Children of the Dark

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Children of the Dark Page 8

by Jonathan Janz


  Then I froze.

  A shape had flitted across the trail in front of me.

  Memories of the newscast flooded over me:

  There were shouts, then what sounded like a man pleading about something. But then I heard some other sounds, and I knew it wasn’t no radio.

  I was in one of the darkest parts of the forest, a dense thicket of spruce trees, tall, stout, tenebrous ones that swallowed up whatever moonlight might happen to filter through the clouds.

  Could you describe the sounds?

  Oh, man…I don’t know how to…they was awful. Just awful. There was a loud grunt, then a bunch of thuds. And then I heard…

  My body felt submerged in ice water.

  Chewing, the guy on TV had said.

  And with a rush of terror, I realized I heard something too. It was coming from the spruce trees ahead. The sound was unmistakable. Laughter, high and soft and malevolent. I took a step backward, my body quaking. It was Carl Padgett. The Moonlight Killer. I took another backwards step, but I knew it was futile. I was about to be butchered and eaten.

  Arms enfolded me from behind.

  I gasped and tried to break away, but my captor came with me, and I realized he was laughing, laughing that same high laugh, almost a feminine laugh…it was almost like…

  I stopped struggling. “Mia?”

  “If I let you go,” whispered the voice at my ear, “will you promise not to hit me?”

  I exhaled, my whole body going limp. The arms loosened their grasp. I turned and looked into Mia’s eyes.

  She was biting her lower lip and trying her best not to laugh at me, but she couldn’t hold it in.

  “You’re gonna get it,” I said.

  She backed away, giggling now. A shimmering silver swath of moonlight caught her face. She looked more radiant than ever.

  I darted my hand under her guard, tickled her. Laughing, she stumbled back. Her teeth were gleaming white, her skin a deep brown. She must have spent the day in the sun, I decided, because she was even tanner than she’d been the night before. I reached for her, but she retreated nimbly away. I could tell how much she was enjoying this, how happy she was she’d been able to sneak up on me. I moved after her, laughing a little myself. She wore blue jeans, despite the heat of the night, and a white tank top that was just tight enough to set my imagination racing.

  “Are you two gonna flirt all night?” a voice asked from behind me. “Or do we get to see this famous treehouse?”

  I turned and beheld Rebecca Ralston standing in the pool of moonlight. I noticed she was wearing the peridot necklace Chris had evidently given her. With her blond hair and her bright smile, she looked almost as pretty as Mia did.

  Almost.

  I tried to conceal my disappointment at the interruption.

  Maybe Rebecca picked up on it. She said, “Or if you want, you can just tell me the way, and you and Mia can come when you’re ready.”

  Before I could answer, Mia said, “Sure.”

  I turned to her, surprised.

  “If it’s okay with you,” she added with an impish smile.

  Of course it’s okay with me! I want to marry you! I almost screamed.

  “Okay,” I said, doing my best to look cool. I indicated the direction. “It’s that way about fifty yards. Just follow the trail.”

  Rebecca clicked on a flashlight I hadn’t noticed. “Got it,” she said and stifled a yawn.

  “What’s wrong?” I said. “Am I that boring?”

  She chuckled. “Long day. Purple Turtle was a madhouse.”

  I thought of asking her if she’d been to a therapist lately. I couldn’t imagine volunteering at a daycare center. The screaming and the singing and the poop. I’d be insane within an hour.

  She started past us, but paused. “Is your mom home with Peach?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t she be?”

  She gazed at me a long moment, looked like she was about to say something, then shook her head. “No reason,” she said. She moved past us. Leaving Mia and I alone.

  Mia said, “Rebecca’s a little paranoid.”

  “I noticed.”

  “I’d be paranoid too if I’d been through what she has.”

  I fell silent, realizing I would be too. I had a sudden urge to go home and check on Peach. I got frustrated with her sometimes, but if anything ever happened to her, I wouldn’t want to go on living.

  Maybe I relied on her as much as she relied on me.

  “I take it you got my note?” Mia said.

