Mortal Kiss

by Alice Moss

  “Dad!” Liz shouted, obviously horrified.

  The policeman didn’t seem to hear, leaning heavily on Finn as he pulled out a pair of cuffs and fastened them tightly around the boy’s wrists. Lucas looked at Sergeant Wilson’s face and felt a needle of cold fear thread through his veins. There was no emotion in the man’s eyes. In fact, there was no sign of life at all. It was like looking at a deep, still pool of water—empty and fathomless.

  “Sergeant Wilson,” Faye began, “please don’t arrest Finn, he was just—”

  Wilson didn’t listen or speak. He marched Finn in front of him through the gathered crowd. Liz followed, touching her father’s arm, trying to get him to stop. The policeman shook her off, sending his daughter crashing into Faye.

  They were almost at the police car when Lucas saw Finn twist around, shouting for Faye.

  “I know where your friend is!” he shouted. “Faye, I know where Jimmy is!”

  Chapter 31: The Mill

  Faye helped Liz up. Her friend was shaking. Faye was trembling too. She’d never seen Sergeant Wilson like that before. He was never violent; he never needed to be. He was too good a police officer for that. Around them, the rest of Winter Mill High’s students were heading back into the Battle of the Bands, discussing what had happened. Faye saw the jacket that had caused the fight still lying on the ground and went to pick it up.

  “We have to follow them,” Liz said, her voice rough.

  “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea,” said Faye.

  “Once we’re at the police station, Dad will talk to me,” Liz insisted, though she sounded as if she was trying to convince herself as much as anyone. “And didn’t Finn say he knew something about Jimmy? If he knows where he is, we should find out, shouldn’t we?”

  Faye couldn’t argue with that. They headed for Liz’s car. Faye saw Lucas standing alone, nursing his jaw, and she realized that Ballard was gone. Faye didn’t feel as if she could just leave Lucas there.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  Lucas eyed her warily. “I’ll be fine. Nice friends you have, Flash.”

  Faye ignored the comment. “Where’s Ballard gone?”

  Lucas shrugged. “No idea. You couldn’t give me a lift home, could you? I don’t want to call my mom.”

  Faye looked around. Liz was already backing the car out of its space. She shook her head. “Look, Lucas, I’m sorry … but I have to help Finn.”

  Lucas looked crestfallen. “Right,” he said.

  “He says he knows where Jimmy is,” said Faye, trying to explain. “And …”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lucas told her, obviously hurt.

  “Lucas? Are you all right?” The voice came from behind them, where a small group of students was still milling around, chattering about what had just happened. It was Rachel Hogan, looking worried. “Look, let me take you home. I’ve got my car here.”

  Faye saw Lucas’s surprised expression. “Oh, that would be really great.

  Thanks.”

  Liz pulled up beside them and hooted. “Come on, Faye! Let’s go!”

  “I’m really sorry, Lucas,” called Faye as she ran around the car, but he was already walking away with Rachel.

  Faye slammed her door, and Liz tore out of the parking lot in pursuit of her dad’s squad car. They headed for the police station, which was on the town’s main street. The sidewalks and roads were quiet—there didn’t seem to be anybody around, even though it wasn’t really that late. Winter Mill looked abandoned and creepy, and Faye shivered miserably. Aunt Pam was right. There was something very strange going on in their town.

  “Look.” Liz pointed, cutting through Faye’s unhappy thoughts. “Ballard’s following my dad too!” The two cars ahead of them passed through town. “Dad’s not stopping at the police station,” Liz said with a frown. “Where’s he going?”

  They followed Sergeant Wilson through the central crossroads and into the old section of town. Faye thought they were going to stop at one of the houses along the road. Instead, they kept going to the town’s limit, making a sharp left and heading up the hill into the dense pine forest that surrounded Winter Mill.

  “I think Dad’s going up to the Old Mill!” Liz muttered as they watched the two cars ahead of them pull onto an old, unused road.

  “But why?” Faye asked. “There’s nothing up there. It hasn’t been used for decades! Why would he take Finn there instead of to the police station?”

