He let Tess sleep, but he watched her more and more as the week went on.
Friday, September 23rd
WHEN FRIDAY FINALLY arrived, Ryan found himself sitting in Mr. Spencer’s class, staring at Tess’s empty desk. He blinked, wondering where the time had gone and shifted his gaze to the door, just in time to see her pass right by the classroom and continue down the hall.
Follow her.
He complied, though he couldn’t say for certain why. Ryan felt drawn to her. She was a survivor like himself. Only she wasn’t a part of their group.
He didn’t much care for his group these days. Josh had taken his absence personally. And the rest of the team followed his lead, as always.
Tess’s hips swayed as she walked down the hall. He followed as she descended to the dungeon—the bottom floor of the school that had once functioned as a bomb shelter—then walked into the art studio.
It must have been Mr. Gilbert’s planning period, because the room was empty. Tess didn’t hesitate before walking in, but Ryan stayed across the hall. If she glanced over, he’d keep walking.
She swept her hair off her shoulder and leaned over the stack of baskets, reaching for something on the other side. Ryan’s gaze swept over her in appreciation. Then his breath caught as an unexpected memory flashed through his mind.
Her shy smile over a red solo cup. The flash of a camera, raucous laughter, Tess lying limp on the forest floor.
The sound of a door closing behind him brought him back to the present. Ryan blinked, realizing he’d walked into the art room. He turned and found Derrick Hernandez leaning against the door, arms crossed.
“Wanna tell me what you’re doing in here?” Derrick’s voice sounded low, dangerous.
“Looking for Mr. Gilbert.”
“Uh-huh.” Tess sounded unconvinced. “You’ve been watching me all week.” She moved beside Derrick, putting herself between Ryan and the door. “Why?”
“All week, huh?” Ryan made an elaborate show of looking over Tess. He ignored Derrick’s expression morphing from dark to murderous and took his time, mentally peeling off layers of clothes and imagining what lay beneath them, before dismissing her with an arrogant snort. “Not likely.”
When Derrick’s fist clenched, Ryan snickered. “You gonna hit me, Hernandez? Go ahead and try. But I don’t think your mommy can pull you out of the fire twice.”
“You know what?” Tess snapped.
Derrick grabbed her arm before she could reach Ryan. “You don’t have to stay.”
“Neither do you.” Tess’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I told you this was a stupid idea. We don’t need him. We don’t need any of them. We can figure it out without them.”
“Figure what out?” Ryan asked.
“Who’s next.”
A chill went down Ryan’s spine.
Tess’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “What, you haven’t noticed we’re getting picked off one by one?”
Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound paranoid at all. Maybe you should make an appointment with Mrs. Minchin. Talk this through. Sometimes—”
“If the next words out of your mouth are any variation of ‘accidents happen’ or ‘suicide is contagious,’ I swear to God, Derrick isn’t the one you’re going to have to worry about.”
“Tess.” Derrick put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think—”
Tess spoke right over him. “There’s no one else here, Ryan. You can stop pretending.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ryan pulled open the door.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren’t having nightmares.”
Ryan paused, one foot on the threshold.
“I’ve seen the shadows,” she said softly. “Something else is going on here, and we think you guys know more than you’re letting on. We tried to wait, so we could talk to you all at once, but the others aren’t answering calls or coming to school. So . . . you’re it. What really happened that night?”
Ryan turned and looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t know.”
Derrick studied his face. “You actually don’t remember?”
“My friends died,” Ryan snapped. “If I knew something that would explain why, do you really think I’d keep it to myself?”
“Yes.” Tess said without a hint of apology.
“I wouldn’t.”
“Okay.” Derrick cut off Tess’s next words when he held up his hands. “So you don’t remember everything that happened, but if you’re anything like Tess, you’re getting flashes, a bit at a time, whenever someone dies.”