  “Yeah,” I answered. Then, knowing I should say more, I added, “Thanks.”

  Smooth, my inner critic muttered. Real smooth.

  “I was thinking about your poem this morning,” she said.

  “My poem,” I repeated stupidly.

  “Yeah,” she said, smiling. “The one you read in Mrs. Herbert’s class?”

  “You remember that?” I could hardly believe it. Hell, I could barely remember it myself. At the time I’d been mortified at being made to read my poetry in front of my peers, but Mrs. Herbert was a hard ass, and if you didn’t read your work aloud, you got an F. I’d been tempted to take the F, but Chris had talked me into reading it.

  Mia closed her eyes.

  “The sooty walls enclose my heart

  A room full dark and glazed with frost.

  I wander without eyes through the darkness

  And remain a child apart.”

  I could only gape.

  She opened one eye and looked at me shyly. “Was that right?”

  I nodded. “How did you…”

  “I liked it so much I wrote parts of it down. Rebecca and I still talk about it. Yours was the best in the class.”

  “I got a C because I didn’t use iambic pentameter.”

  “That’s because Mrs. Herbert wouldn’t know good poetry if it bit her in the crotch.”

  We both laughed.

  “‘The Broken Church,’” Mia said, repeating the title of my poem. “What made you call it that?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seemed to fit.”

  It felt unspeakably weird talking about my poetry. I’d been convinced that it sucked. I said so.

  Mia shook her head. “You’re too hard on yourself. I could tell that about you right away. Even when we were little, you got mad at yourself for everything.”

  I must’ve scowled at her. “You act like you know me so well…you’ve hardly ever talked to me.”

  “That’s because I’ve always been dumb.” She kicked the trail, scuffing the dirt with the toe of her white shoe. “Maybe it’s because Brad is Rebecca’s older brother. It’s shallow, but I sort of worshipped him.” She rolled her eyes, mocking herself. “You know…the big, handsome older man?”

  She looked hopefully at me, but I couldn’t help but be annoyed. That word, worshipped, had wedged in my brain like a splinter under a fingernail. Brad didn’t deserve to be worshipped. He deserved to be beaten with a hammer.

  “I don’t blame you for being mad at me,” she went on. “You’re right. I mean, I’ve never been mean to you, but I haven’t exactly been attentive either.”

  “You’ve treated me like a leper.”

  She gave me a wry smile. “Are you being cruel to pay me back?”

  “Maybe.”

  She punched me lightly on the shoulder. “Jerk.”

  “We can’t all be as studly as Brad.”

  She laughed incredulously. “Hey!”

  “Okay,” I said, backing away. “I’m sorry.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “You’re right. I’m not.”

  Her eyes flashed delightedly, and she punched me on the shoulder again, harder this time.

  “Hey, that’s gonna leave a bruise.”

  “You deserve worse.”

  I rubbed my shoulder, grimacing a little.

  “Is the broken church supposed to represent your home?” Mia asked.

  I stopped rubbing my shoulder. “Huh?�


  “The poem is about losing trust,” she explained. “I know you and your mom don’t get along. Your dad was never in the picture. You have to take care of your little sister all the time. That has to be difficult for you.”

  I stiffened. “How about we leave Peach out of it?”

  “If you want.”

  I didn’t answer. There was a sour feeling in my belly.

  “What’s her real name?” Mia asked.

  “Audrey,” I muttered.

  “Why don’t you call her Audrey?”

  I sighed, glanced up at the black strip of sky threading its way through the spruce boughs. “I don’t know. Maybe because it’s the name my mom gave her?”

  “You two fight a lot?” Mia asked. “You and your mom?”

  “That’s sort of personal.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  I considered lying to her. Then, I decided to tell the truth. “I don’t know. Not yet, I guess.”

  She nodded. “I can respect that. If I’d been through what you’ve been through, I’d have a hard time trusting people too.”

  A heat began to build at the back of my neck. “I don’t think who I trust is any of your business.”

  Mia nodded, looking like the world’s youngest shrink. “I’d expect you to do that. Put up walls. I bet you push everybody away.”

