by P. J. Night
“You really don’t need anything besides your sleeping bag,” Jenna added. “And maybe a flashlight. I have a tent and a tarp and everything already.”
Laurel smiled. “Okay,” she gave in. “I’ll be there.”
“Excellent,” Jenna said. “Next Friday night. Best-case scenario? We find proof that the Marked Monster really exists. Worst-case scenario? We have an awesome campout.”
“Uh, Jenna,” Laurel said, “I think you might have those reversed.”
Everyone laughed, until Maggie’s laugh turned into a yawn so big that her jaw cracked. “Let’s go back to sleep,” she said. “I’m so tired I can’t even think anymore.”
No one argued as Maggie turned off the light, and soon the room was dark and quiet as one by one, the girls drifted off to sleep.
Jenna listened to the calm, even breathing of her friends as she made a mental list of everything she had to do before the campout. I’ll ask Mom and Dad’s permission when I get home tomorrow, she thought drowsily. And get the tent out of the basement to air it out. And make a list of snack stuff to buy. And …
Before she could finish her thought, Jenna drifted off to sleep. But even as she slept, the nighttime noises wove themselves into her dreams. From the creaking of tree limbs blown by the wind to the thin screech of branches scraping across the windows. There was something troubling the deepest parts of Jenna’s mind, something that was trying to warn her.
If only there was a way for Jenna to understand.
In the morning, everything seemed normal—from the sun streaming through the window to the sleepy yawns from girls who had gotten only a few hours of sleep the night before. It was easy, in that bright morning sunshine, for Jenna to think only about the fun parts of camping … and not the creature that had left its claw in the clearing. She stood in front of the mirror above Maggie’s dresser as she pulled her short blond hair into a low ponytail. Jenna had cut her hair over winter break, and it still hadn’t grown back to a length where it could comfortably fit into a ponytail, but every day she tried. And every day she wound up with a tiny little ponytail gathered at the top of her neck.
“Hey, Maggie, I’m gonna take your shirt home to wash it and get that blood stain out,” Jenna called across the room, where her friend was already peeling the polish off her fingernails. It was one of her weirdest quirks—a fresh manicure lasted only a few hours before Maggie started attacking it.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Just throw it in the hamper,” Maggie replied, not looking up. “My mom can do it.”
“Jenna, don’t forget your claw!” Brittany said loudly, pointing across the room.
“Yeah, seriously don’t forget that,” Maggie added, laughing.
“Oh, I would never,” Jenna said. “Because after we prove that the Marked Monster is really out there, I’m going to sell it online for big money.”
“You wish!” Brittany cracked.
“Hey, what time does the library open today?” Laurel asked.
“Noon,” Maggie replied. “Are you working on your history project?”
Laurel nodded. “My research is almost done, but I haven’t even started the poster yet! I have to find all those visual-aid things. And write captions. And—”
“Stop, stop, stop,” Jenna interrupted her, clapping her hands over her ears. “I don’t even have a topic yet!”
“Really?” Laurel asked. “You know it’s due in, like, a week, right?”
“I know, I know,” Jenna groaned. “I just haven’t been able to think of a topic. I wish it could be about anything. ‘The history of Lewisville and the surrounding area’—come on, like there could be anything more boring than this town.”
“A paragraph on your topic is due on Monday!” Maggie said. “That’s the day after tomorrow.”
“Come on, don’t make me feel any more stressed out about it,” Jenna said. “I’m going to figure out a topic today, and tomorrow I’m going to write the paragraph. Okay?”
“You want to come to the library with me this afternoon?” Laurel asked her.
“I would,” Jenna replied as she glanced out the window. “But I’m just not in mood for doing research today. It’s too nice outside to spend the day in the library!”
Maggie laughed. “Jenna, at some point you’ve gotta get started on your project! Listen, I’m going to the library after school on Monday. Come with me. My mom can drive us home after.”
“Thanks,” Jenna said. “And if anybody has any ideas for a topic that you’re not going to use …” She slung her backpack over her right arm—the one without the cut. “Bye, everybody!”
She gave one last wave to her friends, then skipped down the stairs two at a time and let herself out the front door. She and Maggie had been best friends since first grade, and she felt nearly as comfortable in Maggie’s house as she did in her own. They lived only half a mile apart, too—and Jenna had walked that route so often that she could do it on autopilot. Which was exactly how she got home, turning corners without really thinking about where she was going. Jenna wanted to forget about what a big fuss her friends had made about the history project, but their words repeated in her mind. I’ll go ahead and get started today, she promised herself. Hopefully I can at least think of a topic that won’t completely put me to sleep.
When Jenna got home, the front door was locked, and both her parents’ cars were gone. She fished the key out of her pocket and opened the front door. The house was quiet and cool inside.
“Hello?” she called out. “Anybody home?”
Silence.
But that was to be expected. Jenna’s mom was a doctor who often worked nights and weekends in the local hospital’s emergency room. Every Saturday morning Mr. Walker ran errands—that must be what he was doing now. As for Jason? Well, Jenna didn’t know where he was. Ever since he’d started high school last September, Jason seemed to have a lot of secrets.
