Buses and cars are arriving. I ditch the lockers, wondering if I should warn Keiko about her dog. Aidan wanders off to first period. I hide around the corner from the lockers, listening to the commotion about the balloons until Keiko herself arrives.
“Oh, wow!” she says. “You guys shouldn’t have!”
“We didn’t,” someone replies. A pause. “Who’s CJ?”
The cacophony of students swells in the hallway. Then someone says, “You’re letting them go?”
My balloons drift over the school, wrinkled and forlorn. Someone throws a rock at one. It hits, pushing the balloon into a tangle of jagged tree branches.
I can’t even look at Keiko in AP Calculus. I hate her. I pretend that it was that other CJ whose heart she broke as I slide into my seat at the back of the room. I stew in a black fog until I see Aidan in American History. I want to run away with him, to flee this joke of a school and the thing that’s stalking us. We both need to run away from home. But we’re trapped here.
Later, I text Michael.
Let’s form a patrol tonight. I have a plan.
Mom and Dad wave as I leave the house. “Tell Michael’s folks we said hi!” Mom says.
They think Michael, Leo, Judy, and I are going to Darren’s vigil at school. Michael’s old yellow Honda idles in the driveway. Leo gets out and lets me ride shotgun so he can sit with Judy. We all wear dark clothing, thick boots, and gloves. We look like a quartet of geek thugs.
Aidan has a job interview tonight. The owner of the Christmas tree farm told Dad he might pay Aidan under the table for some labor. I didn’t tell Aidan about this. He’d have freaked out for sure and begged me not to go. We don’t need any more drama than we already have. His butterflies constantly flutter around me.
Wearing fingerless gloves, Judy holds an extraordinary camera in her lap, the strap looped around her neck and under her armpit. It looks like something a war photographer would carry.
“Wow!” I say. “Check out your gear, Jay.”
“It’s my dad’s,” she says. “If we see anything, this’ll get it. I’ve used it before.” She shows it to Leo, who eyes it appreciatively. “Night vision.”
The car peels out.
Leo looks uncomfortable. Poor Leo. Can’t handle a cute punk girl flirting with him.
“You’ve got a nice dad,” I say.
Judy nods, looking out the window.
I hold my purse close, feeling through the leather the box-cutting knife I use to strip wires. My foot hits a package on the floor.
“Careful,” says Michael. “Actually, can you take those out?”
In the bag are the four heavy-duty flashlights I requested. I give one each to Leo and Judy, holding mine and Michael’s.
Leo protests. “I don’t need one. I’ve got a light app on my phone.”
Michael glowers at him in the rearview mirror. “This can double as a weapon.”
“But I don’t like violence. It makes me nervous. And we’re not going to get close enough—”
“Take it,” Michael orders.
An inane pop song leaks from the speakers of Michael’s car. I slip the blade into my right coat pocket. Michael doesn’t seem to notice. He blows his nose and focuses on the road. “So, what’s the plan again, CJ?”
“We’re going to drive the roads and familiarize ourselves with the area. Once we find the midpoint between the two dog deaths, we’ll park and go out on foot. Listen for dogs going wild. We might not see anything. And it might take hours. But it doesn’t matter. We have to try. This is the only lead we have. And we need to be patient. If it’s an animal, it’ll probably be more afraid of us than we are of it.”
“What if it’s a human?” Leo asks.
I shrug. “I dunno. Run?”
Lonesome and shadowy, Keiko’s house sits at the end of a long, rocky street with no lights. Silver Leaf Drive. Most of the streets are unlit, but the houses are at least close enough together that driveway floodlights illuminate the surrounding area. Keiko’s street wanders farther into the sticks than most. They have their share of trouble from possums and the occasional bobcat scaring Jackson, with everyone being especially careful of rattlers during the summer. But that’s it.
The Honda slips deeper into the hills, the headlights revealing not nearly enough. Judy and Leo memorize the roads, noting the turnouts and signs that read, “Private Drive—No Trespassers.” My skin crawls as I clutch the blade in my pocket, Michael’s flashlight heavy and cold in my lap.
