by R. L. Stine
She started to say something, to apologize, but the Ferris wheel operator, a fat guy with long, oily hair, wearing a sweatshirt that came down only halfway over his stomach, motioned for them to step into the waiting car.
April leapt into the swaying car, then turned and helped pull Gabri in. He glanced at her uncertainly, then settled himself back against the plastic seat, still warm from the last occupants. The safety bar was slammed down over their thighs.
Then the car swayed harder and lifted up, traveling only a few yards until it came to an abrupt halt. Someone was being loaded into the car under theirs.
“Can’t see much from here,” April joked.
Gabri smiled, a strangely distant smile, as if his thoughts were once again far away.
April suddenly thought of Matt. No doubt he was slouched in his movie seat at that very moment, watching teenagers being hacked to bits and enjoying every blood-soaked minute of it.
And here she was with a new boy. A strange boy. A boy she realized she felt attracted to even though they had barely spoken.
“Do you have a girlfriend or anything?” she asked, the words popping out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about them. Maybe he’s thinking about someone else, she thought. Maybe that’s why he keeps drifting away, looking so thoughtful and serious.
Her question seemed to snap him out of his thoughts. “No, not really,” he replied.
Their car swayed again, rocking back and forth. Then it was lifted to a higher position before abruptly stopping again.
The air was cooler up off the ground, April realized, turning her head to let the gentle breeze blow through her hair. Gazing up at the sky, she searched for the moon, but it was hidden behind a curtain of low clouds.
“I hope it isn’t too dark to see the ocean,” she said to Gabri, who was also staring up at the sky.
When we are at the very top, he thought, there will be time.
We will be too high for people to see into the car.
We will be too far away for anyone to wonder, to protest. Too far away for anyone to stop me.
When we stop at the very top, April will be helpless.
I will taste the nectar, taste deeply of the sweet, precious nectar without being interrupted.
He smiled at her. “I’m enjoying being with you,” he said, raising his arm behind her on the seat back.
“I’m having fun too,” April said as the car jolted, then floated up to the very top.
It suddenly became darker.
April leaned forward, resting her arms on the safety bar, and gazed out toward the ocean. The beach appeared as a silver ribbon. The rolling blue-black darkness behind it was the ocean.
“Wow,” April said quietly. “What a view.”
Now! Gabri’s silent cry rang loudly in his mind. Now!
He turned her head and kissed her lips.
She started to pull back in surprise. But gazing into his wide, glowing eyes, she felt weak, drained of any power to resist.
Besides, why should she resist?
He kissed her chin.
Was she dizzy from the kisses? From the view? From being so high in this gently rocking cart?
I’m so dizzy, she thought, her head tilted back, his face above hers now, his eyes glowing down into hers.
So dizzy and weak.
Please—kiss me again. “Kiss me again, Gabri,” she heard herself whisper. “Please.”
He kissed her again.
Then he sank his fangs deep into her throat.
When he removed them, dark ruby droplets clung to his smiling lips.
CHAPTER 14 JUST AN ACCIDENT
Matt stretched and yawned. He made his way to the bedroom window and, blinking against the bright light, peered out. The sun was already high above the trees in a clear sky. His bedroom felt hot and sticky.
He yawned again, bumped into his dresser, opened a drawer, found a bathing suit, and sleepily stepped into it.
Padding heavily into the kitchen, brushing the hair out of his eyes with one hand, he found a note from his parents on the kitchen counter. They had gotten up early to go fishing with friends. Didn’t want to disturb him. Wondered what time he had gotten in. Would see him later.
What time did I get in? Matt wondered.
He wasn’t sure. After the triple feature, he, Ben, and some other guys had headed to the carnival grounds to check it out. But the field was dark, the rides all shut down, the booths covered for the night.
It must have been well after midnight. Back in town, Matt met some friends who had been to the carnival. One of them started teasing him about April.
“What are you talking about?” Matt asked, confused.
“April was there all night. With another guy. A tall guy. Straight, black hair. You’d better watch out, Daniels.” The boys walked off, snickering and making jokes at Matt’s expense.
Gabri. She was there with Gabri, Matt realized.
As he made his way down Seabreeze Road, kicking clods of sandy dirt as he walked, he decided he’d better apologize to April. He probably shouldn’t have spent the night with the guys, even though he had really wanted to see those movies badly.
He realized he hadn’t spent much time with April since they’d arrived at Sandy Hollow. And now this townie with his dark, romantic eyes and slick smile was moving in on her.
He’d put a stop to it, Matt decided, sneaking into the cottage, hoping his parents wouldn’t hear him come in. He’d call April first thing in the morning.
Now it wasn’t exactly first thing in the morning. It was ten-thirty, to be exact. But he gulped down a glass of orange juice—too quickly, for it gave him a sharp pain between his eyes—and then dialed April’s house.
The phone rang three times before someone picked it up. “Hello?” April’s mother said.
“Hi, Mrs. Blair. It’s me. Can I talk to April?”
“Oh. Hi, Matt. She’s still asleep.”
“Huh?” April was a morning person. She was usually up at dawn.