  “Would you please stop psychoanalyzing me?”

  “Sure. When you stop acting like I’m playing a practical joke on you.”

  I was speechless.

  “Don’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind,” she said. “I’m Brad’s girlfriend, and Brad and Kurt don’t like you.”

  “‘Don’t like’ isn’t strong enough,” I grumbled. “Those guys despise us.”

  “They do,” she agreed. “I suspect it’s because you’re smarter than they are. And you and Chris are better athletes too.”

  I couldn’t help thawing a little. “You think so?”

  She nodded. “Rebecca’s dad started Brad a year late in school so he’d be more physically mature than his classmates.” She frowned. “Too bad he’s not more emotionally mature too.”

  I studied Mia’s face. There was more darkness there than I was accustomed to. More anger. “So why do you date him?”

  She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Habit, I suppose.”

  “That’s a shitty reason.”

  She glanced at me, and her look was defiant. “I did like him. Last year, at least.” She sighed. “What do you want me to say? That I’ve been superficial? That I liked being the girlfriend of a popular upperclassman? That it made me feel older, more mature? That I enjoyed going with a boy who had his own car?”

  Maybe that should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. “If those are the only reasons, why are you still with him?”

  She shook her head, her expression stormy. “I hate myself for it, okay? I never should’ve dated him. I was just…dumb. Materialistic.”

  The image of Mia riding in Brad’s car flitted through my mind. I scowled at her. “Yet you’re still together.”

  “I won’t be for long. It’s just…it’s hard to know how to break it off. And when. I’ve never been in this situation before.”

  “Are you scared of him?”

  “Are you?”

  “No,” I lied.

  She gave me a strange look then. “Brad said today he and his friends are going to kill you and Chris.”

  I tried not to show how frightened her words made me. “They wouldn’t actually kill anybody.”

  She chewed her bottom lip, appeared to think something over. “Do you know the real reason Brad has that scar on his wrist?”

  Before I could answer, a voice from the trees said, “I could kill you for dragging me out here.”

  Kylie Ann Lubeck emerged from the spruce trees.

  “Wait,” I said. “Has she been listening the entire time?”

  “Don’t worry,” Kylie Ann said sourly, “I couldn’t hear most of it. Just your voices. Believe me, that was more than enough.”

  I looked at Mia.

  “Kylie Ann has performance anxiety,” Mia explained. “She had to pee, but apparently she couldn’t because we were talking too loud.”

  Kylie Ann looked around with distaste. “It wasn’t just your voices—it was all the bugs and the weeds and the—” She shuddered. “Can we just go back to your house?”

  “You can,” Mia said lightly. “I’m going with Will.”

  “Well isn’t that sweet?” Kylie Ann said. “Makes me want to puke.”

  She pushed past us in the direction Rebecca had taken a few minutes earlier. Her curly black hair cascaded over her toned shoulders, and the rest of her body was just about perfect too. But though some girls had personalities that enhanced their looks, Kylie Ann was the opposite. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but man, it was difficult.

  I looked at Mia, who wore a wry grin.

  “She’s like a ray of sunshine,” I said.

  Mia chuckled. “Come on. Take me to your secret fortress.”

  And taking my hand, she led me down the trail.

  ¨

  We made it to the clearing and pulled up next to Kylie Ann.

  Who was staring up at the treehouse in disbelief. “I am not going up there.”

  Mia looked over at her. “Afraid to break a nail?”

  “First of all,” Kylie Ann said, “it’s really freaking high. Secondly, it doesn’t look safe. And if these morons built it, I’m positive it’s not safe.”

  “You’re a really warm person, Kylie Ann,” I said. “I can feel the love coming out of you in waves.”

  “Not to mention,” she went on, “there’s not even a real ladder. Those boards look like they’re full of splinters, and who knows if they’re even bolted to the tree properly. I could get to the top and have one come off in my hands, and then I’d be in the hospital with a fractured neck.”

  “That wouldn’t be a big loss,” I muttered.

