A Girl Called Dust

by V. B. Marlowe

  “Good. Listen, Trent’s here. I want you to meet him. He’s outside.” So that’s why her lipstick was smeared.

  “Oh, okay.” I was looking forward to meeting this Trent guy who had caused so much fuss between Bailey and Lacey. I hoped he was worth the trouble. I did know that if he had chosen Bailey over Lacey, he had something going for him.

  “Mary-Kate, I’m going to go now. Thanks, that was fun.”

  She gave me a quick hug. “Thanks for playing.” Then she turned back to Jeremiah and challenged him at darts.

  On the way downstairs, Bailey applied a fresh layer of lip gloss. “Have you talked to any guys? There’s plenty of hotties here.”

  I shook my head. Talking to guys was the last thing on my mind. I was simply trying to survive the party without embarrassing myself.

  Outside, Bailey led me to a tall guy dressed in a flannel shirt, overalls, and a black lumberjack beanie standing on the edge of the patio, holding a beer. He looked uncomfortable and almost as if he felt he were too cool for the party. I supposed he hadn’t figured he’d be spending his Halloween with a bunch of high school kids.

  “Arden, this is my boyfriend, Trent, and Trent, this is Arden,” Bailey said as Trent and I shook hands. He gripped my hand tightly, but his skin was soft.

  “Nice to meet you, Arden.”

  “You too.”

  Trent was definitely cute. Tan with dark features and curly hair. I couldn’t quite tell what nationality he was, and he didn’t have any sort of accent. He wrapped his arms around Bailey’s shoulders and pulled her close to him. “This house is amazing,” he said pointing to it with his beer as if we’d think he was talking about another house.

  “Isn’t it?” Bailey agreed. “We should have a place like this one day.” Trent pulled her closer, giving her a peck on the forehead.

  Lacey staggered over, thankfully ignoring me, and talked to Bailey as if Trent wasn’t standing right there. Surely she wasn’t going to let him off the hook for choosing Bailey over her. Lacey leaned in close to Bailey as if she were about to whisper but then practically shouted in her ear. “The drummer has had his eye on you all night. You should totally give him your number. He’s hot, right?”

  Bailey flushed and glanced at Trent, who rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer.

  Small groups floated toward the woods behind Trista’s house, and an uneasy feeling settled in my gut. A month and a half had passed since Mr. Thompson had been killed, and we were still advised to stay away from wooded areas, especially at night. Maybe the excitement of Halloween paired with the abundance of alcohol had made everyone forget.

  The outer trees had been decorated with neon-orange spider webs and glow-in-the-dark spiders. Although I was afraid, I was curious to know what was going on out there.

  The band started up on a fast-paced song perfect for dancing. Lacey grabbed Bailey’s hands and spun underneath them. “Oh, I love this song. Dance with me, Bai!”

  Lacey’s phoniness was so obvious. She didn’t want to dance with Bailey. She only wanted to keep her away from Trent, who looked like he wanted to make a break for it.

  Bailey pulled away from Lacey. “Actually, Trent and I were going to take a walk. Why don’t you and Arden dance?”

  Really, Bailey? Really?

  Lacey glared at me. “Oh, Dust. I didn’t see you there. Nice costume.” The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable. Lacey wouldn’t pay me a compliment if someone was threatening her to do it at gunpoint. She narrowed her eyes at Trent and Bailey. “You two go ahead and take your walk. I’ll keep Dust here company. God knows, no one else will talk to her.”

  Bailey threw me a sympathetic look that said, “Sorry, but my boyfriend’s more important than you right now.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. Why shouldn’t she spend time with her boyfriend? “Go. I’ll be waiting here, I guess.”

  The two of them ran off toward the trees with their matching costumes, looking like the most perfect couple ever. I wondered if I would ever be part of a couple. The only guys I was slightly interested in were colossal jerks or had no interest in dating, period.

  Lacey sighed. “So . . .”

  Lost in my thoughts, I’d almost forgotten she was standing there.