“The twins tried to rouse her for breakfast more than an hour ago,” Mrs. Blair said. “She muttered something about not feeling well, said she felt like sleeping for weeks. That’s not like her. I figured I’d better let her sleep.”
“Yeah. Well . . . ” Matt was surprised. He wanted to ask, “How late was she out with Gabri?” But instead he said, “Tell her I hope she feels better. If she wants to, she can meet me at the beach.”
He hung up the phone, feeling troubled. He scratched the back of his neck. His skin felt all prickly. The air in the small kitchen was heavy and wet.
It’s really going to be hot today, he thought. I’ve got to get to the beach.
He called Todd, who had also just pulled himself out of bed, and arranged to meet him at the beach. “Bring your Boogie board,” he told him. “Maybe the surf will be good this morning.”
But when he arrived at the beach, already crowded with morning sunbathers, several swimmers diving and darting through the low, blue-green waves, Todd was stretched out on a beach towel in the shade of a yellow- and white-striped beach umbrella.
“Hey—” Matt called.
“How’s it going?” Todd asked sleepily.
“Where’s your Boogie board?”
Todd raised his head and looked around. “Guess I forgot it.”
Matt sighed impatiently and dropped his Boogie board to the sand. “What’d you do last night? See that girl?” He dropped onto his knees, then sat down on the Boogie board, the sun warm on his back.
“Yeah.” Todd yawned loudly. “Jessica. We just walked around town. She wanted to go down to the beach, but I wasn’t up to it. I went home early.”
“Hey, man—you need a swim,” Matt urged. “We both need something to wake us up this morning.”
Todd didn’t respond.
“Hey, Todd—come on, man.”
Silence.
“Todd?”
Leaning over his friend, Matt saw that Todd had fallen asleep.
What’s with this guy? Matt wondered. How can he conk out before eleven in the morning?
Todd uttered a sigh in his sleep and rolled onto his side.
What kind of suntan lotion is Todd using? Matt wondered, staring at his friend. He seems to be getting paler—not darker.
• • • • •
As darkness descended, Jessica tingled with excitement and felt almost alive. She could feel the renewed energy coursing through her body.
She swept her long hair back over her shoulders, allowing the soft breeze off the ocean to ruffle through it, and thought about the nectar.
So sweet and tart at the same time.
So rich and thick.
And thirst quenching.
The moon, which had begun as a pale, white disc, was growing bolder, beginning to gain its golden glow. Staring up at it, Jessica tried to remember her life.
What had she been like when she was sixteen—like Todd and his friends?
Did she summer at the beach? Did she have boyfriends?
Try to remember, Jessica, she urged herself. Try.
But she had no memories.
No memories of her real life.
Her childhood was gone. Her family was gone. Her teenage years—all her years—her life was gone.
Even her death was gone, she realized.
How did I die?
But of course she hadn’t died.
And that was why her only memories were of her life as an Eternal One. Her only memories were those of the gray, twilight world she roamed in, floated in, soared in, shadowy memories of longing, of need, eternal need—of thirst.
Was that a tear rolling down her soft, pale cheek?
Was she actually crying for her past, for all that was lost to her? Crying for a life she hadn’t a single memory of?
No. It was just the salty air, she told herself, brushing the wetness from her cheek, forcing her morbid thoughts away.
This was to be a night of triumph, after all.
A night of victory, and then of celebration.
A night of nectar. A night of renewal.
She saw Todd approaching along the shore. This is your night, Todd, she thought, all of her sadness lifting as he neared, and her tingling excitement returned.
This is your night, my poor, innocent, shy, not-so-very-smart Todd.
This is the night you become an Eternal One. The night you shed your boring, old life and soar into the dark sky.
He waved to her, and she stepped toward him, her bare feet light on the wet sand, moving out of the shadows of the rowboat dock. Behind her, the three rowboats tied to the dock bobbed like flat fish in the water, bumping gently against the wooden piles.
“Todd!” she called enthusiastically, running toward him, her short sundress lifting high on her long, slender legs as she ran.
“Hi,” he said. Still shy. Still reluctant. “Nice night, huh?”
She took his arm. Kissed his cheek.
So near the precious nectar. So near.
Her pulse throbbed. She could feel it.
And she could feel her thirst.
One last sip. One little taste, Todd, and you’re one of us. Forever.
“What did you do today?” she asked, locking her eyes on his.
“Went to the beach,” he told her. “But I didn’t swim or anything. I was feeling kind of lazy.”
Wonder why, she thought dryly, holding on to his arm, staring into his eyes, letting her power do its work.
“You want to go to the carnival or something?” he asked, his voice quavering.
He’s under my spell, she thought.
He’s mine.
“It’s so peaceful here on this end of the beach,” she whispered, leaning against him, moonlight reflecting off her pale face, her bare shoulders. “And we’re all alone.”
He turned his eyes to the water, to the small, wooded island out beyond the rowboat dock. But she forced his eyes to return to hers.
“How about a kiss, Todd?”
She didn’t wait for a reply. A faint smile began to spread on his lips as she moved her face forward and pressed her mouth to his.
He’s mine. He’s mine.
