Burnwood - The Dragon Arum

by Sarah La Rose

CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I stood at the end of the second floor hallway, staring up at the stairs to the third floor. I’m not sure why I felt so nervous about going up there, but I did.

  I wiped my palms on my jeans and swallowed the lump in my throat, taking the first step up. My footsteps echoed, amplified in the silence. I wanted to pretend like the quiet was comforting, but wasn’t. It reminded me that I was alone. I focused on counting my steps in my head, hoping to keep my mind occupied. But the closer I got to the third floor, the more I started recognizing the scene I was walking into.

  Strangely, the west wing of the school seemed perfectly suited to host an episode of The Walking Dead. Yes, it was absolutely perfect for a neck-biting, trapped-inside-an-abandoned-building-with-no-hope-in-hell, zombie attack.

  There’s no such thing as zombies, there’s no such thing as zombies, there’s no…Wait! If people like Carter exist than anything was possible.

  I quickened my pace, making a mental note to take the corners wide.

  I reach the third floor and looked down at the large black leather book tucked under my arm. The answer to my questions lay within the pages of this book. I was finally going to know something about my past. I didn’t let the thought sink in- it wouldn’t be wise to start daydreaming about something as sensitive as belonging. After all, I was still 16 years old and at the mercy of a spur-of-the-moment kind of uncle who never seemed able to stay in one place for long.

  It wasn’t like I didn’t wonder why we moved so often, I even asked once or twice. It was always the same answer- work. Moving was one of those things we never really talked about. He would give me the same answers, like he was rehearsing a script from memory.

  I padded the cover of the book and smiled justly. This would be my defining moment in Burnwood’s legacy.

  I looked around. It was a library alright, which was somewhat disappointing. I suppose all the secrecy about the third floor had my imagination running wild with images of all sorts of fantastical things. I was embarrassed to admit it, but I half expected a lair filled with ancient artifacts.

  I could see why the school cordoned it off; it was tiny, unkempt, and an obvious danger zone with its towering bookshelves.

  I took the first table I came across. It was positioned against the east corner of the library, next to a large window and between two tall bookshelves. There were four chairs positioned around the table, so I used the first to hold my book bag and sat down on the one beside it.

  The library was quiet, only the hum of the furnace filling the air, but I didn’t mind. The noise was actually kind of comforting. In the city there was always some kind of noise, whether it was traffic or sirens or even just the sound of your neighbor coming up the staircase. I guess I kind of got used to that over the years.

  I took a deep breath and flipped to the first page of the book. I was expecting an introduction or perhaps a table of contents, but what I got was quite unanticipated. Where I had expected words, there was a huge, detailed drawing of a monstrous, fire-breathing dragon, but more shocking was the eyes. They glowed like embers- blazing red, just the way I remembered Carter’s had. I stared at the picture, studying its every detail: the curves of the long, elegant tale, the span of the enormous wings, the snarling look of its frighteningly realistic profile, and its atrociously long claws. It was both terrifying and enthralling.

  I flipped through the pages, one after another, until my eyes began to hurt from trying to decipher the handwritten cursive covering the pages. I had never encountered a book that was handwritten before. In fact, I was sure they didn’t make such literature after the invention of the typewriter, which gave me an indication of just how old the book really was.

  I took a bottle of water from my bag and took a sip before turning back to the book, but before I could focus a loud clinking noise echoed up the staircase. I got up and cautiously made my way to the stairwell.

  “Hello,” I said.

  I turned back towards my table just as another loud noise came from somewhere downstairs.

  “Is anyone there,” I called, this time taking a few steps down the stairs. “Classes have been canceled for the day. There’s no need to be here.”

  I waited, but again, no response.

  I descended the stairs, this time more quickly, but when I reached the second floor I found it as eerily quiet as before. I was ready to turn back, but I caught a glimpse of dark hair and black pants. The figure turned down another hall before I could make out who it was. “Hey!”

  I started into a slow jog, coming around the corner to another empty hallway.

