Risen

by Lauren Barnholdt

  “No. She was dead. I’m positive.”

  “What the hell got into you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry they’re blaming you, Cam.”

  “Me too.”

  The police are at the door now. They knock a few times and then wait. What feels like an eternity passes. And then the front door opens and an older woman with long brown hair answers. She’s wearing an apron and wiping her hands with a towel.

  This makes me think of the blood on Aidan’s hands and I wince. I don’t want to watch them tell her that her daughter’s dead.

  The woman’s face gets a strange look on it as the police are speaking to her. She shakes her head firmly no. Then she turns and disappears from view.

  “I think I’m gonna blow chunks,” Aidan whispers.

  “Just shut up. Don’t say a word, Aid.”

  I can’t stand this. This is by far the worst moment of my life.

  And then it happens.

  She comes to the door. Not the older woman . Becca. Becca is standing at the front door with a puzzled look on her face.

  The detective glances over his shoulder at us. His expression is unreadable.

  They policemen stand and talk with Becca for a little while.

  “She’s fucking alive, Aidan.”

  “That’s impossible,” he says. “Cam, I told the truth. How did I have all that blood on my hands if I didn’t kill her?”

  “I don’t know, man. Maybe you killed someone else. I don’t want to know, either. I just want to go home.” I know it’s a selfish thing to say, but I don’t care.

  Aidan’s freaking me out. You’re the one who got him involved in this, a little voice in my head whispers. You can’t abandon him now. But I push that thought away.

  Becca and the cops are still talking. Now her mother is back at her side.

  “She doesn’t even look hurt,” I whisper.

  Aidan is too stunned to speak. Eventually the conversation between the police and Becca and her mom is over. The front door shuts and the cops meander back to the car. When they get inside, they don’t say anything.

  We start driving again. My body is flooding with relief, even if beneath it all there’s a sense that this is too good to be true. Because the bottom line is that I believe everything Aidan’s told me today.

  “Is this your idea of a funny prank?” Detective Longo asks once we’ve turned off Easton Road.

  “No, sir. I don’t know what happened,” I reply.

  “That girl said she was at the party and came home after it broke up. She also said that Aidan is a known liar and so is his friend Campbell. She said you two have a real problem with authority, like to play games. Some game you played. I hope you two had a good laugh at us scurrying around looking for a dead girl that didn’t exist.”

  “That’s not true, sir,” I protest. “I only told you what Aidan told me.”

  “And I wasn’t lying either,” Aidan says.

  “Well, the two of you are either crazy, you’re liars, or there’s more to this story than meets the eye.”

  “I’m not a liar,” I say, feeling my fists clench at my side.

  Detective Longo rubs his chin. “Whatever happened out there in the woods, I have a feeling it’s not over yet. My gut tells me that something is very, very wrong here.”

  We drive back to the station and when we get out, the cops tell us we’re free to go. But before I can get in my car and leave, Detective Longo grabs me by the shoulder.

  “Campbell.”

  “Yeah?”

  His eyes stare into mine with a dark, mistrusting look. “I’m going to be watching you, son. I’ve got pretty good instincts and my instincts tell me that you and your little buddy are into something nasty. Rotten like three-week-old food that’s been left out in the sun. I can smell it, you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir. But I swear I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Seems like you just got away by the skin of your teeth with that situation back in Maine. And now you’ve got another situation popping up here in Santa Anna. I hope, for your sake, there aren’t any other situations brewing. Because one of these days you’re not going to be so lucky.”

  “I should probably go,” I say.

  “Go on home now. But remember, I’m going to be watching you, Campbell.”

  And with that, I’m back in my car, driving Aidan and myself home. I’m exhausted.

  “She’s not alive,” Aidan says.

  “We just saw her with our own two eyes, Aidan. She’s as alive as you and me.”

  “No. No, she’s not,” he tells me.

  And I hate to admit it, but somehow—I believe him.

  Chapter Four

  Natalia

  My hands are shaking, and I fumble for the off switch on the iPad again, pushing it frantically, not really believing that it’s going to turn off. Samara’s obviously done something to it so that it’ll just stay on. But this time, miraculously, the screen goes dark.

  I’m starting to have a panic attack, my breath coming in short wild gasps, and so I lean back against the seat of Adrianna’s car and force myself to take in air.

  “Natalia,” Adrianna says. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I say. “I’m okay.” It’s a lie. I’m not okay. Not even close. But I don’t want to freak Adrianna out even more than she already is. Get it together. Stop panicking. Deep breaths. I’m able to slow my breathing, but my hands and feet are tingling, and my skin is crawling.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Adrianna asks. “Who the hell was that?”

  I don’t know what to tell her, and so I don’t say anything. I try to control my thoughts, try to stop them from racing. I run through all kinds of different lies, different excuses, that I could tell her. But I can’t come up with anything that would make sense.

  There’s a vibration coming from my bag, and at first, I think the iPad is turning back on by itself. So I reach down and pull it out. I think again about holding it out the window and smashing it into the pavement. The only thing that stops me is the fact that Brody put himself at risk to give it to me, and if I can’t get it back to him, he’s going to be in a lot of trouble.