When he put it like that, it was creepy. “Nothing useful.” Ryan crossed his arms. “Hanging around the bonfire, laughing, talking. Cooking hot dogs. We had marshmallows, but Liam left the bag too close to the fire, so they melted. Pieces of conversation without context and then . . .” He trailed off with a shudder.
“Blood and shadows,” Tess finished.
“Yeah.”
Tess pulled some papers out of her backpack and knelt on the floor to unfold them. A drawing spanned the pages. “Does this mean anything to you?”
Ryan reeled back like he’d been punched as the memories flooded him. Fire, screams, fear filling her dark eyes as shadows tore into David’s flesh. I deserve this.
“Ryan?” Derrick asked, voice wary.
“What the hell!” Ryan demanded. “Did you draw that?”
“Kind of?” Tess shrugged. “Long story. Do you have any idea what it means?”
“You need therapy?”
“Clearly,” Tess agreed. “But Josh said he saw me burn. Now obviously, I didn’t, but maybe there’s a reason we’re all seeing fire.”
“I mean, it was a bonfire.”
“Does the drawing mean anything to you, or not?” Derrick demanded, losing patience.
Ryan studied the two of them for a long moment, trying to figure out how to put them on the right track without getting murdered by Derrick. “It looks like something I saw in a book once.”
Derrick looked up. “What book?”
“One of those stupid prop books at Stalker Ed’s weird-ass museum.”
Derrick’s eyes widened with recognition. “I knew I’d seen it somewhere!”
Ryan nodded, glancing at Tess. “We’ve all been there for field trips and crap. I bet the memory just stuck. The bonfire was kinda near there. Not Stalker Ed’s, but Jenny Johnston’s cabin. I can see it all getting tangled up in your head.”
Tess didn’t dignify that explanation with a response. She glanced at Derrick, looking resigned. “I guess our next step is to pay a visit to Stalker Ed’s?”
“Do we have to?” Derrick asked wryly.
Do we have to? Liam had asked. Blood, flames, screams. His friends’ deaths replayed in his mind. He watched them all die. Over and over again. You deserve this.
“No!” Ryan stumbled back into a desk as the voice invaded his mind. “We didn’t mean to,” he babbled, scrambling back, panic rising. “Nothing ever happened before. Not really. Oh, God. He’s killed us all.”
The shadows on the wall moved, edging down to the floor and stretching toward Ryan, but Tess and Derrick didn’t seem to notice.
“Who—What?” Derrick moved toward Ryan, alarm flashing in his eyes.
“We didn’t mean it! Nothing was supposed to happen!” Ryan sagged against the wall, covering his face with his arms.
Derrick glanced toward the door then at Ryan. “Tess . . . can you get—?”
“On it.” Tess yanked open the door and rushed down the hall, probably to find a teacher.
“Stop! Wait!” Ryan lunged toward her, but Derrick intercepted him.
Derrick might as well have been a brick wall for all the give he gav
e. “Come on, man. What the hell?”
“We’re gonna die,” Ryan gasped. “We’re all gonna—” He broke off as the shadow touched his foot.
Run.
Ryan wrenched free, shoved past Derrick, and took off. He rushed down the hall in a second. He hit the metal doors and stumbled outside. Gravel crunched under his feet as he ran through the parking lot, not even caring about the figure following after him.
He put his back to the road, spread his arms wide, and let the shadows take him.
They hit him so hard, he stumbled backward and fell, his head cracking against the asphalt. Shadows crushed over him. Hot breath shifted against his chest as his body bent and broke under the weight of nothingness.
I deserve this, he thought. Then he didn’t think anything at all.
Chapter 26: Tess
Friday, September 23rd
LEAVES CRUNCHED under me as I curled up on the forest floor, sobbing.
“Hey, hey,” Josh’s voice turned soothing, and he pulled me to him, stroking my hair. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. Look, we’re . . . we’re drunk, I think. I feel weird, too. Maybe it was a bad keg. Don’t cry.”