  “I don’t know,” said Liz helplessly. “I don’t know why any of this is happening. It’s all crazy. The bikers, the stuff going on in the woods, Jimmy going missing—and now this. Faye, what on earth is happening to us? What’s happening to my dad? Back there … I’ve never seen him like that. He looked so weird. And the way he treated Finn … and now, not taking him to the police station? What’s going on?”

  Faye didn’t have an answer. They drove in silence, and as the track became even narrower Liz slowed down even more. She turned the car’s lights off.

  “Liz! What are you doing?”

  “They’ll see us coming if I don’t!”

  “But there’s no light! We’ll crash! Pull over. Let’s walk the rest of the way—that way they won’t hear us, either.”

  Liz nodded and stopped the car in a hollow of earth that looked as it if might once have been designed to let two carts pass each other. The snow was deep enough to rise over the car’s hood. The two girls slipped out as quietly as they could, stepping in the tire tracks left by Sergeant Wilson and Ballard.

  Ahead of them, the Old Mill loomed out of the darkness, its milling tower making it look like some ancient castle. Faye shivered. She’d never liked this place. Her dad had brought her up here once on one of his local-history tours. When she was little, he’d loved taking her out on pretend archaeological digs around Winter Mill, teaching her about the history of the area. Faye had usually loved it. Learning about how to excavate delicate artifacts had been fun, even if what she found were usually just fragments of dinner plates. Faye had to swallow a sudden lump in her throat at the thought of her dad. She wished he were here for her now, instead of somewhere so far away he couldn’t even call.

  But this place—as soon as she’d seen it, Faye had been filled with a horrible sense of foreboding. Her dad had told her it was one of the earliest buildings in the area. It had first been built as a loggers’ rest, and then later, when the town was bigger, it had milled grain into flour for everyone who lived there. But now it was abandoned, decrepit, its tower a half-destroyed wreck. Faye didn’t understand why they didn’t just pull the whole ugly thing down.

  She and Liz slipped off the tracks and into the trees once they got closer, using Liz’s little key-ring flashlight and the glow of the moon on the snow to light their way. There was no sign of either car, and Faye figured that both Ballard and Sergeant Wilson must have driven right into the mill. Faye hadn’t wanted to say anything to Liz earlier, but during the fight she could have sworn she saw Ballard telling the policeman what to do. Faye didn’t like to think of Mitch Wilson being on the wrong side of the law—he’d been like a second dad to her since she was a baby. But things didn’t look good.

  “What are we going to do now?” Liz whispered. “We can’t just walk in there!”

  Faye looked around. In the gloom she could just make out a gap in the mill’s wooden walls, peeping out of the snow. It would mean they’d have be in the drift to see what was going on, but the only other option was to climb up to one of the broken windows, which would make far too much noise. Faye pointed and Liz nodded. Together, they crept toward the opening, kneeling down so they could see what was happening.

  Inside, the mill was dry but dark. Faye could just make out the two cars, parked side by side. Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and a light burst into life. Faye and Liz both jumped, clinging to each other. After a second, Liz realized what it was.

  “It’s a flare,” she said into Faye’s ear. “Dad lit a flare.” />
  The luminous green glow lit the large space inside. It was empty, except for a few stacks of logs and old, broken wooden crates. Ballard was holding a heavy rope. As they watched, he dragged a chair to the center of the floor. Sergeant Wilson opened the back of his squad car and forced Finn to get out. Faye pulled her camera out from beneath her jacket and angled it up, trying to get a clear shot of what was going on.

  “What are you doing?” Liz hissed.

  “What if we need evidence?” Faye whispered, making sure the flash was off as she grabbed a couple of shots.

  “Evidence of what?” Liz asked.

  Faye didn’t want to think about that.

  Chapter 32: Bound

  The two girls watched as Sergeant Wilson and Ballard tied Finn to the chair. Finn struggled and yelled, but he was no match for the two men, even when Sergeant Wilson removed the cuffs. Ballard tied the boy’s feet and hands together, then twisted the rope around Finn’s neck, forcing his head back, and secured the end to the chair.

  Ballard turned to Sergeant Wilson. “Get out. Now.”