  But it’s not the iPad. It’s my phone. It flashes with an incoming call from my mom’s number, and I pick it up immediately, knowing that if I don’t, she’ll know something’s up.

  “Hello?” I say, trying to sound calm.

  “Natalia!” she says. Her voice is excited. “Where are you?”

  “Sorry, Mom,” I say. “I just went out to get a coffee with Adrianna. I thought it would be okay.”

  Adrianna frowns, then shakes her head. She knows I’m lying not only to her, but to my mom as well. But she doesn’t say anything. She just turns and looks out the window, her gaze focusing on something in the distance, her eyes empty and sad.

  I’m pretty sure my mom is going to freak when she finds out I’ve left the house, but she doesn’t. All she says is, “Well, you need to get home immediately. They found the car!”

  “What car?” I ask, confused.

  “My car,” she says. “The car that was stolen. They found it!”

  My breathing starts to speed up again. They found the car. But that’s impossible.

  According to Cam, my mom’s car was burned at the witches’ compound.

  “Who found it?” I ask. My mouth is dry again, and I lick my lips.

  “Some kid in Maine,” she says. “He found the registration and was nice enough to drive it over here. We called the police and they’re on their way.”

  “What… um…. “ I try to figure out how to phrase what I’m about to ask her. If the car was really stolen, I wouldn’t know anything about it. But her tone of voice doesn’t lead me to believe that the car is burned. “Was their any damage?” I ask her.

  “No,” she says. “Natalia, the car’s fine.”

  ***

  I think about going to Brody’s first so I can drop off the iPad
. But I know my mom will get suspicious if I don’t come right home.

  I was hoping that the car ride back to my house would be silent, the kind of ride that happens when something horrible is going on, the kind of ride that I’ve gotten used to lately whenever a bad situation arises between me and Cam.

  But Adrianna apparently has different ways of dealing with her anger. Instead of silently seething, she starts yelling at me as soon as we’re on the road.

  “This is fucked up!” she yells. She’s usually so soft spoken. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard her swear before. “You better tell me what the hell is going on, Natalia, and you better tell me right now.”

  “Adrianna,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm and not add fuel to the fire. “I will tell you everything that’s been going on, I will. But I need you to calm down.”

  “Calm down? Calm down? I’m not going to calm down! There was just some creepy woman on an iPad that wouldn’t turn off claiming to be Raine’s mom! Raine’s mom, Natalia! Raine’s mom just answered the door at her house. So who the hell was that?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. It’s kind of the truth. I have my ideas – I guess Samara could be Raine’s witch mom or something. And her human mom is the one who opened the door. That seems a little crazy, though – as far as I know, Raine’s not adopted.

  Then I have a horrible thought – if Samara is Raine’s mom like she says she is, does that mean my mom isn’t my mom, either? If I’m a witch and Raine’s a witch, and Raine’s mom isn’t who she thinks it is, then is my mom not who I think she is, either?

  Does Raine know any of this? Is Samara even telling the truth?

  Thoughts twist and swirl through my head, tumbling together into a hurricane.

  “You don’t know?” Adrianna says. She flicks the signal down angrily, turning onto my street. “You don’t know? Of course you know.”

  She keeps talking, yelling, but I tune her out, sitting up in my seat and craning my neck, trying to see down the street.

  I blink a few times, not able to comprehend what I’m seeing. My mom’s car, the car that was burned to a shell at the witches’ compound, is now sitting in our driveway.

  That’s impossible. It’s not the same car. It has to be different. Then again, my mom’s car returning in near perfect condition is one of the least impossible things I’ve seen lately.

  As we get closer, I notice my mom’s standing on the porch with a police officer.

  When she sees me, she gives me a big grin.

  “Why are the police at your house?” Adrianna asks suspiciously. I look at her, and she looks at me. There’s still anger on her face, but now I see something else, too.

  Something in her eyes. Fear. Adrianna’s afraid of me.

  I don’t have time to think about what this means for our friendship, or just for me in general, because my mom is waving at me from the porch, motioning frantically for me to join her.

  “Listen,” I say to Adrianna, summoning all the strength I have left. “You don’t have to be scared. I’ll explain everything to you later, I promise.”

  I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze, but she pulls away. “No,” she says, shaking her head and staring straight ahead. “Explain it to me now.”

  “Adrianna,” I say.

  “No. Natalia, you’re obviously in some kind of trouble. And I wouldn’t be a good friend if I just ignored it.”

  She turns off the car and puts her hand on the door handle.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, panicked.

  “I’m going to find out why there’s a cop at your house. I don’t know what you’re into, but I don’t want you getting into any more trouble than you already are.”

  What I do next is a reflex. It’s not anything that I’ve planned or even thought about. And before I know what’s happening, I’m focusing all my energy on Adrianna.

  “Adrianna,” I say slowly. “You are going to forget everything you just saw. You are going to forget everything having to do with that iPad. As far as you’re concerned, you took me to Raine’s house to pick up a notebook I left at school.”