  Mia elbowed me in the side.

  “Come on up!” a voice called from the treehouse. Craning our necks, we saw Rebecca poking her face through the window opening. A moment later, another face appeared. Chris.

  Barley appeared in the trapdoor opening, an eager smile on his face. “Hi, Kylie Ann. Have you ever been in a treehouse before? We can tell ghost stories!”

  I felt a wave of affection for my friend.

  Kylie Ann rolled her eyes. “Goody.”

  Mia said to them, “I don’t think Kylie Ann’s going to join us.”

  “Big surprise,” Chris said. “Kylie Ann won’t go anywhere unless there’s someone playing the violin and handing out mints.”

  “Hey!” Kylie Ann shouted.

  “Well, it’s true,” Chris said. “You need to stop being such a stuck-up princess.”

  I looked away so Kylie Ann wouldn’t see me smiling.

  She looked like she was about to murder someone. “That’s it,” she said, “I’m going home. And this time I am telling Kurt and Brad where you two are.”

  Mia shook her head. “Why are you like this?”

  Kylie Ann rounded on her. “Why do you cheat on your boyfriend with this loser?”

  Mia’s gaze went stony. “He’s not a loser.”

  But Kylie Ann was too worked up to stop now. She motioned toward me. “Look at him. Old clothes. One of his shoes has a hole in it. For Christ’s sakes, why don’t you just go to the homeless shelter and hook up with one of the bums?”

  Mia stepped closer to her, her expression seething. “You’re an ass.”

  Kylie Ann recoiled with a breathless little laugh. She put up a hand to show she was done with the argument. “You deserve anything Brad does to you.”

  And with that, she moved away.

  “Come on,” I said, feeling sick to my stomach. “Let’s go up.”

  Mia allowed herself to be led toward the ladder.

  But Kylie Ann evidently wanted to have the last word. She stopp
ed on the far edge of the clearing and shouted, “You’re a bitch, Mia!”

  Mia opened her mouth to say something, but that’s when a large, pale hand shot out of the shadows and closed over Kylie Ann’s mouth. She was lifted off her feet, and then she disappeared into the forest.

  For an endless moment, Mia and I could only stare. We looked at each other.

  “Will?” she said, her voice small and terrified.

  We heard a strangled cry, the sound of someone being dragged away through the forest.

  “What was that?” Barley called from above us.

  “We have to go after her,” I said.

  Mia clutched my arm. “Do you think it was…”

  She let the rest go unspoken.

  “Stay here,” I said.

  I took off into the forest.

  I’m not sure why I sprinted after Kylie Ann. After all, she’d just called me a loser and made fun of my clothes. Part of me hated her. She represented everything I’d come to loathe. People who believed themselves better than others. Selfish people.

  I was pretty sure I hated Kylie Ann Lubeck.

  But that didn’t mean she deserved to die.

  I lunged into the forest at a point about twenty feet to the left of the trail, where I thought I’d seen the brush moving after Kylie Ann had been dragged into the darkness. Immediately I was beset by nettles, vines, by slender branches that whacked me in the chin as I tried to give chase. Thorns tore at my clothes, my skin. Behind me I could hear Mia shouting. I heard Chris, Barley, and Rebecca too, all of them calling my name. But I knew time was short. Whoever had taken Kylie Ann had done so with the intent of bearing her off to a secluded place. I don’t know how I knew this, but on a gut level I did. Who had taken her didn’t matter at that point, though later it would become the primary question on all our minds. But at that moment, the only thing that mattered was finding her before she disappeared entirely.

  My shoe snagged on a root, and I damn near landed on my face. But somehow I pinwheeled my arms, got control of my body, and regained my balance.

  I listened.

  Silence for a moment. Then a rush of movement to my left.

  I wheeled in that direction, closing my eyes as I slammed into the intersection of two pine trees. Their furry branches scraped over me, reminding me of a large car being run through a narrow carwash. Then I burst out of the trees and found myself in a small clearing. My eyes darted around the shadowy space, scanning for any sign of Kylie Ann or her abductor.

 

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