  Liz’s dad didn’t even hesitate. He walked to his car, slid into the front seat, started the engine and backed out.

  “I don’t understand,” Liz said. “Why is Dad taking orders from that horrible man? What’s happening to him? We should go after him!”

  Faye squeezed her arm as they watched the police car disappear down the narrow track. “We have to stay here,” she told Liz. “We can’t leave Finn alone with Ballard.”

  Liz looked miserable but nodded. Through the window, they saw Ballard lift his hand and hit Finn hard across the face. The boy’s head smacked back against the chair, and the girls heard him groan.

  “You think you can interfere with our plans, do you, Finn?” Ballard said, his sinister voice amused. “How long will it take you and your kind to learn you will never win?”

  Finn lifted his head, twisting it from side to side to loosen the rope. He coughed, and Faye was shocked to see blood on his lips.

  “We haven’t lost yet,” Finn managed to say. “And you know we won’t go down without a fight. I’ve seen worse than you come and go.”

  Ballard was circling Finn, the way an animal might stalk its prey. “But you will go down, boy. Look at you. How long has this battle been going on? You never change. And you never learn. I’ve been waiting for one of you to slip up, do something stupid. And what you did in that schoolyard. That was stupid. Drawing attention to yourself. To all of us.”

  Finn coughed. “What do you want?” he rasped. He seemed to be finding it hard to breathe. “Stop playing games. I’ve got better things to do.”

  “I’m going to give you a choice.” Ballard bent over Finn, his voice echoing in the eerie emptiness of the old mill. “Because I’m generous that way, and because I want to send a message. Your kind may have hindered us before, but that’s not going to happen again. So here we are, Finn. You can join us. Or I can kill you, here and now. I can end your pathetic little life once and for all, because I’m tired of your arrogance.” Ballard straightened up. “I’m going to give you five minutes of quiet time alone to make your decision. Make sure you choose wisely. Or your long life might just be at an end.” Ballard walked away, laughing cruelly as he went. As the girls watched, he slid open the main doors of the mill and went into the snow, closing them behind him.

  Faye turned to Liz, her teeth chattering from crouching in the snow. “We’ve got to get Finn out, right now,” she said.

  “We can’t do that on our own!” Liz protested. “Come on—let’s go back to town and get help.”

  “And what if Ballard kills him before we can get back? Whoever we ask for help is just going to call the police, and you know that’s not going to help! Your dad is the only policeman on duty, and he’s the one who brought Finn here in the first place! Come on, Liz, we’ve got to try.”

  Liz shook her head before shrugging helplessly. “OK. OK, let’s do it. But we have to be quick, before Ballard comes back.”

  Faye looked once more into the opening they’d been looking through. They should both be able to fit through it, especially if they dug out a little of the snow as they went. She just hoped there weren’t any rusty nails or nasty spikes of rotten wood hiding underneath. “I’ll go first. Just be careful.”

  Faye began to squeeze through, wriggling her shoulders to fit through the narrow gap. In a couple of minutes she was on the floor on the other side. “Come on,” she hissed to Liz, who was still hesitating. “Hurry up!”

  At the sound of her whisper, Faye saw Finn turn around, obviously shocked to see her. She ran to him, kneeling behind the chair to help him as he struggled against the ropes.

  “Faye, you shouldn’t be here,” he said. “You’ve got to go before Ballard gets back. He’s dangerous. Please, Faye—”

  “Not without you,” she said, fumbling with the heavy knots with cold-numbed hands. She glanced over her shoulder to see Liz making her way inside. “Quick!” she called to her friend. “Help me with these.”

  They managed to get Finn’s legs untied, but they couldn’t get his hands undone.

  “We’ll get it off later,” Liz said urgently. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  Finn glanced at the opening they’d squeezed through. “I’ll never get through there without my hands free. And I won’t be able to run fast enough, either.”

  Faye glanced at the mill doors. There was no sign of Ballard yet, but they were running out of options. “I need something to cut the rope. Do you carry a penknife?” she asked Finn, but he shook his head.

  “Wait!” said Liz. “Wait—I do. Sort of, anyway.” She rummaged in her bag and a second later pulled out a little silver letter opener. “I think one side is sharp enough!”

