Dark Calling

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Dark Calling Page 8

by Cheryl McIntyre


  “Why do you antagonize the children?” Dustin asks as he joins them. He throws an arm around Lila. Kisses the top of her colorful head.

  “She started it.”

  “So you finished it. Makes sense,” Dustin laughs. He tears his eyes off Lila to look at Keely. “Hey Keel. How are you holding up?” He says it sympathetically, like he already knows the answer.

  “You too Dusty?” She stops so unexpectedly Nick walks into her.

  “Ulp, sorry.”

  Keely ignores Nick’s apology, but puts her hand out, resting it on his arm, as if to steady him. “So, who else? Dana?” She looks from face to face.

  “No, not Dana. But Giordano,” Nick says. He looks at her hand still on his arm. “That’s it though. I promise.”

  Keely’s mouth pops open. She is shocked to find her History teacher is involved as well. She drops her hand. Turns back toward the school. Suddenly, she doesn’t want to go anymore. However, she isn’t willing to admit that as Nick opens the door for her. They break off, she and Nick going one way, the others going another way.

  “See you at lunch,” Lila sings.

  “See you in History,” Bryon says to Keely. It sounds like a question. She nods dismissively. Turns away just as Lila puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  Once inside her home room class, Keely plops down in a seat and pulls her iPod, notebook, and pencil out of her backpack. Places the ear buds into her ears and begins sketching her view of the hallway, including the doorway and the fire extinguisher hanging beside it.

  Nick watches from the desk beside her admiringly. He loves her intensity when she draws. As if she forgets there is anyone else around. It’s her and her pencil. He knows the music she is listening to must be a slow song. Her body is perfectly still but the soft strokes of her hand. He can tell just by the mellow way she moves over the paper.

  The teacher closes the door. Takes attendance. Hands out a reminder and home room is over. Keely packs up quietly, throws her picture into the trash on her way out the door. Nick ducks down, fishes it out. Slips it into his binder. Keely peers over her shoulder. Green eyes quizzical.

  “What are you doing?”

  Nick tucks his binder under his arm. “Nothing, let’s go.”

  Algebra is uneventful. Her evil Demon Prince brother is a no show as Nick expected. They are kept busy throughout class and Keely doesn’t have a chance to think about how badly her life sucks. Mr. Steffey gives them a ridiculous amount of homework before the bell rings.

  Nick waits patiently as Keely shoves her book into her backpack. Drops her paper. They nearly collide as they both bend to pick it up. Both grab the sheet of paper, fingers touching. Eyes meet and both smile. It’s the highlight of the hour.

  Walking through the hallway, they’re quiet. Strange emotions are rumbling around inside of Keely. She has dated boys in the past, but none since the attack. She hasn’t even thought of boys like that since. But she likes Nick. And she actually thinks she trusts him. Believes he will keep her safe. Hopes he’ll help her find her parents. An idea has been brewing since last night. Nick had told her that it’s all her choice. The Sussurro Demons told her to give herself to save her mom. It was the best idea she could think of. So this morning, while she was in the bathroom, and Nick still slept, she left a message on her mom’s cell phone. Her hands had shook, but her voice was smooth, confident. She asked for a meeting place where she could exchange herself for her parents’ safe return. Keely is hoping Nick will go along with this plan. That he will help her trick her father. She has no real intentions of actually going with him anywhere. Not unless it comes to that, but that’s where Nick’s help really comes in. She is counting on him to bring her back.

  Nick pauses by the door to World History. Keely feels awkward as she enters the room. Does Mr. Giordano know that she knows about who he really is? Actually, now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t really know who he is. All she knows is he’s somehow involved. At least he’s one of the good guys.

  Mr. Giordano ignores her as thoroughly as he did yesterday. Nick moves past her and takes his seat in the back. Bryon walks briskly into the room wearing his gray beanie despite the fact it is way too warm for it. He sits at the empty desk behind her though this is not his seat.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Keely says. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Ignores him.