But what was that sound? That fluttering over the rush of the waves.
Was it just the rowboats bobbing against the dock?
No.
She pressed her lips against Todd’s, sighing softly. And raised her eyes to the purple sky.
And saw the bat hovering low overhead.
Gabri! It must be Gabri! she realized.
He’s come to ruin it for me. He’s come to rob me of my victory.
No, Gabri, she thought, her pulse pounding as the wild, inhuman energy flowed through her.
No, Gabri. Not tonight.
You will not interfere tonight.
You are too late. The boy is mine.
The bat hovered lower.
Quick, quick! Jessica commanded herself.
Her fangs lowered, and her face pressed against Todd’s throat, and she bit deeply.
Deeply.
And drank.
The bat fluttered low. Lower. But he was too late.
Too late.
The race was lost.
Jessica drank. More and more.
Then, as Todd uttered a loud moan, of pain, of helplessness, of ecstasy, Jessica pulled her face back.
The color faded from Todd’s eyes as they rolled up into his head.
“No!” Jessica shrieked. “No! No! No! It was an accident! I—I don’t believe I did this!”
CHAPTER 15 A DROWNING
Matt sat up in bed, pushing away the sweat-drenched sheets. He peered out the window, listening to the soft calls of birds in the nearby trees, announcing the dawn.
“I can’t sleep,” he said aloud, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it, anyway?”
Five thirty-five, the clock on the night table said.
He’d been tossing most of the night, his mind whirling with troubled thoughts.
Mostly he had been thinking about April.
He had tried her house when he got back from the beach in the afternoon, but the line was endlessly busy. Then he tried calling after dinner and her mom said April had gone out.
Probably with Gabri again, Matt thought unhappily.
I’ve got to talk to April. I thought we were going to have a great summer together.
Thinking about her had kept him up all night. Now, as the sky slowly brightened and the chirping of the birds grew louder, he decided there was no point in staying in bed.
An early jog on the beach might help to clear my mind, he thought, pulling on a pair of black spandex bicycle shorts and squeezing his feet into his running shoes.
He closed the cottage door silently behind him, stepping out into the morning air, still cool and dew laden. The salty-fish smell of the ocean invaded his nostrils as he began to jog past the other cottages to the dunes that led down to the ocean.
The lapping waves were still inky black under a pearl gray sky as Matt began his jog along the shore. Sea gulls scattered as he ran, squawking in shrill protest.
The beach was empty. All his. Not even one other early-morning jogger in sight.
Off on the brightening horizon, he could see the dark outlines of a ship. Some kind of barge. The image shimmered above the water, its outlines bending and shifting in the eerie morning light. Like some sort of ghost ship, not real.
Matt jogged slowly but steadily, past the dying embers of a small campfire someone hadn’t fully doused, past a blackened, charred log the ocean had tossed up, past a pair of starfish dead and drying on the sand.
The spray felt cold and refreshing against his face as his sneakers crunched over wet sand. The gray of the sky was beginning to lift, like a pale curtain rising, revealing the crimson morning sunlight underneath. The ocean water brightened with the sky, reflecting its color.
This is really beautiful, Matt thought, jogging steadily, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat des
pite the cool air. He gazed ahead at the dark rock cliff that rose up at the water’s edge beyond the dunes.
As he approached the cliff, the sand beneath his shoes becoming pebbly, then harder, he looked to the small rowboat dock that jutted out in the shadow of the cliff.
Something appeared to be floating in the water beside the dock.
Was it a small boat of some kind? He was too far away to see clearly.
As he drew closer, crimson sunlight rippling along the water’s edge, he could see it clearer, something dark, pretty large, bobbing beside one of the rowboats.
Has a whale lost its way and trapped itself near shore? He dismissed that idea as he drew closer, and was better able to judge the size.
He stopped just before the dock, his chest heaving from the effort of his long run. Wiping away the perspiration from his forehead with his arm, he turned his eyes to the water.
And his breath caught in his throat.
It was a person.
Bobbing like a rowboat.
Bobbing facedown.
Arms floating out at its sides stiffly, so stiffly.
And before he even realized it, Matt was in the water, cold around his ankles, over his sneakers, which he hadn’t thought to remove.
He hadn’t thought.
He hadn’t thought he’d find a person.
He hadn’t thought anything.
And he was tugging the person by the shoulders, the water up over his waist. Pulling hard now. But the person—the body—the person—was so heavy.
The water felt so cold, swirling about his hot body. Matt gasped for breath, his chest heaving.
Are you breathing?
Please be breathing!
But, no—how could he be breathing?
It was a he. Yes. A he. But Matt still hadn’t been able to lift his face from the water.
How could he be breathing with his face still in the water? With his arms stretched out so stiffly?
What was he wearing? Only undershorts?
His skin so white and smooth, like some kind of sea creature.
Only sea creatures can breathe in the water.
And this person wasn’t breathing, couldn’t be breathing.
Panting loudly, Matt heaved his heavy cargo onto the shore. Pushing the wet, matted hair back from his forehead, Matt stood for a moment, hands on hips, leaning forward, breathing, breathing deeply, waiting for his heart to stop racing.