At least it’s quiet around here today, Jenna thought. Hopefully I can get some work done since Jason’s not hogging the computer.
After she dumped her backpack and sleeping bag in her bedroom, she went back to the den to turn on the computer. While it was warming up, she poured herself a glass of orange juice in the kitchen. Then she noticed the box of cat food on top of the fridge. I hope Mom remembered to feed the stray cat last night, she thought. Just in case her mother had forgotten, Jenna decided to put a little extra food outside. She didn’t want the poor cat to be hungry.
Across the yard, at the old tree stump, she found a pile of dry food—apparently untouched. She frowned. It wasn’t like the cat to miss a meal. “Here, kitty, kitty,” she called softly, though she didn’t have high hopes of seeing the little cat, who usually appeared around dusk, just as it was starting to get dark.
SLAM!
A sudden crash shattered the stillness around her.
Jenna spun around, her heart pounding.
The back door was closed—and she knew she’d left it open.
It was just the wind, she told herself. Don’t freak out.
But it wasn’t a windy day. In fact, the air was still.
Unusually still.
Stop it, Jenna thought fiercely. Stop freaking out over nothing.
But she couldn’t shake the fear that someone—or something—had closed the door. And with her back to the house, someone—or something—could have entered … and she would never know.
At least, not until she went back inside.
Jenna bit her lip as she stared at the back door. She wished, for one fast moment, that her mom and dad were home. She wished that right now her dad was about to mow the lawn and her mom was sitting in the chair by the window, reading a magazine.
But wishing wouldn’t make it happen. Jenna was home alone, and she had to go back inside the house.
Alone.
At least, she hoped she would be alone.
She mustered all her courage and walked swiftly across the lawn. She hesitated for only a second before she
yanked open the door. She stood in the threshold and called out, “Hello?” as loudly as she could.
She was surprised by how normal her voice sounded. You’d never know that she was so scared.
The same silence that had greeted Jenna when she got home hung in the air. After several seconds in the doorway, she charged back into the house, scolding herself for getting all freaked out over nothing.
Her orange juice was still sitting on the counter. Jenna grabbed the glass and carried it over to the computer station in the den. I’ll just check my e-mail for one minute, she thought. And then I’ll really get to work.
But right after Jenna entered her password, she heard a sound that made her freeze.
Thunk-scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape.
Thunk-scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape.
Thunk-scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape.
The sound was coming from the hallway.
There was no denying it, Jenna realized, as cold goose bumps covered her entire body. Something was in the house, making some mysterious, horrifying noise, unlike anything she had ever heard before.
And it was coming closer!
Can I get to the door? Jenna wondered wildly. The front door, the back door, a window—can I get out of here?
She didn’t know what to do.
Thunk-scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape.
If only she could figure out where, exactly, it was coming from—the front of the hall or the back of the hall—maybe, Jenna thought, she had a chance to get out. A chance to escape. All she had to do was pick the right door.
But there was no more time to think. She had to make a decision. She had to move, fast—
Before it was too late.
Without making a noise, Jenna crept through the den, hugging the wall as if she could make herself invisible. All too soon she found herself at the entrance to the den. She had to decide—front door or back—and pray that she didn’t make the wrong choice.
Taking a deep breath, she dashed into the hall.
A scream stopped her in her tracks.
“Jason?” she exclaimed.
“Jenna! What—what—” her brother sputtered.
Jenna started to laugh. “Did I scare you?”
“No!”
“Because you seem kind of, you know, scared,” Jenna teased him. “Or at least startled.”
“I didn’t know you were home, okay?” Jason answered. “All of a sudden you came sprinting out of the den like some—”
“Sorry I scared you,” Jenna replied, smirking. It wasn’t often that she had the chance to tease Jason as mercilessly as he usually teased her.
Then she took a closer look at her brother, and her eyes grew wide. “Jason? What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he said shortly. But the red blush creeping up his neck gave him away.
Jenna’s eyes flitted over the stretchy elastic sweatband pulled across Jason’s forehead, and the four heavy cement blocks he was dragging down the hallway.
“Let me guess,” she said as she started to giggle. “You’re going to build some kind of wood-and-cement thing that you will try to smash with your bare hands. Are you playing Karate Kid or something?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Jason snapped as he yanked the sweatband off his head.
“No, no, Jason, it’s cool,” Jenna said, laughing. “If you want to work on your martial arts, don’t let me stand in your way. But you might want to find something instead of those cement blocks. Dad’s going to use them to build a barbecue pit out back.”
“Yeah, he’s been saying that for, what, three years now?” Jason asked.
Jenna and Jason grinned at each other for a moment.
“When did you get home, anyway?” he asked her.
Jenna shrugged. “A little while ago,” she replied. “I went outside to feed the cat and—hey, was that you who closed the door on me?”
“Sorry. I didn’t see you,” said Jason.
“How could you?” Jenna said. “Not with that sweatband covering your eyes!”
This time Jason ignored Jenna’s teasing. He pushed past her and went into the den, where he plunked himself down at the computer and started swigging her juice.
