The Whisperer (Nightmare Hall)

by Diane Hoh

  Ignoring the remark, Shea thought, I don’t need a tutor now. What I need is a miracle.

  She filled the remaining hours with as many activities as she could cram in, to keep her mind off what lay ahead. Washed her hair. Dried it. Tried to eat the popcorn Dinah and Sid brought over before they left for a late-night frat party. The few bites she managed to put in her mouth tasted like sawdust. Went with Tandy and Linda to a movie downstairs in the lounge. A comedy. She was the only person there who never once laughed.

  She had to bite her tongue after the movie to keep herself from turning to Linda and saying, “Anyone at your dorm have a thing for speaking in whispers? Making weird phone calls? Writing strange, first-gradish notes?” Or, “Oh, by the way, Linda, I’m going to be out your way around midnight tonight, should I drop in and say hi?”

  When Shea announced that she was going back upstairs, Linda said sweetly, “Shea, you’re awfully quiet tonight. Are you feeling okay?”

  An opening … she could so easily have said then, “No, Linda, I’m not. I’m being tortured by someone who’s blackmailing me into meeting him in the woods behind your Nightmare Hall at midnight tonight. Care to help me out with this?”

  But then, of course, Linda and Tandy would have said, “Well, Shea, exactly what is it that this person is blackmailing you with? What have you done, Shea?”

  She answered instead, for what felt like the thousandth time, “I’m just tired, I guess. Sorry.”

  When she left them in the lounge, Shea felt both relief and a sense of abandonment. It was so hard pretending she was okay when she really wasn’t. But she’d felt safer when she was flanked by two strong, athletic friends. Too bad they weren’t coming with her that night.

  When she got back to her room, she yearned to crawl under the covers and hide, maybe forever.

  But if she did, she was sure the videotape and the paperweight would go straight to the police in Twin Falls or to the campus security police. Or maybe the whisperer would first show the tape in bio class on Monday morning, as Dr. Stark had threatened. He might think that was a great idea. Hilarious.

  The videotape was the real problem. If it weren’t for that, the police would never bother to check her fingerprints against the ones on the paperweight.

  Depressed and frightened, she lay on her bed without music or a book or magazine, until it was time to leave.

  Dressing in jeans, T-shirt, and lightweight windbreaker, and old sneakers in case the woods were muddy, she took a flashlight from her desk and left the room quietly.

  No one was around. She could hear muted voices in several rooms, could hear faint music playing, but the hall was deserted.

  She went on foot to Nightingale Hall. It wasn’t that far. And she argued with herself all the way up the highway. What she was doing was completely stupid. Movies and television shows about blackmail had always driven her nuts. She could never understand how the victims could trust a blackmailing criminal to keep his mouth shut, money or no money. The guy was a criminal, for pete’s sake? If he had ethics, he’d be in a different line of work.

  But now she understood. She was walking in their shoes now, those victims, and she knew, finally, how they felt. You make a very big mistake, and then all you want to do is forget it, have it forgotten. And you’ll do almost anything to make that happen.

  Including wandering around deep, dark woods at midnight. …

  When she reached the driveway leading up to Nightingale Hall, she stopped.

  At midnight, the house looked even more forbidding than it did in bright daylight. The downstairs was dark, the upper floors only dimly lit. The brick seemed the same color as the black night sky.

  Shea fought the urge to turn and run back to the safety of campus.

  Instead, she moved up the hill beside the woods, hunting for the path. She found it without any trouble.

  As she pushed aside overgrown bushes and made her way between the tall, black trees whose limbs stretched toward the night sky, every muscle in her body tensed and her teeth clenched. I’m crazy, I’m crazy as a loon, she told herself angrily. I am too stupid to live.

  But she kept going, stumbling along the path illuminated by her flashlight, down the hill, toward the creek. Even in the complete darkness unbroken by moonlight, she could see, in the distance, the crystal-clear, sparkling water below her.

  And then she could see the boulder, the big rock mentioned in the note, perched at the edge of the creek.