  “You and Bailey are getting close again.”

  I shrugged. I knew she wasn’t happy about Bailey and I hanging out, and I wasn’t about to give her any ammunition.

  Lacey rolled her eyes at me and then looked out toward the trees. “That guy’s horrible for her, you know. He’s going to break her heart.”

  I shifted from foot to foot, trying to think of an excuse to walk away. I didn’t want to discuss Trent or Bailey with her. Fletcher would have simply walked away by now. No explanation given.

  “He seems okay.”

  Lacey scoffed. “You’ve met him for what? Five seconds? Trust me. My older sister knows him and the guys he hangs out with. She’s told me stories, but Bailey won’t listen. He’s going to use her and then dump her. Trent has lots of girlfriends on campus.”

  “Really? Then why were you trying to get with him?” I’d probably meant to think those words, but they had actually come out. I wanted to take them back immediately.

  Lacey’s evil glare clashed with her angelic costume. “Who told you that? Bailey? Of course she did! What did she say?”

  “Um, I have to go to the bathroom.” I turned to leave, but Lacey clutched my arm. Her nails sank into my skin.

  “What did she tell you?” Lacey demanded through clenched teeth.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “It’s a huge deal. She better not be going around telling everyone that I want her boyfriend like some kind of pathetic loser.”

  Of course. Lacey had an image to maintain. The image that she was the girl who could have any guy she wanted. I pried my arm from Lacey’s grip. “Look, she didn’t tell me anything. Calm down.”

  Lacey looked around to make sure no one was witnessing her slight meltdown. “Whatever she told you was a lie. Trent came after me.” She looked in the direction they had gone, frowning. “I hope they both get mauled by the Teacher Killer.”

  “Lacey!”

  The Teacher Killer was the crude name some kids had given to the mysterious animal that had taken the lives of our teachers.

  Next thing I knew, Lacey was marching toward the woods. Great. My big mouth was going to cause a huge fight between Bailey and Lacey, and Bailey would probably stop speaking to me altogether.

  Maybe if I hurried, I could find Bailey before Lacey did and warn her.

  The wooded area was definitely spooky. Flashes of light from cell phones blinked on and off amongst the trees, creating an abundance of scary shadows. Shouting and laughter came from all directions. No, nobody seemed concerned about random animal attacks. The scent of weed filled my nostrils.

  I bumped into a couple leaned against a tree, making out. They threw me dirty looks and then went right back to fighting each other’s tonsils. Ranson and a group of his friends were huddled nearby, whispering something, probably planning some sort of stupid prank. A group of seniors stood in a group engaged in what seemed to be a very deep conversation. There was no sign of Bailey, Trent, or Lacey.

  A girl’s piercing scream came from far away. Everything fell silent, and then the silence filled with laughter. After a few more screams I had to admit that I wasn’t alarmed myself. Someone was just goofing around. It was a Halloween party, after all.

  Seconds later, more screams came, and some sounded like they were coming from a guy too. Still not alarmed, I turned toward the sound. A strong wind blew, causing the trees to sway and rustle. More screams cut through the whipping winds, but they weren’t fun screams. They were throat-tearing, gut-wrenching screams. Panicked shouting and the pounding of feet came from the direction of the screaming.

  “Somebody help me!” a girl shrieked. That was Bailey. I knew her voice anywhere. I immediately r
an toward her voice. She screamed again. A group of boys came racing in the opposite direction—away from where Bailey’s screams were coming.

  I shone the light from my phone at them, and they stopped to catch their breaths.

  “What’s happening?” I asked.

  A scarecrow bent over, panting. “We saw something. Something’s back there!”

  “Some kind of animal,” shouted a kid dressed like a creepy clown.

  “The Teacher Killer!” someone shouted. “Come on! Go!”

