Moby Clique

by Cara Lockwood

  Heathcliff is first into the water and I slip my feet in after. It’s freezing cold and sends a shock through my body even as my Converse get soaked.

  “Oh my God, that’s cold!” Samir shouts behind me. “Why didn’t someone tell me about the cold?”

  Parker and Ryan hesitate a few more seconds on the shore. But when it becomes clear the dogs are getting closer, even they wade into the water.

  I walk a few steps, pulling on the rope as I go, sticking close to Heathcliff. So far, the water doesn’t seem so deep here, and it laps just above my ankles. The rocks are slippery, but so far I’ve managed not to fall.

  “Maybe this isn’t going to be so bad,” I say.

  Heathcliff glances back at me, a crooked smile on his face. This makes me think I’ve spoken too soon. The barking is getting louder. Heathcliff moves a little faster and so do I.

  Behind us, I hear Parker mumbling her complaints, and a quick glance back and I see that Ryan isn’t very happy, either. Samir is looking at the water with trepidation.

  “We’re halfway there,” I shout back, trying to give them some encouragement. And it’s true, we are. Twenty more feet and we’re home free.

  That’s when ahead of me the water abruptly rises almost up to Heathcliff’s waist. I wonder if he’s fallen, but it occurs to me that he hasn’t. The water has just gotten suddenly and decidedly deeper. I stop, but Blade is right behind me, and she bumps into me and sends me over into the deep.

  “Aaaah!” I shout, as I plunge into the water next, the ground suddenly giving way, and the water rising to my chest. Heathcliff is much taller than I am. The water is freezing, and it’s a lot harder to walk in the strong current when most of your body is under water.

  “Whoa, sorry,” Blade says, jumping in after me. Hana follows her, but Samir stops in his tracks.

  “Oh no, no way,” Samir says, shaking his head. “I’m not going in like that.”

  A dog appears on the shore where we came from, snarling and snapping its jaws. A second and third join him, and they sniff at the water and bark at us. None of them follow us in, though.

  “We can’t stop now,” Ryan says. He’s the last in the line and just ten or so feet from the dogs.

  “Yeah, move it!” Parker shouts. “What’s the holdup?” Parker’s in a frenzy now that the dogs are close, and one or two of them seem to be contemplating jumping into the water after us. She gives Samir a hard shove and he falls forward, losing his footing. Suddenly, he’s swept up by the current and is on the surface of the water, struggling to get control. The only thing keeping him from being swept downriver is his backpack, which is still hooked securely to the rope.

  “If you don’t move, I’m going to have to make you go,” Parker says, and starts fiddling with Samir’s backpack.

  It’s evident to all of us at once that Parker plans to cut Samir free. And since he can’t swim, he’ll most certainly drown.

  “Parker! What are you doing?” says a desperate Samir, even as Parker manages to unhook Samir’s backpack. Now he’s simply holding on to the rope without a safety line. “Parker! Please!”

  “Parker! Stop it!” Hana shouts as she tries to intervene.

  “Leave him alone,” Blade seconds, throwing her hands into the mix.

  But Parker is determined, and as we watch, she starts to pry Samir’s fingers off the rope.

  “Look out! One of them is coming in!” Ryan shouts, drawing my attention away from Samir, and I turn to the beach just in time to see that one of the dogs has taken a few steps back from shore. Then he hunches down, his muscles tense and ready to leap. And just as suddenly, the dog springs into the water and heads straight for Ryan.

  Fifteen

  “Come on!” I shout to Samir. “We’ve got to move!”

  “We are!” Blade says, and she and Hana working together somehow manage to get Samir on his feet again, no thanks to Parker, who was two fingers away from sending him to a watery grave.

  Once Samir is moving again, Parker and Ryan leap forward into the deeper part of the river, just in time. The dog quickly finds itself in deeper water with a stronger current. It starts paddling, but the water is too swift, and he’s quickly flung downstream.