  Her steps faltered. This was it. The eight eternally long hours had passed, she had done what the note instructed, and now here she was, doing the dumbest thing she had ever done in her life.

  There was no one at the creek. No one standing there beside the huge boulder, no one lounging on it, grinning at her, no one wading in the creek, enjoying himself while he waited for her.

  She had made a big, big mistake. She shouldn’t have come. She should have done what she always shrieked at all those television victims to do, “Go to the police! Confess! Tell the truth and get it over with!”

  She should have gone to the dean. Or to Dr. Stark. And told the truth.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe there was some way to prove that she hadn’t been in that office when Dr. Stark was attacked. Some way to save herself. …

  She heard no footsteps, no sound at all. But suddenly, without knowing how, she knew someone was there.

  She half-turned, waving the flashlight’s beam in front of her.

  Nothing. There was nothing there to see. No one standing in front of her or beside her or, as she whirled in a complete circle, behind her.

  But …

  The voice, when it came, was horribly familiar, and no louder than it had been on the telephone.

  “Hi, there, Shea. Have a seat on that nice, big rock. We’re going to be here a while.”

  Chapter 7

  “WHERE ARE YOU?” SHEA cried, turning from side to side, her eyes straining to follow the path of her flashlight as she aimed it into the bushes and boulders along the creekbed. “Why are you hiding?”

  “What you don’t see can’t hurt you,” the voice said mockingly. “Anyway, you don’t need to see me. All you need to do is listen, and listen carefully. I have the tape that could get you expelled. And I have the paperweight that could send you to prison. I’m prepared to give them to you, but first, you must pay the price. And remember, Shea, we get what we pay for. If you don’t do exactly as I say, you get nothing.”

  “But I didn’t …”

  “Shut up! Just shut up and listen.”

  He couldn’t be that far away. He had to be close by, or the whisper would have been drowned out by the wind whistling through the treetops and by the rushing waters of the creek. She played her flashlight over the surrounding area. Nothing. She saw nothing but the woods and the boulders and the underbrush and the creek.

  “Sit down on that boulder behind you,” the voice ordered. “Do it now!”

  She sat, stiffly, every muscle in her body on alert. If he came up behind her, as he’d probably done with Dr. Stark, he was not going to take her by surprise. And she had the flashlight to use as a weapon. Lightweight plastic, but better than nothing.

  “Here is what you’re going to do,” the whisper commanded. “Tomorrow night, about this same time, you’re going to go to the Animal Behavior Studies lab. The door will be unlocked. You’re going to go inside to the center table, to the glass box holding the snake they call Mariah. There’s a small tag on the front of the glass, with her name and species. So you’ll have no excuse for making a mistake and picking up the wrong snake.”

  Picking up … a snake? He wanted her to capture a snake from the lab? She hated snakes. Slimy, slithery reptiles made her sick. Always had. At summer camp, she had invented some very creative excuses to avoid the nature hikes, convinced that the woods were crawling with rattlers and black-snakes.

  “You’re crazy,” she said into the darkness. Where was he? Talking to someone who could see her b
ut couldn’t be seen made her feel like a specimen under a microscope. He had to be watching her, waiting to see what she’d do, how she’d react.

  “I’m afraid of snakes,” she added. “Terrified. What do you want a snake for, anyway?”

  “You didn’t let me finish. That’s very rude, Shea. And I don’t care what you’re afraid of. Doesn’t make any difference. You aren’t being given a choice here, remember that. You are to pick up the snake using the noose that’s hanging beside the cage. The small black handle with the loop on one end. You’ll lift the cover of the cage and slip the loop over Mariah’s neck. Have a bag ready. The bags are lying on the shelf under the table. When you’re sure the noose is around the snake’s neck, tighten it just enough to pick her up. Then you’ll dump her into the bag and close the top. Quickly. That’s the first part of your payment. “

  The first part? Well, no point in hearing the second part. Because she was never in a million years going to be able to perform the first part. No way.

  “You’ve got the wrong person,” she said quietly. “I can’t do it. I can’t!”

  “Of course you can. And you will. The snake is perfectly harmless. Well, almost. Its poison sacs have been removed. Of course, it still has fangs, so a little caution might be in order.”