  It’s harder for me to use the mind control than it usually is, I think maybe because I don’t have my necklace and also because she’s fighting me.

  She opens her mouth to say something, to protest, but I repeat the words I just said, concentrating as hard as I can this time. And then, finally, her eyes turn blank and her face goes slack.

  After a second, she smiles.

  “So I’ll call you later?” she says.

  “Yup,” I say, matching her smile so that she doesn’t think there’s anything wrong.

  “Call me later!”

  I think about saying something else, but there’s nothing else to really say. So I open the door and get out of the car.

  ***

  The officer’s name is Officer Peabody, which I can’t help thinking is kind of a funny name. It’s also pretty funny that I’ve had run-ins with more police in the past few weeks than I have, you know, ever in my life.

  “There she is!” my mom calls. “There’s my daughter, Natalia. She’s the one who was driving the car when it was stolen.”

  The officer looks up, and I keep the fake smile plastered on my face. If I were really getting my mom’s car back, a car that I thought had been stolen, I would be really happy.

  “Hey,” I say, swinging my bag in front of me and hoping that I look nonchalant.

  “Can you believe it’s back?” my mom asks, her eyes shining. “And look, there’s not a scratch on it.”

  “How was it found?” I ask. I keep my eyes on the car, looking at it, pretending that I’m marveling at the fact that it’s back, when really I’m just searching for clues as to what happened. Of course, it’s not like it’s really a big stretch to figure out what happened. Obviously someone put a spell on it and fixed it.

  But why? Who would want to give me my mom’s car back? For what gain?

  Whoever it was did a great job. The car looks exactly the way I remember it. The scratch my mom got on the driver’s side door when a shopping car slid into it is still there. The sticker proclaiming that we need an oil change in a few weeks is there. There are even a few empty McDonald’s bags in the backseat.

  “So the last time you saw the car was in a hotel parking lot?” the police officer asks.

  I struggle to remember what it is I told the police. Did I even tell the police anything? I was so out of it at the time, I hardly remember. What did Cam tell them?

  “Yes,” I say. “In Maine. Um, my… I mean, I think… I was sick after that weekend, and so Campbell Elliot was probably the one that filled out the police report.

  He was with me in Maine.”

  I say this not because I want to get Cam back involved in this – he’s really the last person I want to see or talk to – but because I want to make sure that I let the policemen know there’s a good chance I might not remember the details.

  Officer Peabody looks at me sharply.

  “I had a head injury,” I explain. “And I lost my memory.”

  But he doesn’t seem too concerned about my head injury.

  “Campbell Elliott was with you?” he asks.

  “Yes,” my mom says. “Do you think he had anything to do with this?”

  “Of course he didn’t have anything to do with it,” I say. Cam and I might be over, but that doesn’t give my mom the right to suggest that he might have stolen her car.

  “I was there the whole time. Cam didn’t do anything.”

  “You lost your memory, Natalia,” my mom says. “You don’t remember anything about that weekend.”

  “But I know that Cam wouldn’t have stolen your car.”

  “You’re dating this boy?” Officer Peabody asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Are you sure?” he asks sharply.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Why?” my mom asks. “Is there something going on with Campbell that we should
know about?” She puts her arm around me and pulls me close to her, like she’s afraid that Cam’s going to come running out of the bushes and kidnap me or something.

  How annoying.

  “Ma’am, I’m not at liberty to say,” the officer says. His eyes look worried. “But I can let you know that Cam is a person of interest in another, unrelated investigation.”

  “What kind of unrelated investigation?” I ask. “What are you talking about?”

  Anxiety blooms in my chest. Whatever Cam’s involved in, I need to know about it.

  “I can’t say any more.” He gives my mom a sharp look, and she gives a small nod.

  I know what that means – he’s trying to tell her that she should keep an eye on me, that I shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near Cam. I want to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry about that, that my mom is already making sure I can’t have any contact with Cam. I tell myself I don’t want to talk to Cam anyway. Let Kaci take care of him.

  “So how did you find the car exactly?” I ask. I want to press the officer on what’s going on with Cam, but I know to do that will make me seem suspicious.

  “We didn’t,” the officer says. “A man brought it to your house.”

  “A man brought it to our house?”

  My mom nods. “He found it parked on some side street in Maine, and he knew it was abandoned. He called and offered to drive it here. So of course I said okay.”

  I shake my head, because that makes no sense. “A man found it? And he didn’t call the police?”

  “He wanted to drive it here. He was being polite. He said he’d been looking for an excuse to come to Santa Anna anyway. Apparently he’s going to be moving here for a job and is trying to get to know the area.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say. There’s a sick feeling in my stomach. I turn to the policeman. “What is she talking about?”

  “Apparently the person who found the car drove it here,” Officer Peabody says.

  “And then he and your mom called the police.”

  “And you didn’t think that was a little strange?”

  “It’s not normal protocol,” the officer admits. “But your mother called us as soon as the car got here.”