“Is this your e-mail?” he asked as a wicked smile crossed his face. “I wonder what MagPie13 has to say?”
“Jason! No!” Jenna shrieked as she ran over to the computer. “Mind your own business!”
“‘Hey, Jenna,’” he read. “‘You left your claw here. I’m gonna drop it off on the way to the mall because I don’t want the Marked Monster coming here to look for you!’”
“Quit it, loser!” Jenna yelled as she elbowed Jason’s hand off the mouse. Instantly she closed her e-mail.
But it was too late.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jason said. “What is old MagPie talking about? What is this claw?”
“It’s nothing—just this thing I found in the woods,” Jenna said with a shrug. “I told a scary story last night about the Marked Monster, and I used the claw as a prop. No big deal.”
“Ooh, the Marked Monster!” he sang out. “Spooooky!”
“What do you know about it?” Jenna asked, curious in spite of herself.
“What, that it’s a stupid legend somebody thought up to scare babies like you?” Jason teased. “What else is there to know?”
“Yeah, exactly,” Jenna said. “Move,” she ordered him, plunking down on the edge of the computer chair as she tried to push him out of it. “I need the computer.”
“Too bad,” Jason said, smirking as he clicked an icon for one of his video games. “I was here first.”
“You were not!” she cried. “You were in the hall grunting like a pig as you dragged those stupid cement blocks to your room! Come on, Jason. I have homework.”
“You have homework? Please.” He laughed. “Just wait until you get to high school. Then you’ll know what it means to have homework.”
“Come on,” Jenna begged. “Please! I have so much work to do on my history project for Mrs. Ramirez. You know Mom always says that homework comes before video games!”
“Whoa, I remember that project. It was hard. What’s your topic?”
“I don’t have one yet,” she admitted. “What was yours?”
“Farming in the 1800s,” Jason remembered. “There were a bunch of old diaries in the Lewisville Archives at the library. Man, those people had it rough. They almost ran out of food one year when the crops didn’t do well.”
“You’re still sitting in my chair,” Jenna reminded him.
“Here you go, moron,” her brother said as he stood up from the computer chair. “Have fun with your research. I just realized I better get those cement blocks out of the hallway before Mom gets home from the hospital.”
In the doorway, Jason paused. “Maybe you should do your report on the Marked Monster,” he called over his shoulder.
“Thanks. Great idea,” Jenna said sarcastically. “Actually, I mean garbage idea. I don’t want to get an F.”
“Whatever. It’s part of the town’s history,” Jason shot back. “Excuse me for giving you an awesome topic that won’t bore you to death.”
With that, he disappeared into the hall, and once again Jenna heard:
Thunk-scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape.
Thunk-scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape.
Thunk-scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape.
She scrambled out of her chair and ran to the hallway. “Jas?”
When he looked up from the cement blocks, Jenna could see little beads of sweat dotting his red face. “What?” he asked.
“You really think the Marked Monster would be a good topic for my project?”
“I don’t know. Yeah,” he said. “Haven’t the legends about the Marked Monster been passed down for, like, two hundred years or something?”
“That long?”
“Something like that. And I remember reading in one of the diaries that the town council passed a law that nobody could build or plant crops in the Sacred Square.”
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“The what?” Jenna said, raising her eyebrows.
“I don’t remember exactly, but there was a place in the town called the Sacred Square, and this new settler wanted to build a cabin on it, and everybody got all upset and called an emergency meeting about it,” Jason said, wrinkling his forehead as he tried to remember. “And it was because of an old superstition about the Marked Monster. Some Native American deal with the creature or something.”
“Wow. That sounds really cool,” Jenna said thoughtfully.
“I’m waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“An apology,” Jason replied smugly. “Weren’t you just making fun of my project idea for you?”
“Yes. Yes, I was,” Jenna said. “I’m sorry, Karate Kid. You were right and I was wrong.”
“Shut up.”
“Sorry, Sensei. I apologize, Master. Please, Sensei, accept my most humble apologies.”
“Shut up, moron.”
“Yes, Sensei. I’ll shut up now, Sensei.”
Jason slammed the door on his way into his bedroom, which made Jenna laugh even harder. She sat down at the computer and typed “Marked Monster in Lewisville” into a search engine. It took half a second for a dozen links to flash onto the screen. Jenna’s curiosity about the Marked Monster grew with every link she clicked on. This is going to be an amazing topic, she thought—even though she hated to admit that her brother had been right. I want to know everything about the Marked Monster!
As she sat there, learning more from each link, Jenna had no idea how much she would regret it.
At dinner that night, Jenna’s dad had one question for her: “How is that history project coming?”
“Great, actually!” Jenna replied with a big grin. She’d spent the entire afternoon glued to the computer, scribbling down all kinds of notes for the report she had to write. She definitely had enough background information to write the summary paragraph that was due on Monday. “I finally have an awesome topic, and it’s really interesting. Is it okay if I go to the library with Maggie after school on Monday? Her mom can drive us home.”
Jenna’s parents beamed at her. “Of course it is, sweetie!” her mom said. “Tell me all about your topic!”