by John Manning
But in that same moment, her phone rang. She saw it was Billy’s number.
“Hey,” he said when she picked up. “I see you just called.”
“I was just worried about you, that’s all.”
He grunted.
“How’s Mike?” Sue asked.
“No change,” Billy replied. “Listen. Would you go with me to see him at the hospital tomorrow? I know you said in your e-mail you can’t leave campus, but tomorrow’s Saturday…”
“We can leave on weekends if we get a pass,” Sue said.
“So will you go with me?”
Sue hesitated. “Have you been up to see him since that night?”
“No. His parents weren’t letting visitors in.” Billy’s voice sounded horrible. Empty. Dried up. “But now they think maybe it’ll help him if he knew I was there. Not that he’s conscious. But they say sometimes, even in comas…” His voice broke.
“I’ll go with you,” Sue told him.
“Thanks, Sue. I just can’t make the drive…by myself.”
He told her he’d call in the morning, then they said goodbye. No niceties, no lovey-dovey stuff.
Sue sat holding her phone after hanging up, just staring straight ahead.
Then, all at once, she leapt from her bed and hurried to her computer. She quickly typed out an e-mail.
I need to talk to you—soon. It can’t wait.
Then she hit SEND—to Joyce Davenport.
42
Across campus, not far away, a weak, hungry Tish Lewis finally heard the familiar creak of the stairs.
It had been days since the figure had last come to bring her food. Maybe weeks. Time was blurring together for her. She was losing her grip on reality—perhaps what they wanted.
She had been primed to strike. To fight back. Had they known? Could they read her mind? Was that why they stopped coming?
Why had they stopped feeding her?
Tish’s cell was now filthy with the smells of her own body. Water had begun dripping in from somewhere above. The place reeked, and Tish was cold.
But still alive, she told herself. Still alive.
The key was in the lock. Tish did her best to keep her wits, to stay strong.
The iron door swung open and the red-robed figure came inside.
Was it Mrs. Oosterhouse? If it was someone else—someone stronger—Tish wasn’t sure she’d have much of a chance.
“Think we’d forgotten about you?” the figure asked.
It was rare for it to speak—but its words reassured Tish.
It was Oostie.
“Here, slut,” she said, placing in front of Tish a plastic tray holding a piece of crusty bread and a glass of water. “Don’t die quite yet. We’ve come up with another plan for you.”
Tish devoured the bread and gulped down the water. The red-robed figure lifted the pail, now overflowing with Tish’s waste.
“Filthy slut,” the figure said as it passed Tish, closing the door after exiting.
Sudden terror struck Tish. Might this be my last meal? If so, there’d be no need to return with the pail. And then no chance for me to fight back—
In the days she’d been left alone, Tish had kept her sanity by sharpening that broken handle. She’d unhook it from the pail and scrape it against the brick wall. It was now sharper than most knives. It would do the job—if she was given a chance.
To her great relief, the door creaked open again, and the figure returned with the pail. It set the pail down, then turned once more to Tish.
In the split second it took for the figure to bend down to retrieve the now-empty tray and glass, Tish leapt—grabbing the pail and swinging out with it, whacking it against the figure’s head. Stunned, the figure staggered against the wall, giving Tish just enough time to unclasp the handle, and stab it deep into the figure’s gut.
Mrs. Oosterhouse let out a bloodcurdling howl of pain.
With great effort, Tish gripped the handle and cut upward. It wouldn’t be enough just to stab her. She had to cut—inflict as much damage as she could. She had planned it all out in those long hours in the dark.
“You…. slut!” Oostie shrieked, as the sharp metal handle sliced through her tissue, piercing her stomach.
Warm blood covered Tish’s hand.
“Why was I kidnapped?” Tish demanded. “Why did you kill Joelle?”
“Help me,” Oostie tried to scream, but her voice was too weak. She was sliding down the wall where Tish had attacked her.