  “All right. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t stand you being mad at me, Kiem. I can’t take not talking to you. It’s only been a day and I’m going crazy. If I could do it all over, I would do it all differently. I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me.” He jumps out of his seat. Kneels beside her on the dusty tiled floor. His slender hands folded around themselves as if he’s praying. No. As if he’s begging. Everyone is staring at him. Twenty sets of eyes focus on him. Part of Keely wants to laugh; the other part is reminded of how he had been playing the part of her best friend for the past year. He takes her foot in his hand and kisses the top of her shoe. “Please, please, please forgive me. I was a stupid asshole, but I have learned my lesson and I swear on my mother’s life, I will never lie to you again.” He crosses his heart with the hand not still holding her foot. Holds two fingers up, scout’s honor.

  “No.” She pulls her foot back. Pushes his knee with it. He falls back, flat on his behind. “I can’t forgive you. I don’t know who you are, Bryon.”

  He moves back to his seat. He may be down, but he’s not out. Leaning forward, he whispers desperately in her ear. “I’m the same guy I’ve always been. I didn’t pretend to be somebody different. It’s just...your first day here—when you wouldn’t talk to anyone—do you remember?” She nods stiffly. “I gave it a try and you laughed. You laughed and you actually spoke to me. I may have pushed the friendship, I may have lied about my age, pretended like I belonged at this school, but I never lied about who I was. Who I really am. And our friendship wasn’t a lie. You are a very likeable person.” He smiles sideways though she doesn’t see it. “I have known Nick and Lila and Dustin my whole life, but you are my best friend Keely. I’ve told you things that I haven’t told any of them. And the things you told me, I swear I didn’t tell them. Only what was pertinent to keeping you safe. I was brought on this job to help you, but I’m the one that needs you. You are my best friend. Please, you have to forgive me.”

  Keely blinks. She wasn’t expecting a passionate hushed speech breathed into her ear. This isn’t Bryon’s style. She definitely wasn’t expecting to feel so torn. She wants so badly to trust him. Wants more than anything to forgive him and get back to the way it used to be. Now, more than ever, she needs a friend. She turns around slowly to face him.

  “With everything going on, I needed someone to talk to. Someone I could trust. That person should have been you, but it wasn’t. I just don’t know.”

  Bryon sinks back, his head down. “You’re killing me, Kiem. What can I do? Name it. I will do anything to make you forgive me. Do you want me to kiss your feet again?”

  Keely laughs. “No.”

  “I’m asking too much. Don’t forgive me. Don’t forget. Just give me another chance. I will prove to you that you can trust me. I will be the very best friend you have ever had. Come on, Keely. I’m begging you.”

  Everybody deserves a second chance. Her mom’s motto. She misses her mom so much. She misses Bryon.

  “O.k. A second chance. But if you lie to me again, I cannot be held responsible for my actions. I may have to kill you.”

  Bryon beams at her. “I will load the gun myself.”

  “You’re lucky I love you so much,” she sighs.

  “True story. You know I love you too. Right?” His expression is suddenly so serious, almost pleading. Keely’s lips part. She licks them cautiously. Her knee bounces as her heel taps the floor. She is saved from responding as Mr. Giordano begins class. He informs them they will be working on a group project. He then, unsurprisingly, assigns Keely, Bryon and Nick as a group and asks to spe
ak to them after class.

  Mr. Giordano passes out the information they need to begin their projects. Keely, Bryon and Nick push three desks together and pretend to work.

  “So, do I not have to do homework in this class?” Keely asks. She can’t help but smile at the idea.

  “I wouldn’t.” Bryon lifts a shoulder.

  “He’s a real teacher, he taught at our old school, so you might. This project is bogus though.”

  “That’s better than I originally expected,” Keely says with a grin.

  “Your juice box is a little fuller today than it was yesterday, Kiem.” Bryon smiles widely, flashing a mouth full of perfect white teeth.

  “I guess so. My juice box was pretty much empty yesterday though, so I’ll take whatever I can get.” She rests her chin in her palm. Blocks out the conversation that begins between Nick and Bryon. Gazes around the room. Dana waves. Her eyes move past Keely quickly. Slowly brush over Nick. Rest on Bryon. “Dana’s checking you guys out. Again.”

  “She has a crush on me,” Bryon says casually.

  “Me too,” Nick adds.