  Faye reached for it but then stopped, her hand in midair. She stared at the letter opener, pale-faced. It was familiar. “Where did you get this?”

  Liz shrugged. “I found it—that night we went up to the woods and found the wolf tracks and stuff. It was just lying in the snow, all dirty. Why?”

  Faye took it, holding it in the palm of her hand. “It’s my dad’s,” she whispered. “He takes it everywhere with him. It used to belong to my great-grandfather.”

  “What? It can’t be.”

  “It is. It’s got a crack in the handle. I’d recognize it anywhere. Why didn’t you tell me about the knife, Liz—why didn’t you show me?”

  “I—I forgot about it. We were late, and then we heard the bikers, and then we had the blowout, and—”

  “Girls,” Finn interrupted. “Can we please do this later?”

  Faye shook herself. “Right … right. Hold on.…” She went to use the knife on the rope, but Finn backed away.

  “Is that silver?” he asked, looking warily at the letter opener.

  “Yes—why?”

  “Just don’t touch my skin with it, OK? I’m—I’m allergic. Very badly allergic.”

  Faye nodded. Finn held out his wrists and she slid her fingers between his skin and the knot. Finn was warm, and she could feel his pulse throbbing against her hand. His breath blew across her neck as she bent over him, sending tingles down her spine. Trying to ignore how close they were, Faye worked the letter opener into the ropes and began to saw through the fibers.

  “It’s taking too long,” hissed Liz, watching the door. “Hurry up!”

  Faye wrenched at the rope, watching it fray. Just a few more minutes, and …

  “Well, well, well,” said a sour voice behind them.

  All three of them spun to see Ballard, watching them with a vicious look on his face. “Just look what the dog’s dragged in.”

  Chapter 33: Yellow Eyes

  Finn pulled his hands away from Faye and strained against the half-cut rope. Faye watched as his muscles bulged in his arms, the rough threads cutting at his skin. The rope broke suddenly, and he was free. He stood in front of the girls, holding his arms out to shield them from Ballard. The older man walke
d toward them slowly, his hands behind his back and an unpleasant smile on his face.

  “Let them go,” Finn said. “You don’t need them. It’s me you want.”

  Ballard opened his cruel mouth and gave a slow laugh. He brought his arms forward. On both hands he wore heavy brass knuckles—only these were made out of silver—that he must have retrieved from the car.

  “Now, Finn,” said Ballard very softly. He kept walking toward them slowly. “Where would the fun be in that?”

  Finn lunged, hoping to take him by surprise, but Ballard was ready. As Finn went for his legs, the man stepped back, bracing himself to take Finn’s weight. Then, as Finn made contact, Ballard placed his hands on Finn’s shoulders and flipped him backward, sending him head over heels across the floor. Finn crashed into a stack of old wooden boxes, crushing them into splinters that peppered the air with lethal shards. He heard the girls shriek but swallowed the pain, determined not to let Ballard think he had the upper hand.

  “Come on, boy,” Ballard taunted. “Can’t you do better than that?”

  Finn sprang to his feet, worried about Faye and Liz. He pushed them into a corner, where they would be at least partially sheltered by a heavy wooden beam. That would also give him a chance to keep Ballard away from them. Turning back as Ballard lunged, he threw a punch that struck Ballard’s shoulder and spun him around. Finn added a kick that forced him to the floor, though Ballard was back on his feet before Finn could land another. He caught Finn’s foot and turned it over sharply, flinging him into the air. Finn twisted himself to land on his feet. He attacked Ballard again, punching a blow into the older man’s rib cage, but it didn’t even seem to register. Ballard struck back, scissoring his arm into Finn’s throat and leaving him gasping for air.

  Before Finn could recover, Ballard lifted him bodily, snarling as he smashed the boy against the wooden wall. He slammed the silver knuckles against Finn’s throat, pressing them into his Adam’s apple. There was the sharp crackle of searing flesh, and a plume of steam rose from Finn’s skin. Finn screamed as the silver burned him, an ungodly sound that went on and on, turning into a long, moaning howl.