  The boys kept going, and I rushed forward. Bailey wasn’t screaming anymore. My phone lit the area ahead of me. I stopped and looked around. I was alone. I had gone so deep into the woods that no one else was there, or whatever creature the boys were talking about had scared all the kids off. Shivers ran through my body, although I was sure someone in a scary costume was playing a joke. Even so, I would feel better once I found Bailey.

  I took cautious steps forward until someone whimpered. Pointing my phone at the ground, I found Bailey on her back with her arms outstretched. Huge scratches ran from her nose down to her neck and chest. I gagged at the sight of her skin torn and hanging. She looked as if something with razor-sharp claws had mauled her. Bailey looked up at me with watering eyes, trying to say something.

  I knelt beside her and dialed 9-1-1, taking one of her hands, which was slick with blood. “Bailey, what happened to you?”

  “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

  Her lip quivered as she struggled to talk.

  “What is your emergency?” I knew I needed to answer the man on the other end, but what Bailey was about to say was life-and-death important. It might solve the other mysterious killings. I didn’t know if she would still be alive by the time the phone call was over.

  “Bailey, what did this?” I asked again. I shone the light from my phone on her face.

  She looked me dead in the eye and pulled her hand from mine. “You did.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I want to go see Bailey. We have to go to the hospital right now,” I told Mom as she drove me away from Trista’s house. The street was flooded with terrified parents looking for their kids and kids freaking out about what had happened.

  Mom stared straight ahead, not taking her eyes off the road. “I don’t think her mother would want you there. Besides, I’m sure she won’t be up for any visitors tonight. Even when she is, I wouldn’t bank on seeing her.”

  Mom was right. If Mrs. Benson didn’t want Bailey around me, there would be no exceptions. She was super strict and meant business. I bet she had even yelled at Bailey about her costume change once they were tucked inside the ambulance.

  Mom gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were turning white. “And that poor boy. . . just nineteen years old.”

  Trent was that poor boy. He’d been found a few yards away from Bailey, ripped to shreds. I heard someone at the scene say he was unrecognizable.

  I looked down at my ruined costume. I’d arrived at the party wearing fake blood, but I was leaving with my friend’s blood caked into my favorite dress and stained on my hands.

  Mom sighed and patted my knee. “I’m sorry you had to see that. You just have to be at the wrong places at the wrong times, don’t you?”

  I couldn’t tell if she was simply making an observation or accusing me of something.

  My thoughts went back to Bailey’s words when I’d asked what had attacked her. Why would she say me? She must have been in so much pain and shock that she hadn’t been thinking straight. It was terrifying to think that awful creature was just roaming the woods where we were. Any of us could have been attacked.

  Mom slammed on her brakes at a red light, almost sending us both through the windshield. Thank goodness for seatbelts. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t know what we were thinking. I guess we thought you kids would have enough sense not to go into those woods, but apparently not. And where were Trista’s parents?”

  I shrugged. By the time we left, the Pimentels still hadn’t shown up.

  Mom answered her own question. “Probably at that masquerade ball in Hanover.” She sounded bitter. She would have been at the ball too if Dad weren’t away. “You’re to stay away from those woods at night and during the day. You hear me?”

  “Yes, Mom.” I had no intentions of going near the woods ever again. Fletcher had been right. I should have listened to him and stayed home from the party. Of course, that wouldn’t have changed what happened to Bailey.

  I feel like something bad is going to happen.

  How had he known?

  Part 3

  What I Am Not

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bailey survived her attack, although she never came back to school. She wouldn’t let anyone see her until she had finished all her plastic surgery procedures. Until then, she was being home schooled. I only knew this stuff because Mary-Kate had told me. Bailey had blocked my number and refused the flowers I’d sent, making it painfully clear that she wanted nothing to do with me ever again. Why was she still believing that I was the one who had hurt her?

  She was going through a lot and still reeling from Trent’s death, so I decided to give her space. I told myself that she would come around eventually.

  Dad had come back November first as always, with no reasonable explanation for why he had ignored everyone’s phone calls. “I knew you guys could handle things while I was away, and I was right. Everyone’s okay, healthy, and in one piece, right?”

