Wicked Cries (The Wicked Cries Series Book 1)

by Michelle Areaux

  Copyright

  Wicked Cries is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  WICKED CRIES: A NOVEL

  Copyright © 2017 by Michelle Areaux

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by KP Editing

  Cover design by KP Designs

  Published by Kingston Publishing Company

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  About the Author

  Extras

  Dedication

  Thank you to my family for supporting me through my first journey as an author.

  I also want to thank Janet Mota with M&M Beta Readers for guiding me through the first editing and formatting of my first novel.

  Chapter One

  I didn’t think my night could get any worse. Well, that was until the dead girl punched me in the face. The Electric Night Club was over-crowded with sizzling teenagers bumping and grinding their sweaty bodies against one another in the thick and humid air. Amber, Lia, and I had been sitting around our usual table at the underage teen club, celebrating the end of summer vacation and our last night as high school students together. Within the sultry night club, the heat was almost as bad as the vibrating techno music blaring from the loud speakers above our heads.

  No one noticed my bloody attack until after I was already lying on the cold ground. Of course, no one else seemed to notice the freakishly tall blonde girl glaring down at me. Then again, they wouldn’t, because she was dead. Unlike me, everyone else was normal and didn't find themselves intertwined with the angry deceased.

  I lay on the cold, sticky ground, repulsed by the amount of spilled drinks that seemed to glue me to the floor. Music and voices blended together until the room became more of a holding cell than a dance club. I searched through the crowd for my best friends, Amber and Lia, only to find my attention focused on the DJ at the front of the club. The volume in the room exploded when Tanner Mason grabbed the microphone from the surprised spikey-haired DJ. "School’s out, everyone party!" Tanner, the undeniably gorgeous homecoming king yelled over the booming noise as he stood on a metal chair, holding a large cup in one hand. Liquid spilled out over the edges and onto a group of dancing girls as he banged his head with the beat of the music. Cheering erupted from the crowd and everyone threw their hands in the air as they danced. Hosting this incredible bash was just another notch on his jerk-belt.

  Amber was still sitting in our booth, the sharp tone of her voice cutting through the music. "He's such a loser; I can’t believe I dated him, especially when I should be single for summer." Amber, my overly dramatic yet loveable best friend was, as always, too busy telling another dramatic story about her latest fight with this month’s boyfriend to notice I'd been assaulted. Tanner had dumped Amber before summer break, but in her story, she was the one doing the dumping. Her hands were waving in front of her as she spoke, adding juicy drama to help get her point across. The sharp thump of a new beat blaring through the speaker startled the group, making my absence from my seat noticeable.

  "So, of course, I told him to get lost when I found the necklace in his car that totally wasn’t mine…" Still rambling on about her latest dating disaster, Amber reached for my leg and jumped when all she grabbed was moist air. She stopped talking, bounced up, and her mouth dropped about ten feet when she noticed I was on the ground. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers, especially when she saw the bright red blood dripping from my nose. She reached her hand out to offer me support, and said loudly, "Sadie! Your nose! What happened?" She fumbled through her purse for a tissue, and then yelled for Lia, the motherly one of our group.

  Lia pulled me up off the floor, inspected my nose, and helped clean the dirt off my shorts. My heart was beating against my chest in the same fast rhythm as the music. Though my legs were trembling, I tried to keep my cool. I couldn’t let them see my fear; I had to pretend I'd had an accident and that I wasn't engaged in a bloodbath with the dead.

  I rolled my eyes and found my voice just in time to see a crowd begin to gather around us. "I’m fine," I yelled. "It’s nothing‒just a minor nose bleed." I smiled, trying to take the focus off myself. This was just the thing I needed on my last night in town: a juicy story starring myself. I could already hear the gossip spreading.

  "Did you see what happened?" one girl asked as she stood by the bar sipping her diet Coke like it was her last meal.

  "Yeah, I think her friend punched her," another girl responded, searching through the crowd.

  Great, I thought. Just another reason for everyone at school to think I was even more of a total loser freak. I guess that’s why when I jumped up, knocking my watered-down cola all over the table, everyone looked at me like I was crazy. Who could blame them, really? I was known for having conversations when no one was around and bailing on my friends without a clear explanation. For the last few years I've sort of been a messenger for the afterlife. Think of it as UPS for the deceased. It was a frustrating job—there was no pay, rough hours, and the occasional punch from a cranky dead girl. The bad thing is, I’m the only person who can see and hear these people, so when a situation like this happens, I look a little crazy. I mean, I can’t just tell a bunch of teenagers that a dead girl punched me!

  I didn’t blame everyone for labeling me a freak; it was hard not to agree with them. So, when my parents informed me that we'd be moving across the country to Salem, Massachusetts at the start of my junior year of high school, I didn’t put up too big of a fight. Maybe my demons would remain here. Maybe I'd finally get a chance to be normal.