  Her pulse, already far too rapid, skipped a beat. “Why do you want the snake?” she asked hoarsely.

  “It’s just a joke. A joke, that’s all. No one’s going to get hurt. You’ll put it in the bag and then you’ll take it to Lester, sixth floor, room 620. That’ll be unlocked, too. You’ll open the door and take Mariah out of the bag, loosen the loop around her neck, toss her into the room and close the door. That’s all there is to it. Piece of cake.”

  Shea’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding! You want me to steal a snake and throw it into somebody’s room in the middle of the night? What for?”

  “I told you, it’s a joke. Harmless fun. It’s not like I’m asking you to commit murder, Shea. Chill out.”

  “Whose room is it?”

  “You don’t need to know that. Not important. I suppose you can find out easily enough, but it won’t make any difference. You have to do it. Or I will take your first feature role in films straight to the administration, along with your fingerprints on copper. I’m sure you realize that they’ll be immediately turned over to the Twin Falls police.”

  The police … prison … “How do I know you really have them?”

  “If I didn’t, how would I know you were on the tape? That those were your dried bloodstains on the paperweight?”

  Shea sagged back against the boulder. “If I do this” … but of course she wasn’t going to, couldn’t … “if I do this, will you give me the tape?

  “I will. I promise. “

  Shea laughed harshly. She’d always laughed when they got to this part in the movies. Why would anyone be dumb enough to trust a blackmailer?

  Now she knew the answer. It wasn’t a matter of trust. It was a matter of having no other choice.

  Still, something stubborn inside her made her say, “I don’t have to do what you say.” She said it slowly, thoughtfully, as if she were thinking out loud. “I can go straight to the administration and tell them the truth. And take my medicine.”

  “Maybe you could have before Dr. Stark ended up in the hospital. Maybe they wouldn’t even have expelled you. Just put you on probation. But now … well, use your imagination.”

  Shea swallowed, hard. As long as he was willing to give her the tape and the paperweight, maybe she still had a chance to turn things around. She’d do what he said, then if he kept his word, she’d destroy the paperweight and the tape when she got them. It wouldn’t be like she was destroying valuable evidence. Both pieces of evidence pointed to her, and she hadn’t bludgeoned Dr. Stark.

  “Are you sure that’s all I have to do … get the snake and take it to Lester? Then you’ll give me the tape?”

  “I will,” the voice repeated. “Honor among thieves and all that. Do as I tell you, and the tape is yours.”

  There was a slight rustling sound in the woods behind her, then silence.

  “Are you still here?” Shea asked uncertainly. “Where will I meet you so you can give me the tape?”

  No answer.

  He was gone.

  She had her orders. Now, all she had to do was decide whether or not she could carry out the task assigned. And if she decided she couldn’t, she’d have to come up with a way out.

  Any way you sliced it, she was in for twenty-four hours of agonizing, of not eating, not sleeping, no peace, no quiet, no safety, her nerves shrieking.

  Shea stood, glancing through the woods and up the hill toward faint lights shining from Nightmare Hall’s windows. It seemed so ironic, so unfair, that Tandy, sleeping in that creepy old house, was far safer, after all, than Shea was.

  Chapter 8

  THE GIRL SITTING BEHIND the reception desk at Lester looked up without interest when Shea entered the deserted, tile-floored lobby the next morning. “Up early, aren’t you?” she said irritably. Her nap had been interrupted.

  “Who’s in room 620?” Shea asked abruptly.

  Without checking, the girl answered, “Bethany Briggs and Annette Driscoll.” Then she closed her eyes again.

  As Shea headed back to her own dorm, she thought about the two girls. Shea knew both girls, although not well. Bethany was a pale, quiet girl with straight blonde hair, who never spoke up in class. Annette was just the opposite: tall, gorgeous, very outgoing, and popular. Some people called the roommates “The Odd Couple” because they were so very different. And yet they seemed to be good friends.

  Which of them, Shea wondered as she turned to leave, was the target of tonight’s practical joke? Would one of them really find the snake stunt funny?