  But he was still lying. I looked at Mom as Dad climbed the stairs with his suitcases. She flipped through the day’s mail as if everything was normal. Really? She wasn’t going to say anything? But then, she had been acting weird too, as if the whole thing was no big deal. She’d had Paige’s window replaced, and that was the end of it. No reinforced security, no more talking about it, no nothing.

  “Wait, Dad.”

  He paused halfway up the staircase. “Yes?”

  “Paige was kidnapped and we didn’t hear from you once when it happened. We called and called. Don’t you have anything to say about that?”

  Dad sighed and looked down at his luggage. “Honey, what happened to Paige was a terrible ordeal. I think it’s best if we forget about it and don’t speak of it again, for Paige’s sake.”

  “But, Dad—”

  “Arden, that’s it!” Dad yelled. Mom looked up from where she had been flipping through a catalog. “It’s over and we won’t talk about it anymore.”

  I didn’t dare say another word about it.

  A few nights later I awoke to the sounds of thumping on the roof. It sounded as if someone very heavy was walking on it. Grabbing my pillow, I sat up, only to hit my head against something.

  The lamp on my nightstand switched on, and Dad stood over me. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  The noise above us continued. “Dad, what’s going on? What are you doing in here? What’s that noise?”

  “Arden, someone is here for you. He has to take you now.”

  I moved away from him. “What? What are you talking about?”

  My heart raced. The boy with the wings. He really existed, and he hadn’t forgotten about me. I shivered as a cool burst of wind pulsed through the room. The double doors that led to the balcony were open. “Dad, did you open those doors?”

  The lines in Dad’s forehead were prominent. I’d never seen him look so sad and worried before. “I wish I could protect you from this, but I can’t. No matter where I’d take you or try to hide you, they would find us.”

  A loud thud came from the balcony. A huge shirtless boy with ripped muscles and two large black wings swung into my bedroom. He had to retract his wings to fit through the door.

  My throat closed so tightly that I almost couldn’t breathe. “Dad?”

  “I’m sorry, Arden. It’s time.”

  Dad stepped back and allowed the winged boy to snatch me roughly from my bed. I screamed and kicked as he pinned my arms to my sides, but fi
ghting was no use. The boy was a hundred times stronger than me.

  My sisters were screaming, and a door slammed somewhere in the house. Mom shouted that everything was all right, but everything wasn’t all right. My father was letting this strange winged creature manhandle me. Why wasn’t he fighting for me? Why was he just standing there letting it happen?

  The boy held me with one arm and dug into his pocket for something.

  “Please,” Dad told him. “You don’t have to use that.”

  “I do.” The boy’s voice was gruff and strong but not mean. “I’m sorry, but she can’t know our location. Not yet.”

  I looked at my father again, pleading. “Dad, please.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey. It’s okay. They won’t hurt you. You’re one of them.”

  “One of them? What does that mean? One of what?”

  The boy dragged me toward the window. I fought as hard as I could, wiggling to escape his grasp. I couldn’t believe my father was just watching this happen and that Mom was somewhere doing nothing.

  My bare feet slid across the cold hardwood. I glared at my father. “I know now. I know I’m not your real daughter. That’s why you’re letting this happen. Because you don’t love me.”

  I had never seen anyone look as hurt as my father did then. My words might have been harsh, but they had to be true. It was the only way to justify my parents not helping me.

  Something sharp pricked my neck. I felt the overwhelming urge to sleep. The next thing I knew, I was floating over our quiet, darkened neighborhood and then nothing.

  I woke up to what looked like some sort of makeshift hospital room in a bed covered with crisp white sheets. Black straps tied my arms to the metal railings on the sides. Computers and television monitors were set up around the room. Things that looked like hospital IVs and a few extra beds sat in dark corners. It was just as Paige had described it.

  Searching the room for the door, my gaze landed on the winged boy who had stolen me, although his wings weren’t visible at that moment. He chomped on an orange, eating the peel and all.