  “Yeah, I kind of got that.”

  “I don’t date girls like her.” Nick shrugs and leans back in his seat. Keely’s eyes narrow. Rake over Nick’s lazy posture.

  “What do you mean?”

  Nick looks up slowly. Absorbs Keely’s scowl. “Who? Me?”

  “Hmph. Yeah you. What do you mean, you don’t date girls like her? What’s wrong with Dana?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her. I’m just not interested in that type of girl.”

  Bryon laughs. Keely glares at both of them. “Meaning?” she asks, her voice acidic.

  “She’s fake. She’s immature.”

  “Immature?”

  Nick rubs both hands over his face. Why does she have to make such a big deal out of things? Why is everything he says worthy of a fight? “Everybody has a type. I’m not trying to be mean. I’m sure you have a preference. What kind of guys do you like?” He meant to ask the question to get the focus off of him, but as she taps her fingers on the table, clearly in thought, Nick becomes absolutely intrigued with the answer.

  “I don’t know. I guess I don’t have a specific type.”

  “Yes you do. Everyone does,” Bryon chimes in, pursuing the issue. He’s smiling as if he finds something extremely funny. Or someone. Someone like Keely.

  “Well, what’s your type then?” she asks Bryon pointedly.

  “Breathing,” Nick suggests, chuckling. Keely laughs too.

  “Although that is definitely a requirement—I’m not into necrophilia, at least not anymore.” He raises his eyebrows and laughs. “She has to be cool. A sense of humor. And a good personality. Hotness helps.” Keely rolls her eyes. Of course he finishes with looks. “Now you,” he prods.

  “I guess what you said.”

  “Oh, that’s so hot.”

  “With a guy though.” Keely smirks at Bryon.

  “That’s not nearly as hot,” he sulks.

  Nick sits forward. “You just stole Bryon’s. You can’t do that.”

  “There are no rules,” Keely protests.

  “It’s my game.”

  “I don’t know what my type is. I haven’t had a type since…my old school. My type before was immaturely based on who was the cutest and most popular. Seeing as how I now find the most popular guy revolting, I’d say my tastes have changed. Anyways, you never said what kind of girl you’re interested in. Or guy, whatever.” She smiles hugely.

  “Though I appreciate your open mindedness, I like girls who are confident,” Nick says slowly. “Someone who doesn’t care what the world thinks, just what the people she cares about think. Smart, funny. Daring. And mature.” He looks at Keely as he says this, but she doesn’t notice. She barely hears a word he says because her phone is vibrating against her leg from its pocket in her back pack.

  She pulls it nonchalantly from her bag. Slides it in her back pocket. Stands up and asks to use the hall pass, catching Nick and Bryon by surprise. They exchange a look of confusion.

  Mr. Giordano hands her the pass. Shoots an expectant look at Nick, who then asks for a pass as well. Keely nearly stomps her foot before she rushes out the door. She hopes she can make it to the girls’ restroom before Nick catches up to her. Surely he wouldn’t follow her in there.

  She doesn’t make it. “Keely, wait up. Are you all right? If I offended you, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad. It’s like having a favorite flavor of ice cream.”

  She turns, confused. “Offended me? No. I just need to use the bathroom. I can go by myself. Can’t I? I mean, I’ve been potty trained for like, years.”

  Nick’s eyebrows merge as they scrunch together. “Uh, yeah. I’ll just wait for you right here.”

  She leaves him standing in the hall and rushes into the bathroom. The lighting is different in here. A yellowish glow fills the small room. The speckled tile has a glossy shine that causes Keely’s shoes to squeak. As soon as the door clicks behind her, she is ripping the phone from her pocket. Flips to her text messages as she closes herself in a graffitied stall informing her of the several people she should call when interested in having a good time.

  Keely reads the message twice and sinks to the floor. Leans against the door. Reads the message once again. Every logical thought is to go get Nick. The logical thoughts are not winning against the less intelligent, more emotional thoughts swirling around in her head. She bites her lip and stares at the screen of her phone. CALL WHEN YOU’RE ALONE. It’s what she wanted. So why is she so scared to call? Closing her eyes, Keely hits the send button twice, knowing it will call the last dialed number.