“Why can’t I just be nice to people?” My shoulders shook as sobs wracked my body. “I’m so mean.”
“No, no, no, no, no. You weren’t. You weren’t mean. Hey.” He kissed the tears off my cheek, not seeming to notice when I cringed away from his touch. “I’m sorry. If you felt like I was pushing you—”
“No.”
“See.” Fabric rustled as he climbed back into his pants. “We’re good. Let’s find your clothes, okay?”
“Okay,” I whimpered.
We set to work, feeling around blindly for my clothing for a few solid minutes before he sighed. “This isn’t doing any good. I can’t see.”
My mind flashed to all the guys standing around the bonfire, and panic pushed some of the fog out of my mind. “Josh, I need clothes.”
He reached down and plucked a shirt off the ground. “I’ve got something in the car.” His voice sounded muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”
I nodded as he walked away, feeling sick, foolish, and embarrassed all at once. My stomach lurched as my mouth filled with saliva. Oh God, I was going to throw up. Why did I drink so much?
My hand touched asphalt. I frowned and pulled back, surprised to find myself on the street outside my school. Ryan? He lay sprawled out on the road, his chest caved in. Oh, God! I crawled forward to get to him, to help, but when I touched him, he vanished, leaving a shirt in his place.
Shivers wracked my body with so much intensity, I almost couldn’t grip the shirt. What was this? Josh’s undershirt? Using a tree for balance, I pulled myself to my feet, ignoring the dark spots threatening to overtake my vision. With shaking hands, I pulled the shirt over my head, stretching the neck hole so my arms could shimmy through, then I crossed the empty sleeves over my chest and tucked them into the neckline. The makeshift dress wasn’t as long as I’d like, but it was better than nothing.
Nausea roiled through my gut, and I gasped as pain wrenched through my body and knocked me to the ground. My head hit the soil, and I couldn’t coordinate my limbs enough to climb back to my feet. The moon hung directly over the clearing, grotesquely full, yet uselessly dim.
“Theresa?” Mrs. Atkins shook my shoulder. “Theresa?”
I jerked up with a gasp, surprised to find myself in the narrow hallway lined by lockers so ancient, the paint chipped off with chunks of rust.
“You fainted, sweetie.” Mrs. Atkins put a hand behind my shoulder as though I might fall back down again at any second. “Can you stand?”
I nodded, and she helped me climb to my feet. The world whirled around me like a kaleidoscope, but somehow, I didn’t fall.
“You’re burning up,” she murmured, supporting most of my weight. “Come on, let’s get you to the clinic.”
The “clinic” consisted of a cot in the corner of the office. Mrs. Atkins brought me a cup of orange juice. I took small sips, though my stomach churned from the new memory? Dream?
Mrs. Atkins set down a phone receiver I hadn’t noticed her pick up. “No one answered at your house, so I called the sheriff. She’s listed as your emergency contact and . . .” She pressed her lips together so tight, they turned white. “You’re staying there, right?”
I closed my eyes as I realized exactly how bad the Planned Parenthood excuse Derrick and I had used to get out of that tardy looked now that the sheriff was letting me stay with her.
You’re going to destroy her, a voice whispered in my head. You’re a leech. You take and you take and you give nothing back.
“Yes,” I whispered, fighting back another wave of nausea that had nothing to do with passing out.
“Normally, I’m supposed to insist you get checked out at the hospital . . .”
I nodded, familiar with the spiel. My mother had withheld consent, for financial reasons. And without her consent, the school would be on the line for the ER bill, which they’d normally be happy to swallow, but this wasn’t the first time I’d passed out at school.
“Did you get enough to eat today, hon?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded, for once believing me. Probably because I was staying at Derrick’s.
“Heavy flow?” she prodded.
I flushed. “Not this week. I think it was just . . . Ryan,” I remembered. “I was coming to tell you that Ryan needed help. He’s—” I broke off when I saw her face. “I wasn’t fast enough, was I?”