  Seconds later, Heathcliff lands on the opposite shore and pulls me out. The rest follow us, and we all stand, panting and dripping wet, watching the two remaining dogs bark and howl on the other side of the river. Neither of them will follow us, I’m pretty sure.

  Samir’s teeth are chattering, in part from the cold, and partly because he nearly drowned, and I throw my arm around him and give him a hug to try to help warm him up.

  Parker shrugs off her jacket nonchalantly and wrings the water out of it.

  “My shoes are ruined thanks to you,” Parker says, glaring at me. I can’t believe my ears. She nearly killed one of our friends and all she cares about is her shoes.

  “Your shoes! Who gives a shit about your shoes?” Blade shouts, angrier than I’ve ever seen her.

  “They’re Burberry, and worth more than your life,” Parker hisses.

  Blade, who is fuming, steps right into Parker’s face.

  “You nearly killed him,” she grinds out, pointing to Samir, who’s still a little pale from the experience. “You knew he can’t swim. What was he going to do if you pulled him off that rope?”

  “It’s not my problem,” Parker snaps.

  “Well, I’m about to make it your problem,” Blade says, and shoves Parker hard in the chest, sending her flying backward into the mud. Parker scrambles up, murder in her eyes, and charges for Blade, who is braced for impact and a good fight. All of us stare, slack-jawed, except for Ryan, who steps quickly into Parker’s path.

  “That’s enough,” he says, catching her before she makes contact with Blade. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Oh, I have time, believe me,” Blade says, still furious.

  “We’re losing daylight, and we need to find Lindsay,” Ryan says. “Save the grudges for when we’re back on campus, okay?”

  Blade glances at me, and then back at Parker. “Fine,” she says, but she doesn’t like it.

  “Whatever.” Parker shrugs.

  “Now,” Heathcliff says, “we head east.”

  He turns and leads us in the right direction, taking us deeper into the forest than I’ve ever been. The forest is thick and overgrown, and the farther we walk, the denser the trees and brush seem to get. At one point, I can’t even really see much of the sky through the tall branches above our heads. My wet clothes hang heavily on my back, as we walk for what seems like forever. I don’t know how long we trudge through the forest, but after a while, even my clothes are mostly dry. My shoes, however, are a different story. I feel something gross and squishy between my toes, and I don’t know if it’s my sopping wet socks or mud or what.

  Blade is in front of me now and Parker’s behind. Hana and Samir and I are in between them to prevent any more fights, although I wouldn’t have minded seeing Blade teach Parker a lesson. Parker, for her part, will not shut up. She’s tired, or her feet hurt, or she doesn’t think we’re going in the right direction. Or she’s thirsty. Or hungry. Or cold. I’m so annoyed by Parker’s running commentary that I don’t even notice when we hit a particularly muddy patch. My right foot sinks into a foot of sludge.

  I tug hard to get it out, but Heathcliff is there with strong hands to lift me straight out of the mire and onto relatively drier ground.

  “Careful,” he says. For a second, I’m sucked into his dark eyes. “Here, let me take this,” he adds, grabbing my backpack and putting it over his shoulder. My back feels so much better freed of the weight. I smile at him in relief. He returns the smile, and I’m amazed how much different his face looks when he smiles. He’s not quite so dark and brooding, even though he still looks a little bit dangerous. Heathcliff always manages to look dangerous.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Heathcliff asks me, eyes now serious. “You know, I could find her f
or you. You know I’d do that for you.”

  I look at him and I know it’s true. At that moment, I’m pretty sure he’d do almost anything I asked of him. That knowledge gives me a little rush.

  “I know, but this is something I have to do,” I say. “She’s my sister.”

  Heathcliff nods.

  The moment between us is broken by the sound of Parker’s voice somewhere behind me.

  “This is, like, totally gross,” she whines.

  “What? Can’t quite walk in those expensive shoes of yours?” Hana asks her.

  “Shut up,” Parker spits. “Agggh. Ryan! Help!” Parker loses both flats in the mud. Ryan slumps his shoulders and turns back to help Parker. Heathcliff, for his part, doesn’t even slow down.