  Or … had one of the roommates somehow made the whisperer angry? Was this his way of getting revenge?

  Shea shook her head. Thinking that way was dangerous. Because if she believed it was anything more than a simple, harmless practical joke, she’d never be able to go through with it. It was going to be close to impossible as it was.

  “Whatever you’re thinking about, it must be heavy stuff,” an amused voice said from behind her as she reached out to pull Devereaux’s wooden door open.

  Coop. Standing before her as she turned around. He was smiling, as if he was glad to see her. “How about breakfast?” he suggested. “Maybe food will snap you back to reality. Not in the dining hall, though. Mrs. Doyle didn’t raise stupid children. Feel like hiking up the road to Burgers Etc.? They make a mean omelet.”

  She hadn’t planned to eat. Now that she knew who was in room 620, she had planned to do nothing on this beautiful spring day but hide in her bed, talking to no one, trying to gear up for what she had to do at midnight.

  But … shouldn’t she be acting normal? If she hid out all day, there would be questions from her friends. “What’s wrong, Shea?” “Are you sick, Shea?” She could hardly say, “Well, it’s like this, I need all my energy for this disgusting thing I have to do tonight if I don’t want to end up in prison.”

  “Breakfast sounds great,” she said, hoping Coop wouldn’t pick up on how phony that sounded. How sensitive was he, anyway?

  Sensitive enough, she learned a short while later to notice that she wasn’t eating anything.

  “You okay?” he asked, looking at her intently.

  Leave me alone, she wanted to say. Don’t get mixed up with me. You think I’m something I’m not. Everyone does. The truth is, I’m in a whole lot of trouble and I don’t want to see the look on your face when you find out what a mess I’ve made of things.

  She didn’t say any of that. All she said was, “I thought I was hungry, but I’m not.” And then she surprised herself by bringing up a subject she had thought she didn’t want to discuss. The words just slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Have you heard any more about Dr. Stark?”

  Coop shook his head,
sending a strand of dark hair sliding across his forehead. He pushed it back impatiently. “She still can’t walk. That’s all I know. Haven’t heard anything about the summer job in the lab yet, either.”

  “Dinah said Dr. Stark wasn’t wild about Sid,” Shea said. “Isn’t that a good sign? For you, I mean?”

  Coop laughed. “She yelled at everyone in the lab, not just Sid. And she came up behind me in the hall one day and heard me telling Tandy I wondered where Stark parked her broomstick.”

  Coop’s expression turned grim. “My whole life flashed before my eyes when I saw her standing there. I could feel that summer job slipping right out of my hands and into Sid’s. But … that was before she ended up in the hospital. Now, who knows? Maybe someone who doesn’t hate my guts will make the decision.”

  Shea almost asked Coop then about the snake named Mariah. He’d know whether or not the snake really was harmless. Or she could always ask Sid. Even Dinah, who often stopped in the lab to visit Sid and talk to the animals.

  But she couldn’t ask any of them about it. Because if she did, who was the first person they’d suspect when the snake turned up missing? Their good friend, Shea Fallon.

  Burgers Etc. was packed with sleepy people sipping coffee, wolfing down pancakes, talking about weekend plans. Shea’s eyes scanned the long, narrow diner, wondering again what kind of face she should attach to the sinister, whispering voice. Was it a tall voice, a short voice, was it thin or fat, blonde or brunette, male or female. … ?

  The last thought startled her. She’d been thinking of the deep whisper as male. But of course it could be female. How could you tell from a whisper?

  “Feel like taking in a movie tonight?” Coop asked casually as they got up to leave.

  Oh, gee, I’d love to, she answered silently, but I’ve got a snake to steal. Aloud, she said, “Can’t, sorry. I have to … study.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he pointed out. “No classes.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t have to study,” she said sharply. Why couldn’t he just take no for an answer? Hadn’t anyone ever told him no? “I’m really behind,” she added in a milder tone. It wasn’t his fault she was such a wreck. “I need every spare moment I can find, or I’m not going to make it through finals.”