  As I wiped the blood off my face, I glared at the lanky dead girl staring at me. I knew who she was‒her name is, I mean, was, Charlotte. She'd been bothering me for the last week and refused to be patient with me as I worked to help her move on to the afterlife, or wherever it is that the deceased go. Her once blonde hair hanging straight down her back was dirty, with clots of dirt peeking out from it. Her white shirt was torn, and her jeans were stained with a dark rust color. I knew it was blood‒her blood.
I knew why she was angry too, I just didn’t think she'd take it to this extreme.

  I gave her a piercing look as I moved quickly away from her.

  Amber shook her head. "Sadie, what is wrong with you?" Amber, who was the only person other than Lia who didn’t think I was certifiably insane, nudged my shoulder as she tried to act coy. Amber befriended me in kindergarten, when she thought I was talking to an imaginary friend and not a dead kid, and we've been close ever since. "Did you just fall out of your chair on purpose? I mean, really, Sadie, you've been so weird lately. What is going on?"

  "Nothing," I mumbled, trying to wipe up the mess I'd made. I was soaked with cola and other liquids I didn’t want to think about. "I lost my balance." I tried to look calm, but I knew I must have been as pale as a ghost. Even seeing me frozen and scared stiff wouldn't stop Amber from giving me a hard time. She was lucky she was my best friend.

  The night club was not my usual scene. I preferred a tamer setting, but somehow Amber and Lia had talked me into coming to Electric for one last blowout before I left town for good. Amber, who was rumored to have dated every guy at our school and her country club, never let anyone keep her from having a good time, no matter what was going on.

  Lia reached for some napkins and tried to soak up the mess I'd made. "Seriously, Sadie, I know you’re upset about moving, but you need to calm down." She rolled her baby blue eyes and puffed her long bangs away from her forehead, yelling all the while, trying to make her voice to rise above the crowd.

  I rolled my eyes in return and sighed. If she only knew why I was so jumpy, she’d probably run away screaming.

  "You’re right," I shouted, standing up and moving away from the leather booth. "Excuse me." I started to walk through the crowd toward the ladies’ room, keeping my head up to make sure I didn't cause any more catastrophes. "I'm going to go wash off my face," I yelled over my shoulder, hoping Amber and Lia would stay put. As I walked, I was aware of Charlotte following me. It was hard not to wonder what the kids at the club would think if they knew they were dancing with a dead girl.

  On my way to the bathroom I had to push past several girls who didn’t seem to notice my blood- stained shirt. Everyone continued on with their night of celebrating, unaware that death was lurking just inches from their faces. When I reached the bathroom door, a girl in a pair of stiletto heels stood in my way, keeping me from my destination. After shoving her aside, I found myself safe inside the dark bathroom. I checked each stall, to make sure we were alone, and then tried to find a clean spot to lean against. Not finding anything even remotely sanitary, I opted to stand near the sink. Just my luck, it was full of toilet paper someone had used to clean off her makeup. At least, that's what I told myself it was. The floor was damp from an overflowing toilet that someone had tried, unsuccessfully, to mop. Deciding the safest location was near the door, I checked one last time for anyone who might be in listening distance, and then I began my rant.

  "Charlotte, what the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled, still dabbing at my nose.

  Charlotte materialized in front of me, coming a little too close for comfort. "You never delivered the message," the girl screamed back. Her eyes were as gray as stormy clouds and I could feel her anger brewing. "I want to move on to wherever I'm supposed to go, but I can’t until you do this one last thing for me." Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. It was hard to look at her and not think how beautiful she must have been before she died. She reached out and pushed my shoulders, causing me to slam against the bathroom door. A sharp pain shot through my back, sending a tiny prickling sensation across my skin. Anger erupted inside me, as I tried to push her back, nearly losing my balance when, instead of making contact with her body, my hands slipped through her instead.

  I looked at Charlotte, trying to contain my irritation. "I’m sorry. I meant to do it today, but I was busy." Even I didn’t believe the lie I was feeding her. Truth was, I didn’t know how to deliver the message. Usually, I just write the messages down and mail them to the recipients with no attachment on my part, simple and easy. But this time was different.

  This girl wanted me to tell her ex-boyfriend she didn’t blame him for the wreck that had claimed her life, so he'd stop suffering over her death. Really, it seemed so simple, but I knew something the girl didn’t: her boyfriend, aka, Tanner Mason, was the same Tanner Mason who was throwing this very party at Electric, and he wasn’t upset over her death. In fact, it had only been two weeks since he'd gotten drunk and crashed his new Mustang convertible into a tree, ultimately causing Charlotte's death, but that hadn’t stopped him from moving on to the next blonde girlfriend. My father, the responding police officer, was the one who had found her lifeless body in the car, and Tanner was nowhere to be found.