“I swear to God I’ll rip out your guts,” Tish told her. “Tell me what’s going on in this house! Tell me how to get out!”
“You can’t escape,” Oostie managed to say.
“You were planning to drink my blood, you freak! Just like you drank Joelle’s!”
“Not yours,” Oostie said. “Not after I confirmed the stories about you were true. You’re no virgin! Your blood is no good to us!”
With a sudden, merciless yank, Tish pulled the handle out of Mrs. Oosterhouse’s belly, causing a terrible popping sound. The chubby dorm chaperone fell hard to the floor on her big fat ass.
“But you were still going to kill me,” Tish said. “You and Dean Gregory. And who else? Is the whole administration involved?”
“You can’t escape,” Oostie said. “Help!” She tried to scream again. “Somebody help—”
“I’ll put an end to that,” Tish said, and with one well-aimed swipe, she cut Oostie’s throat, severing her jugular. Blood spurted forth like an opened fire hydrant. Oostie’s mouth moved a few more times, but no sound came out. Then her head sunk down on her chest.
Holding tight to the bloody handle, Tish stepped out of her cell. She was in a basement. Old furniture was covered with drop cloths. Metal file cabinets rusted against a far wall. The small windows that were set high in the walls were papered over with cardboard.
Tish found the stairs.
She had no idea where they led, or who might be upstairs waiting for her. But she began to climb, the sharp pail handle that had saved her life held out in front of her.
43
All the way up to the hospital that next morning Billy barely said a word.
Sue had offered to drive, but like the typical boy he was, Billy had insisted on taking his mother’s Toyota. Sue had tried making conversation, but Billy would just grunt. Why am I even here? she thought a number of times.
When they pulled into the parking garage of the Senandaga hospital, Billy turned off the ignition, placed his head down on the steering wheel—and started to cry.
Sue was stunned.
“Billy,” she said, reaching over and touching his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
He looked at her with the tears just pouring from his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Everything is wrong. And it’s all my fault.”
“Your fault?”
He nodded. “My best friend is in there, probably dying. But not just him. Heidi is in there, too. And she’s probably dying as well.”
“Billy,” Sue said, stroking his hair. “How can that be your fault?”
“Both of them were upset. Upset with me! You saw Heidi with me just minutes before she collapsed. She was all worked up and crying. I caused her heart attack!”
“They haven’t diagnosed it as a heart attack,” Sue reminded him. “They don’t know what’s wrong with Heidi. Or Mike. You had nothing to do with—”
“Mr. Bingham told me that Mike had been upset that I was late. He said Mike felt I hadn’t been around much for him—even though I knew what he was going through, worrying about his sister…” Billy sobbed again.
“Billy,” Sue reasoned, “you can’t blame yourself.”
“It’s me!” Billy cried. “I caused this!”
“It’s not you,” Sue said.
It’s me.
But blaming herself was equally crazy. Neither of them had the kind of power that could cause spontaneous illness in people. To imagine they did was pure insanity.
&
nbsp; “Doctors are speculating there may have been something going around at your school,” Sue said. “That’s why both Mike and Heidi were struck.”
“They don’t know what’s wrong with them! Why they’re both in comas!”
Sue smiled kindly. “Do you really think you can cause people to fall into comas?”
When she said it that way, Sue even convinced herself that her own feelings of guilt were ridiculous. Billy just sighed, looked away, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
“Let’s go in,” he said,
Senandaga General Hospital wasn’t much of a hospital by any stretch of the imagination. There was a wing with rooms for patients and an emergency room, but other than instant care—resuscitations, stitching up wounds, and setting broken bones—most patients had to be sent on to one of the bigger hospitals in the county.
Sue’s eyes squinted as they entered, the fluorescent lights nearly blinding her. Billy told her he’d be okay, that she could wait for him in the lobby as he went in to see Mike. Sue gave him a quick kiss. She wondered if he’d go to see Heidi as well. They didn’t discuss that part.
