picked up a mask made of papier-mâché. The front came to a point, the eyes wide with something that looked like red paint around them and running down. I sniffed it, and pulled it back quickly. Definitely not paint. The pungent odor of copper was too distinct. Blood. I shivered, tucking the outfit back into the drawer.

  I moved to the bookcase. Most were old books, classic literature and a few history books. I moved over to the desk and pulled the switch on the lamp. I shifted some notebooks to examine a calendar hiding beneath. Tomorrow was circled in a bold red marker, but nothing was written there. I froze in place. Had I just heard a sound?

  Nothing but silence met my ears, not even the ticking of a clock. I rolled my eyes. My paranoia was heightened obviously. I moved some papers, and a book fell to the floor, opening. Names were scribbled on each line with dates beneath them. Dates that were all in October. I flipped back to the beginning of the book. Thomas McAdams. My mouth dropped. Harold knew what had happened to Thomas?

  I looked up. Something behind the desk caught my eye. Stacked on top of each other were the suitcases I had brought with me from New York, the ones that I’d left at my grandfather’s house. My stomach dropped. Harold must have gone back and gotten them. There would be no trace that I had ever been at that house. Suddenly, the words from the book made sense. “Someone of his choosing.” The man in the room. The one no one wanted to believe me about, but Harold had met with him this morning. That was who this was all about. The man and me. I was his chosen. How had I missed that?

  Something hard smashed against the back of my head. My body crumbled to the floor. I winced, trying to focus. Warmth pooled at the crown of my skull, dampening my hair. I blinked, fighting the unconsciousness that wanted to claim me. A blurred face appeared over me. A gnarled hand wrapped around my throat and squeezed. I fought to raise my arms. They felt like lead. A cough racked through me. Just as the blurred face became dim, the hand released, and the world somewhat came back into focus. I sucked in air, tears streaming from my eyes.

  “You have the nerve to break into my house, do you?” The question was laced with hatred. “Tomorrow night can’t get here fast enough. Guess I’ll make this easier than anticipated.” Hands wrapped within my hair and yanked hard.

  I cried out. My body slid across the wood floor following heavy footsteps. The sound of rusty hinges filled my stomach with dread. With one final heave, my body was tossed into an underground room beneath the floor. The door slammed shut over me, and a lock clicked into place.

  I swallowed hard, taking in the faint smell of dirt. My fingers dug down, collecting it beneath my nails. I closed my eyes, finally losing my ability to stay conscious.

  I moaned as my eyes opened, taking in the darkness around me. I sat up too fast, hitting my head against the door above, then dropped back to the ground. Pain spooled at the back of my skull. I reached up, fighting through crusted hair, and touched a swollen lump there.

  I was in an impossible situation. My car was outside, covered. My suitcases were hidden in this house. The book. The names. Harold had found me. He had thrown me into this underground dungeon. In. The. Dark. That realization struck me hard. I pounded against the wood, the hinge rattling loudly.

  “Please! Let me out,” I cried. I breathed heavily, feeling sick to my stomach as my head ached. I curled around and heaved, throwing up until my stomach hurt. I stared out in front of me, not knowing what I was looking at since I couldn’t see anything. I wasn’t a little girl anymore. There was no need to be scared of the dark now. Despite me repeating that over and over again, I wanted to be in the light more than anything. I shifted around, facing up again, and reached out to touch the door above me. My fingers grazed rough metal studs. They wiggled at my touch. How long had I been down here? Hours?

  “Piper…”

  I ignored him. The voice. I had a face to put to that voice now. The man in the tomb. I refused to let him in. He couldn’t reach me now. I had to get out of here. I turned the screw with my thumbnail. One dropped, hitting me in the forehead. It rolled to the side as I started on the next. I stopped, my breath freezing in my lungs. Something moved to my right. Something was down here with me. In the dark. The dirt seemed to stir around me, making it hard to breathe as whatever it was moved. Any moment, something would touch me, wrap itself around me, and I would have nowhere to go.

  “Welcome the darkness. Don’t fight it.”

  I twisted the screws faster, and one by one, they fell until th
ere were none left. I shoved against the door, which lifted about an inch. I wiggled, bending my knees, and used my legs to shove.

  Something moved my hair.

  I shrieked, shoving harder. Each push made progress until the door flew open. I scrambled up, expecting Harold to be waiting for me on the other side. But the house was empty. I glanced back into the room. Nothing came out after me. I didn’t wait to see if it would. I ran to the front door and threw it back, only to be met with afternoon light, then tore from the house. I had been there all night. I didn’t care what I had to do. I needed to get away from this town. Far, far from it. As I ran along the street, I searched for a car. At this point, I would steal one. All the driveways were empty. Where was everyone? As I reached the end, I saw vehicles lined down the road, surrounding the tiny church.

  Today was the day. The day that had been circled on his calendar. Now if I didn’t act fast, I would be out of time for whatever they had planned for me. I reached the church as a group of men led by Harold came out. I hid behind a car near the tree line.

  “We need to hurry. The moon will be at its peak before long,” he said.

  They climbed in a SUV and backed out. The car turned toward his house. They were going there to retrieve me. It wouldn’t take them long to get back here and start a manhunt. Panicked, I began looking in every automobile for keys. My heart dropped when I found none. I looked at the church and knew I needed to go in. I needed car keys and fast. I rounded the back of the building and found an unlocked door. I peeked inside before entering.

  Voices cried out from the sanctuary.

  “Tonight we give him what he cries out for. The Chosen that he foresaw years ago and waited patiently for…”

  Moans of agreement followed. “We shall be rewarded greatly. Our town will continue to prosper without the world outside of our town limits. We are able to stand on our own with the blood of one. One that will be welcomed to the darkness with open arms as her soul becomes his,” the man’s voice shouted over the crowd.

  This seemed to pump them up. Hoots and hollers retorted at his words. Looking through an opening, I stared at the back of Dr. Brown commanding the attention of the crowd from the pulpit. Annie sat in the front pew, her hands in the air. Faces I recognized from the diner were there, along with the man that I’d seen talking to Harold the day before. There was no way I could get in there to get anyone’s keys. Everyone would see me. I looked around in the room I was in hoping someone had put their stuff back here. The space was pretty bare. Running was the only other option I had. If I could make it to a main road, I could hitchhike.