We agree that the place where the paved road ends in the trident below Keiko’s house is the best stopping place. Michael pulls off the road and parks by the bushes. The night squeezes everything in its blind fist until we pull out the flashlights. I’m sure everyone can hear the thudding in my chest over the crickets and owls. A wind cuts through my coat sleeves as the thick clouds drift apart to reveal an almost-full moon. The scents of wet leaves, damp rocks and Leo’s antiperspirant mingle.
“This way,” I stage whisper, marching down the leg farthest from Keiko’s house. Golden Oak Road. The house at the end of this road isn’t for another half mile. The moist wind howls, scraping my face and ears. Branches crackle. Gravel crunches under our feet.
“Let’s split up,” I say. “Boy/girl. Michael, you and I will find a spot on that side of the road behind the trees. Leo, you and Judy are going to move up the road closer to the house to find a place to sit and listen. And no phone use unless it’s absolutely necessary. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
“I think it would be better if you and I go,” Leo says, trembling. Maybe from the cold. Probably from something else.
“Really?” I was trying to pair him with Judy on purpose.
“Whatever,” Michael says, impatient. “I’ll go with Judy.”
Judy looks disappointed. They take off into the brush.
A couple of weak lights peer over the drive of the house. If these people have a dog, they keep it inside. An engine rumbles in the distance but doesn’t come near us. Leo nudges me. The mouth of a path opens off the road. I nod and we head down the path.
We’re definitely trespassing. I hope no one has a shotgun.
We settle in a small clearing well away from the poison oak bushes. After half an hour, my rear end hurts from sitting on the cold, hard ground. I fidget. The tension is getting to me. A dog barks. It could be Jackson—it’s a throaty, big dog voice. I don’t pay much attention to it because dogs bark at anything. I also hope it’s not Michael and Judy getting too close to one of the houses.
It’s weird. I might have crushed on a guy like Leo about six months ago. Band geek. Comic book dork. Straight-A student. But here we are instead, sitting in the bushes on somebody’s property, waiting for the worst.
“Are you going to the winter ball?” he whispers.
“Maybe,” I reply. ”Are you?”
“I never go to those things.”
“Why not?”
He shrugs. “Girls freak me out.”
“It’s okay if you like guys,” I tell him.
“I like girls. But they make me unbelievably nervous.”
“Everything makes you nervous, Leo. You nearly wet yourself when I paired you with Judy.”
Leo looks flustered. “That one is especially dangerous.”
“Look, she’s not a chainsaw. She’s a cute, smart, talented girl. And I’m pretty sure she likes you, dummy.”
“That is precisely why I’m afraid of her.”
“Afraid of her? Or something else?”
He’s quiet a moment. Just when I hope he’s done talking, he says, “I’m afraid I’ll disappoint her.”
Oh, dear. “She’s a big girl. Let her take that risk. Maybe you’re wrong.”
A dog barks in the distance and then stops. After listening for a few moments, Leo continues. “So, who are you going to the dance with?”
“I can’t say.” Literally. I hope he doesn’t press me.
“A lot of guys have a
sked you, huh?”
“No. I don’t get asked to things like that.” I feel awash with self-pity.
“You’re kidding, right?” Leo draws in the dirt with a stick.
I shrug. “No. I’m not exactly hot, so…”
Leo eyes me with disbelief. “Are you for real? Half the guys in band like you!”
“That’s ridiculous!” I catch myself, lowering my voice. “Besides, if I’m supposedly so hot, why doesn’t Michael like me?”
The dog barks louder. Fiercer. Another dog joins in. Snarling.
“Michael’s a different story,” Leo says. “He’s—”
Savage, murderous barking.
Crap! We let ourselves get distracted. My phone buzzes. A text from Michael.
CRAZY SHIT NNE
I hear it! But what the heck is “NNE”? Ah! North by northeast. It’s easier to follow the sound than use my compass app.
“Let’s go!”