  I looked through the glass window on the door to the classroom beside me, but it was clear, as was the next two classes. I don’t know if I was planning on checking every room, but I never got the chance. My phone rang and I reached into my pocket to retrieve it.

  It was Carter.

  “Hey,” I said. “How’d the thing with your dad go?”

  “Actually, that’s what I’m calling about. I need you to grab the book and meet me in the parking lot. I’m just pulling up now.”

  “But, I’ve only gotten through the first 10 pages. You know, it’s kind of a hard read.”

  “I’ll explain later, but for now we need to get that book home before my dad gets there.”

  Suddenly, I understood all too well what was happening. Carter’s father was on his way home and probably for that book.

  I ran back to the third floor and tossed all my belonging into my bag. I reached for the center of the table where I had left the book, but my hand fell flat on the table top. It was gone.

  I dropped to my knees and searched under the table and chairs, nothing. I frantically grabbed for my book bag, silently praying that I had simply tucked it away and forgotten. I flipped the bag upside down, pouring the contents onto the table, but it wasn’t there either. I sulked down into the chair and let my head fall into my open palms. I wanted to cry, but the adrenaline racing through my veins made my stomach feel queasy and I didn’t want to run the risk of throwing up all over the library floor. That would be just my luck.

  “Annabelle.”

  I knew I would have to tell him what happened to his father’s book, but that didn’t make me any more prepared for it. I let him call my name a few more times before he reached the third floor.

  I took a deep breath and drew myself up from the chair. “I’m here.”

  He stopped, taking in my sullen demeanor. “What happened?”

  He placed his hands gently on my shoulders. It was so comforting that it only amplified my guilt. Here he was comforting me when I so carelessly lost one of his most precious possessions.

  “Carter,” I said hesitantly. “I have something to tell you.”

  He looked on patiently, waiting for me to continue.

  “The book is gone.”

  I stared at the floor so I wouldn’t have to see the look of disappointment on his face. At least, I hoped it was disappointment and not anger, but I wouldn’t blame him if it was both. He trusted me with something incredibly important to his family and I had lost it. In fact, I had lost it within the hour he had left me alone with it.

  “I know you must be really mad right now,” I started, taking his hand in mine as I looked up into his hazel eyes.

  “Wait,” he said. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”

  “I’m not really sure. I had it right here,” I said, walking over to the table were my book bag laid sprawled across the floor. “I was reading it and then I heard something on the main floor. I went to investigate it when you called. After that I came right back here and it was gone. I swear I was only gone for a minute.”

  “Who was it?” he asked.

  “Who was what?”

  “Who was the person making the noise on the second floor?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t get a good look at whoever it was. He was gone before I got to the end of the hallway.”

  “And then you
came right back here and it was gone?”

  “Yes, and I remember I left it right here,” I said tapping the top of the table. “I don’t know where it could’ve disappeared to. Maybe a janitor came across it and put it away? I’ll go back to the office and ask Gwendolyn to page the janitor.”

  I started back for the stairs when he caught me by the elbow.

  “Wait,” he said, eyeing something behind me. “Was that window open when you got here?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at the partially opened window. I could have sworn it was closed when I first came up here. In fact, part of the reason I choose this table was for the light coming in through the window. I would’ve noticed if it had been opened, wouldn’t I?

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  He turned on his heels and darted down the staircase.

  I hastily threw all of my belongings back into my book bag and hurried to catch up to him. Luckily, I found him on the second floor, waiting for me.

  “Sorry,” he said. “When I’m focused the supernatural speed is kind of difficult to control.”

  “That’s fine, but can you fill me in on what’s going on? That way we can both be focused on it.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and then leaned in and, in a quieted voice said, “Look, there are things going on here that I can’t really explain right now.”

  I lowered my voice to match his. “Things about that book or about you?”

  He was quiet for a moment, looking at me with the same look on his face that I had seen so many times before.

  He took my hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait.”

  He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close so that his words whispered into my ear. “Annabelle, we can’t talk right now.”

  “Why not?”

  He looked down the hallway and then back at me. “We’re being watched.”