Tears glittered in her eyes. “It wouldn’t have mattered. They say the impact—” She drew in a deep breath, struggling to compose herself. “Sheriff Hernandez is here, but it may be a while before she can take you home. She gave the okay for—”
“Did you page me?” Derrick’s voice called from the hallway. I couldn’t see him from my cot in the corner.
“Tess needs to check out.” Mrs. Atkins looked me over with a critical eye, then nodded as if assured by what she saw and turned her attention toward the office door, where I assumed Derrick stood. “Since your mother is occupied at the moment, she’s asked if you can bring her—goodness!” She exclaimed. She grabbed some tissues and rushed out of my sight. “What happened there?”
“What happened where?” I demanded, standing so fast, stars overtook my vision. “What—”
Derrick rounded the corner, taking the tissues from Mrs. Atkins. “It’s just a nose bleed. They’ve been happening a lot lately. I think it’s just the heater.” He motioned to the ceiling.
“Mmm, that happens to me in the winters, too.” Mrs. Atkin’s hands clenched so tight, her knuckles turned white. I could tell by the way her body leaned toward the door that she wanted to be out there helping, even though Ryan was beyond anyone’s help. She cleared her throat and turned back to Derrick. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
Derrick assured her he was and within minutes, I was buckling my seatbelt in his car, trying very hard not to look at the flashing lights and the gathered group of people in the street.
“What really happened with Ryan after I left?” I asked, plugging my phone in. “Did he hit you or something?”
“No, I told you.” Derrick started the car and pulled away from the school. “These nosebleeds have been happening a lot lately. It’s not a big deal.”
I frowned, thinking back. “When did they start?”
“I don’t know what happened with Ryan back there.” Derrick flipped on his blinker, giving no sign he’d heard my question. “He freaked out and took off. I tried to stop him, Tess. I did. The way he was acting . . . I tried to stop him.”
“Hey.” I put a hand on his and waited until he glanced at me. “This isn’t your fault. If he didn’t want to be
stopped, you couldn’t have stopped him. He was literally a linebacker.”
Derrick frowned as if unsure whether to take comfort in me pointing out that Ryan could squish him with a thought or be insulted. “He wasn’t that—”
“Focus.” I snapped my fingers, unnerved by how out of sorts Derrick was. He hadn’t even made fun of my music blaring through the speakers. “Ryan was acting really weird just before he jumped into traffic?”
Derrick nodded, not even surprised anymore that I knew exactly how Ryan had died.
“Chris slit his wrist while talking on the phone to his mother, Finn jumped off a building, and for all we know, Isaac ripped the ceiling fan down with his bare hands—”
“Nothing in the evidence indicates he—”
“You are not a cop,” I reminded him. “Or a coroner or a forensic scientist. Googling the bits of police reports you don’t understand doesn’t make you an expert. Remember?” It was a genuine question. He seemed to forget sometimes.
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because you keep making these leaps that—” I drew in a deep breath. “We’re holding evidence back from the actual experts, Derrick. I don’t want to die because we overlooked something.”
That sobered him. “Yeah, you’re right. Okay, so open minds. The only death that’s not fitting the pattern is Isaac’s, so . . .”
“Maybe they’re wrong about Isaac.”
Derrick frowned. “Suicide pact?”
“I hope so.” I craned my neck as we left Main Street behind. When I noticed his surprised look, I clarified. “Not like that. Just . . . if that’s the case, I’m not in any danger, right?”
“Yeah, so shelve that theory for now. What if you all came into contact with some kind of toxin or something at the bonfire that’s sending you all over the rails?”
“Like in Amityville?” I asked, surprised to find my voice even, despite the possibility that some sort of poison was eating away at my sanity until I died a terrible death. Was this insanity really par for the course now, or was I in shock? If it was shock, would it ever wear off? Because the weird stuff just kept on coming, and I wasn’t sure if I’d had a full-fledged reaction to anything yet.
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