Even with our bright flashlights, the path toward the noise is treacherous. We stumble several times. The dogs’ cries crescendo into high-pitched whines of terror. As we draw closer, a chain-link fence rattles. The woods clear to reveal a kennel full of panic-stricken dogs, barking and leaping.
And then I see it climbing up the chain-link fence. Something apelike. Bigger than a chimp with a thicker, goat-like snout and ears. Shaggy slate fur.
Glowing blue eyes.
“Shit!” Leo gasps. We scramble to hide behind a big tree. Can I trust my sight? It’s dark. We press against each other. Should we run? I glance at the house. No lights on inside.
One of the creature’s legs hangs oddly from its hip. Mangled. It continues to climb.
I can’t stand here and do nothing. If these dogs die, I won’t be able to live with myself. I pop out from behind the tree, aiming the light into the creature’s eyes. “Hey! Possum killer! Leave them alone!”
The creature growls, clinging to the kennel fence. A mouth full of thorny teeth. Hands clawed like a sloth’s.
I remove the knife from my pocket and open the blade.
The creature launches itself from the fence and disappears into the forest.
“Crap!”
Leo and I spin around, breathing heavily. We stand back to back, scanning the darkness. My legs feel rubbery.
“Way to go,” Leo says bitterly.
“It’s still here. I know it. Just keep the light moving.”
The dogs jump and bark in a frenzy.
Leo shrieks.
I spin around. The creature dives at us, its bad leg hindering. Leo dodges, landing hard against a tree. I dive in the other direction and hit a different tree, gripping the light and knife for dear life. Pain sears my upper arm.
The creature lopes like an ape, walking on its forepaws. If it were to stand, it couldn’t be more than four feet tall. It bears down on me. I try to raise my arm to shine the light in its eyes, but my arm hurts too much. The creature hesitates, staring at me. Does it recognize me?
Thunk.
The creature sags. Leo has clobbered its head with his flashlight. That slows it down for a moment. I scramble to my feet as it howls with a renewed furor. I thrust the box cutter blade as it swipes at me. The blade is useless. The monster’s claws have way too great a reach. I leap out of the way.
A car horn blares, the headlights of Michael’s Honda flooding the kennel and the forest’s edge. Judy jumps out of the car and goes to ground, snapping pictures.
A sharp croak escapes the creature’s snout, its head jerking toward the car. It stops mid-swipe and flees into the forest darkness.
Leo and I dash to the car. We scramble inside and slam the doors shut.
We sit in the Denny’s, Michael and I on one side, Leo and Judy on the other. Shaking. Sipping tea. We can barely look at one another. Judy’s camera sits on the table beside her. My left upper arm hurts so badly I can barely lift it. My mind races with the implications of what we’ve seen.
“What will you do with the photos?” I ask Judy.
She hugs herself. “I want to delete them.” A tear runs down her cheek. She wipes it away. “I want to delete everything that happened tonight.”
Leo and I exchange a look. “No kidding,” Leo says. “But we’ve got to do something.”
“I’m not even sure anyone would believe those photos,” I add. “But we need to store them somewhere. Judy, you have Dropbox, right? Put them there, please, and share the link with us?”
Judy nods. I study our little group of guerrilla journalists and make a hard decision. “I want to show you guys something. It’s part of the investigation into Darren’s death. Detective Bristow told me to keep it a secret. So, please don’t tell a soul. I’ll be incredibly busted if they find out I showed you.”
Michael looks pissed. “You’ve been holding out on us?”
“I’ve been obeying a direct order from law enforcement. I live with the law, remember?”
Michael nods. “Ah, yes. Please continue.”
I remove my phone from my purse, hands shaking. “I took this photo because I didn’t think anyone would believe me when I found the body. It’s given me nightmares ever since.”
“You’re the one?” Leo says with awe. “There were rumors, but your name’s never come up.”
Judy gives me a look of pity. Michael crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow.
I bring up the image on my phone that’s haunted me until now. I hand the phone to Michael, and he passes it around.
“This is beyond intense,” Michael says.