If he does, there’s no problem, Sue told herself. I won’t be jealous.
I can’t be jealous.
Look at what happened last time.
After Billy had headed off down the hall, she put a dollar in the soda machine, hitting the button to dispense a can of Diet Coke. She found a seat opposite an old man who appeared to be sleeping. Sue popped the lid of her Diet Coke and took a sip, idly pulling a battered copy of People magazine onto her lap. Brad and Angelina were adopting another baby.
Ten minutes later, her eyes lifted from the magazine. It was strange—one of those intuitive moments when you just know someone is looking at you. Sue’s eyes met those of another girl, several years younger than she was and sitting opposite her in the place where the old man had been sleeping. Sue hadn’t been aware of the man leaving, nor the girl arriving.
“Hello,” the girl said to Sue.
“Hello,” Sue said back.
The girl had thick dark hair that reached all the way down her back. She wore a white blouse over a pair of jeans. Her hands were in her lap, holding rosary beads.
“Are you Sue?” the girl asked.
Startled, Sue nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am. And you are?”
“Bernadette deSalis, Mike’s sister.” Bernadette gave her a smile.
“Oh,” Sue said. “Billy must have told you I was out here.”
Bernadette didn’t confirm it, just smiled again.
“How is your brother doing?” Sue asked.
“He’s going to be fine.”
Sue sighed with relief. “Well, that’s great. What does the doctor say?”
“Oh, nothing. But I know Mike’s going to be fine.”
Sue studied the girl sitting opposite her. Goose bumps rose inexplicably on her own arms. There was something about Bernadette—something Sue found unsettling.
Get away from her. Now.
She shrugged off the instinct, but still—
This was the one who was sick. Who’d been in the hospital herself. No one knew what was wrong with her…
“It seems odd, doesn’t it?” Bernadette asked.
“I’m sorry,” Sue said. “What seems odd?”
“That not long ago it was I who languished in the hospital, and Mike came to see me.” Bernadette smiled again. That smile was freaking Sue out. “And now it’s the other way around.”
She read my mind, Sue thought.
“But Mike’s going to be fine. I just wanted you to know that.”
“I’m…I’m glad.”
Bernadette laughed, a sweet tinkling sound that set Sue’s teeth on edge. “I know you were there when he collapsed, so I know you must be particularly worried about him. But I can assure you, Sue. Mike will be fine. And so will Heidi Swettenham.”
Get away from her now.
Sue stood, knocking the magazine from her lap to the floor. “I’m—I’m going to get some air,” she said.
“It was nice to meet you, Sue,” Bernadette said, extending her hand.
Don’t take her hand.
But that’s rude. Billy would be furious if he learned I snubbed his best friend’s sister…
She reached over. Her fingers touched Bernadette’s.
And time seemed to stop.
Sue could hear her own breathing, but her vision blurred, just before everything went completely dark. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Her throat was dry, and all of the strength seemed to drain out of her body. The only thing she could make out was Bernadette’s face. The whole room had vanished in blackness, but the girl’s face still filled Sue’s vision.
Bernadette’s eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, and there was a humming sound coming from her throat, a humming that Sue could barely hear over the sound of her own lungs working, rasping as they drew in and expelled air. A light seemed to surround Bernadette’s head. The girl’s long dark hair began to rise into the air as the light intensified, blinding Sue in its intensity.
You won’t win, Sue found herself thinking, screaming silently at the girl. I’m stronger than you are—
And then her hand disengaged from Bernadette’s, and the room returned to normal.
Sue staggered, her knees buckling. She sat down hard on the floor. Vaguely she was aware of Bernadette getting up from her chair and approaching her.
She forced herself to look over at the girl. Bernadette had knelt beside her. Her eyes were closed, her lips moving. Sue tried to get to her feet, but her head spun and she sank again to the floor.
She’s praying, Sue realized in amazement, looking at Bernadette. She’s praying over me!