  Three rings later there is a click and she hears a voice that instantly sends chills down her spine and tears to her eyes. “Hello, Kitten. It’s been a long time.”

  Unable to respond, she stays quiet. Bites her lip harder. Tastes metal in her mouth; it reminds her of when she was younger and would suck on the cheap chains of her necklaces. If only she could go back to being a kid again.

  “Now, now. You did call me. Don’t you have anything you’d like to say?”

  As crazy as it seems, she has nothing she wants to say to him. Cannot find words. She draws in a ragged breath as tears stream down her face. Watches the splotches form as the tears hit her shirt.

  “That’s o.k. I have plenty to say,” Apophis informs her. “I assume you remember me, my beautiful Keely. So, I assume you understand how vital it is to your dear parents’ health for you to cooperate and do exactly as I say.” He pauses as if she would possibly answer him. Chuckles softly when she doesn’t. “Now, the first thing, and this is so important, is to come alone. I will know if you’re not by yourself, my love. Do not try to trick me. Save the tricking for those of us that are more experienced. Don’t worry though, what you lack in experience, you more than make up for in beauty. And if you want it, I am more than willing to share some of my knowledge with you.” He laughs again and Keely is struck by how melodic his voice is. If he hadn’t tried to murder her, Keely may have been fooled by the angelic sound. Angelic. She cringes. Memories wash over her like a tidal wave. A tidal wave of acid burning deep into her inner most fears. Closing her eyes, she releases them. Allows the fear to flow around her. It smothers her.

  “No? Well, you think about it. Anyways, I’m thinking the sooner we meet, the better. How is right now for you? A bathroom isn’t my ideal rendezvous, but I do appreciate the privacy.”

  Keely freezes. She can hear him in the phone as well as in the room. His voice echoes off the walls around her. Coming to her senses, she disconnects the call and slides her phone back in her pocket. With survival instincts pushing her, Keely crawls underneath the floating wall to the stall beside her. She understands he has no intention of trading her parents for her. He is only here to kill her. She moves as quietly as she can. Makes it to the next stall. Her only plan is to get close enough to the door before he finds her so that mayb
e Nick can hear her scream.

  Shiny white shoes appear in front of the main door of the bathroom. Afraid to go any further, Keely pulls her phone back out. Silently curses the fact that she doesn’t have Nick’s number. How can he be so close and yet so far away? The squeak and slide of Apophis’ shoes warn her he is moving. Her hands shake badly as she keys in the text. She has to clear it and try again. Just two words. APOPHIS HERE. Knows it’s enough for Bryon to understand. Hits send and shoves it into her pocket as the stall door is flung open. She sucks in a huge breath prepared to howl out a horror movie worthy scream, but it’s cut off with a lightning quick blow to the scar on her throat. She falls back into the toilet choking. Her head hits with a thwack. Vision blurs as pain shoots down her neck. His hands are in her hair pulling her up. His face comes into view. Lovely and loathsome at the same time. It is that horrible night all over again. He’s going to kill her this time. She can read it in his eyes. The venomous scorn. The determination.

  He grabs her by the shirt, slams her against the tiled wall. Her collar rips as he shakes her. Slams her again, striking her head once more. This time, Keely can feel the warm stickiness of blood in her hair. She gags as she gasps for air. Apophis holds her face between his hands. Licks her cheek where her tears leave salty wet streaks. Runs his icy fingers over her raw and bloody lips. Slides them down her side and over the bare skin showing on her stomach. “Shame. We could have had so much fun.” He shoves her to the side. As Keely stumbles, she tries to aim herself toward the trash can in hopes of making enough noise to alert Nick. She misses. Hits the floor. Slides into the wall. She kicks out at the trash can sending it flying into the door. She smiles up at Apophis, her brother, as Nick bursts through the door, dagger in hand.

  He smiles back at her with an expression Keely cannot decipher. “We aren’t done,” he states coolly.

  Nick thrusts his dagger in Apophis’ direction. Just as it is about to make contact, he disappears as if melting into the floor. The knife continues on to hit the mirror above the sink. It explodes. Shards of glass spill like confetti.

 

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