“I don’t know what that thing was doing under the bleachers, but it surprised Darren, I think. Maybe Darren hurt its leg in the struggle. But those claws…” I can’t continue. We all saw the claws—some of us better than others.
“But why was Darren hanging out behind the bleachers?” Judy asks. “It’s so random.”
“He was going to buy drugs from my brother’s friends, but they stood him up,” I respond. “The cops brought my brother in for questioning because he was one of the last people texting with Darren. He’s no longer a person of interest. And that’s fair because, I mean, you can see those eyes in the photo.”
Leo shakes his head. “So Darren was a druggie, too. Figures. Freaking hypocrite.”
Silence settles on the table. It’s Judy who eventually breaks it. “What are we going to do?”
“We might not have to do anything,” I say. “With all the gun-happy rednecks in this county? Someone is bound to kill it just because it’s the wrong color.” Wouldn’t be the first time in history.
“It was a creature, right? Not a deformed person?” Leo asks. “I mean, it looked like a creature to me, anyway.” Leo looks embarrassed. “I can’t believe I hit it. I’ve never hit anything in my life.”
“Well, that was the perfect time to start!” I reply. “Thanks, Leo. You saved my life.”
Leo glows with the first hint of pride I’ve ever seen in him. He waves a hand at me as if to say, It was nothing.
“We should go to the cops,” Judy says. Everyone looks at her like she’s an idiot. “What? They’ve got guns. Right? Or maybe they can capture this thing.”
“Sure. And what will we say? That we’re trespassing and stalking people’s dogs?” Michael asks.
“We could lie,” she counters. “We could tell them we were out for a night walk and we heard all this barking.”
“Would they believe that’s what we were doing?” I ask. “That would put all four of us on their radar. Right now, I’m the only one involved with the police. I don’t want you guys to be in any trouble. I totally understand if telling the cops makes you feel safer, but I’m telling you that it’s a trade-off.”
Michael finishes his tea. “Like I said, I don’t trust those meatballs with badges. And this,” he hands me back my phone. “This freaky monster movie stuff is way above their pay grade. I vote we keep quiet, keep our eyes open.”
“And be better prepared for the next run,” I say.
“But you know what we need next time?” Michael says. “A gun.”
“No way,” I say. “What we need is a better plan.”
“And a gun?” Judy says hopefully.
“The Doctor doesn’t use violence. And neither will we. Now that we’ve seen this thing, I think we can outsmart it.”
“The Doctor?” Judy asks.
“The main character in Doctor Who. Don’t you watch BBC America?”
She scrunches her face. “I don’t watch TV.”
“Neither do I. Except BBC. I mean, British TV doesn’t count, does it? And Big Bang Theory.”
Everybody nods.
“Anyway, we don’t have to hunt this thing. We can make a trap and take it alive. If it’s hurt, it’s going to be easier to catch.”
Michael waves away the waiter. “You’re the engineering genius. If you think you can build a monster trap, I’ll listen to you. But I’m telling you, we should all get our nunchuk skills up to snuff, my friends. I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”
Chapter 14
I tell Mom that I was shoved against a building corner by some rambunctious kids. She ices my arm and gives me ibuprofen.
“If it gets worse, let me know. You’ll need to see the doctor.” She folds her arms in that badass pose she does so well. “Are those kids still bullying you?”
I shake my head. I’m not lying. The texts have stopped. Everyone is probably more wrapped up in the drama around Darren’s death than with me. “No. This was just an accident.”
She eyes me suspiciously but cuts the line of inquiry. “Well, try to be quiet up there. Aidan and your brother are already in bed.”
“How did Aidan do?”
“That kid could charm a shark. Dad says he had Mr. Daniels at hello, he was so polite. Or should I say at ‘Good evening, Mr. Daniels.’” Her imitation is spot on.
I throw my good arm around her, I’m so happy. “He’s going to be great. You’ll see.”
She hugs me back. “I love you so much, my Little River.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
If only I really were a time-traveling, regenerating, archaeological badass.
Snowed (The Bloodline of Yule Trilogy Book 1) Page 8