A nurse’s aide had rushed over when she saw Sue fall. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Sue looked up at her. She was young, African-American. “Help me up, please,” Sue said. The aide gripped her by the arm and helped her stand. “I guess I fainted.”
Bernadette was standing now, too. “Poor Sue,” she said. “You must be really worried about Mike and Heidi.”
“You come on back with me,” the aide was saying. “I want to check your blood pressure.”
“No, really, I’m fine,” Sue said, her eyes locked on Bernadette.
“I think you should let me check—”
“No!” Sue snapped. “I’m fine! Please leave me alone. I just fainted, that’s all. I haven’t eaten much this morning.”
“I can’t force you,” the aide said. “But maybe you ought to get a sandwich from one of the vending machines.”
“Please,” Sue said, gentler now. “I’ll be fine.”
Sue sat down, the aide moving away, looking back over her shoulder at her, while shaking her head.
Bernadette sat beside Sue.
Sue stared at her. “What did you do to me?” she asked in a low, hard voice.
“I didn’t do anything.” Bernadette looked at her with innocent dark eyes. “Maybe your blood sugar is low—not only from lack of eating, but from worry.”
Sue said nothing. She just stared straight ahead, wishing Billy would come back.
Bernadette leaned in to her. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Sue snapped. “Why do you think you know so much about me?”
Bernadette smiled kindly. “You—you really don’t know, do you?” She peered at Sue, her eyes narrowed. “No, you don’t.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense to me.” She cocked her head as though she were listening to someone, and then nodded. “That makes it even more wrong. Yes, you’re right, I do understand. I will pray for her.”
She’s insane, Sue thought, her eyes widening. She’s listening to voices no one else can hear.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Bernadette moved to touch Sue’s arm, then seemed to think better of it, and stopped. She clasped her hands back in her lap with her rosary beads. “Maybe I can even help you, S
ue.”
“I don’t need any help,” Sue told her.
“No one wants to harm you, Sue. That’s not a part of the plan.”
“Plan?”
She’s crazy, that’s it, she is completely insane. The best thing to do is to get as far away from her as possible.
“God’s plan.” Bernadette shrugged. “We are all just pawns, you know. He moves us around in His infinite wisdom. That’s why He sent the Holy Mother to speak to me—that’s why He allowed you to be born, despite the great danger to you and all the rest of us. It’s not for us to understand.”
Sue was fed up with her. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You can’t help what you are, after all.” Bernadette went on as though Sue hadn’t interrupted her. “And now I understand somewhat better than I did before. You don’t know—you really don’t know.”
“I’m going out to the car to wait for Billy,” Sue said, standing.
“They never told you the truth, did they?”
Sue glared down at her. “Who?”
“Your grandparents.” Bernadette’s eyes widened in sympathy. “Oh, you poor thing. When the Holy Mother told me about you, I couldn’t understand how you could do these things, how you could live with yourself. But now that I understand, it’s so much worse.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Because you don’t know. They’re just using you—just as they used your mother.”
“You don’t make any sense!” Sue shouted.
“And yet they are victims, too, I suppose. The true villain is the darkness that comes into their hearts, the darkness sent by…” The girl looked at Sue with strange, wide eyes. “I call him Lucifer Morning Star. Does the name mean anything to you, Sue?”
“You’re crazy.”
“Lucifer Morning Star. Who one night met your mother and…”
“You crazy bitch, stop saying these things!” Sue shouted, covering her ears with her hands. “What do you know about my mother? My mother is dead!”
“No, she isn’t,” Bernadette said sadly. “I’m so very sorry, Sue.”
Sue turned and ran out of the room. She couldn’t listen to any more of this. She ran down the hallway and out into the parking lot, but her stomach heaved before she could make it to the car. The Diet Coke came spewing forth from her mouth and her nose, burning the insides of her nostrils. She sank to her knees on the pavement and started to cry.