  With the help of his father, a prominent attorney, Tanner was able to escape any charges, having to do only ten hours of community service, which didn’t seem fair, given his crime. I just couldn’t find it in my heart to tell this girl why I wasn't able to deliver her heartfelt message to such an evil monster.

  "You have to tell him," she exclaimed, her shrill voice rattling the smudged mirror on the wall.

  I took a step closer to her, and with a calm voice said, "Okay." I held my hands in the air. "I'll give him the message."

  Charlotte smiled at me and her body seemed to relax. "Thank you. I just want to move on to…" Her voice trailed off, as she was caught up in the thought. "I don’t know where I'll go, but I can’t stay here like this," she continued.

  I nodded‒I understood what she meant. I'd had this conversation before, more times than I'd like to admit. How tiresome it must be to walk the earth alone, unable to talk to or touch the people you once loved.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fists banging outside the bathroom door. The noise jolted me from my guilty conscience as I considered how I'd let Charlotte down again.

  "Sadie!" Lia was practically crying now and had to stop every other word to catch her breath. "Let us in. We need to make sure you're okay." In true Lia fashion, she was an emotional wreck.

  Charlotte disappeared in a sudden flash. I knew she hadn’t moved on yet, but her time with me was almost over. I took a black Sharpie and notepad from my purse, and quickly wrote her message to Tanner, adding a few of my own personal comments, too. I finished the letter by signing her name. I knew the eerie signature would send Tanner over the edge. To me, that was the message he needed to have: a message from beyond the grave from the girl he'd killed. Happily, I placed the note in my pocket. I sure hoped this didn’t ruin the party.

  Yeah, I did.

  I unlocked the bathroom door and took a quick glance at myself in the mirror, opened the door, and braced myself for one of Lia’s lectures.

  "Lia, I’m fine, really." I rushed the words before she was able to say anything. "I think the heat got to me. You know how hot and crowded this place can get. The high humidity can cause nose bleeds and black outs."

  She looked at me nervously, as if inspecting the information. Her short brown curls bounced against her shoulders when she nodded in agreement.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. First, I get punched in the face, and in front of the entire school population, then I have to lie to my friends.

  I peeked at Amber who was keeping a safe distance from me. She walked slowly through the small space, glancing around the room. "You know, it sounded like you were talking to someone in here," she explained, giving me a suspicious glare.

  It didn’t occur to me that Amber had been exceptionally quiet. Though she usually loved a dramatic scene, she hadn’t said much since my fall.

  My eyes found hers, and I gave her a pleading look. I hoped she wouldn’t pry any further. Of course, I was wrong.

  "I don’t know what you’re talking about." I said. I offered an awkward giggle. "I came in here to clean my face. Maybe you just thought you heard something," I lied, pushing past her.

  I wasn’t really making any sense, but I k
ept talking anyway. Still reeling from the pain, I moved past them and walked toward the bathroom door. I felt a small cringe of guilt as I continued to lie to my best friends. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to tell them about my secret double life, I just knew that getting them involved could be dangerous. I was fine with getting hurt myself, but I couldn’t imagine how horrible I'd feel if something happened to one of them, especially when I'd be leaving in just a few short hours. I wouldn’t be able to protect them then, and the thought made me sick to my stomach.

  I inched my way through the crowd, feeling a wave of sticky heat smack me in the face. It was like an assault. If there was one thing, I hated about living in California, it was the smothering summer heat. With the majority of Shady Oaks High School watching me, I walked toward our designated table. I wanted to get out of there, and fast, but I needed to grab my purse first, and say my last few goodbyes.

  Amber, however, just couldn’t let it go. She followed me too closely, like a lost puppy. At last, she grabbed my arm, and continued her investigation. "I feel like you’re hiding something," she said, never taking her eyes away from mine.

  She shoved me back into the booth I'd been knocked out of only a few minutes ago, where I found myself trapped with a group of girls I didn’t know. I wanted nothing more than to run out of this place screaming, but Amber was not ready to unleash me yet.

  The sweaty, super-starved blonde sitting next to me tried desperately to eavesdrop on our conversation. Her newly dyed, blonde hair showed hints of its original, dark brown. She smiled at us, acting coy, as if she weren't trying to listen to every word we were saying. The smell of her strawberry shampoo and old cigarettes made me nauseous.

  I pushed farther down on the hot leather sofa and leaned into my best friend. Trying to whisper over deafening high punk beats and several hundred voices was not working out for me.

  "Sorry," I yelled as I grabbed my purse. "I guess I'm just a little upset over the move."