  “Maybe you ought to consider Doc Martens,” Blade says as she walks easily past the stuck Parker, clomping through the mud in her lace-up, thick-soled boots. On her way by, she gives Parker a little nudge and sends her buttfirst into the mud. She lands with a squishy sound and nearly sputters with rage. Ryan, however, keeps her from charging Blade and manages to calm her down enough not to fight. I have to hide a smile, though. Parker’s little plaid mini is covered in gray sludge, as are her white leggings. I’ve never seen her look so bad, and I have to admit that I’m enjoying every minute.

  “Do you notice something weird about this place?” Hana whispers in my ear as we trudge through the undergrowth.

  “You mean aside from the fact that Samir is holding on to my backpack like we’re on a kindergarten field trip?” Blade asks.

  “I don’t want to get lost, okay?” Samir says, letting go of Blade’s strap.

  “I mean, have you guys seen a squirrel? Or a chipmunk? Or a bird?” Hana asks us. I realize she’s right. I haven’t seen a single animal since we left campus, except for the attack dogs. No birds. No squirrels. Nothing. The only sounds in the forest are the wind in the trees and our footsteps.

  A cold wind blows and I shudder suddenly. The creepy mood is broken by the whiney voice of Parker.

  “This is disgusting!” Parker shouts, somewhere behind us. “This mud is never going to come out.”

  “Looks like homicidal homecoming queens are the only animal species making any noise around here,” Blade says.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird? I mean, there should be chipmunks or something,” Hana says. “I’ve never been in woods that are this quiet.”

  “Hey, look, there’s a bird, I think,” Samir says, pointing toward a small break in the brush, where I can see a slash of blue. Maybe it is a bird. He pushes through, then jumps ahead of both me and Heathcliff. “Yeah, I think it is…”

  He pushes through the brush toward the bright blue feathers, but then freezes in his tracks.

  “Aggggh!” Samir backs away from his find. “Not a bird. NOT a bird!” he stutters, backing straight into Heathcliff and stumbling over his feet.

  I move closer to see what he’s looking at, and see a bright headdress of blue and yellow feathers. Peering out from beneath it are the two empty eye sockets of a human skull.

  Sixteen

  The skull has been bleached white by the sun and is sitting on top of a pole with the elaborate, Indian-like headdress placed on its head. And it’s not alone. There are two others, with smaller head-dresses, posted nearby. They seem to be guarding a small clearing.

  “An Indian burial ground,” Blade says, excitement in her voice as she pushes her way past us, walking straight by the skulls. My Goth friend is totally unfazed by skulls. Last year, she used to have a skull candle on her desk. “This is so cool,” she exclaims, like a seven-year-old on Christmas morning. “We could totally be cursed right now.”

  “Only you would think Indian curses are cool,” Hana says.

  “Indian burial ground? Are you serious?” Samir asks, suddenly more anxious than usual. “Okay, nothing good ever happens on Indian burial grounds. Poltergeist? Pet Sematary? Anybody?”

  I follow Blade into the clearing with Heathcliff not far behind me.

  “Talk about anorexic,” I hear Parker say behind us as she and Ryan see the skulls for the first time.

  “Okay, guys? Why are you walking on the Indian burial ground?” Samir asks us as we explore. “Why aren’t we running away? Am I the only one who ever watches horror movies? Seriously.”

  “Whoa, check this out!” Blade says, walking up to a kind of shrine, which looks a little like a totem poll, except it’s made mostly of skulls.

  “Do you know what it means?” Hana asks Blade.

  “It means we should get the heck out of here, that’s what it means,” Samir says.

  “What are you, scared?” Parker sniffs. She walks straight up to the totem shrine and just plucks a skull right off the top of the stack. “Of this?”

  It figures that Parker would show no squeamishness when it comes to human bones. Given the rumors about why she got sent to Bard, it’s no wonder that she’s fine with having a Hamlet moment, with a skull in one hand and the other on her hip. She looks like she’s about to deliver a soliloquy.

  “Put that down,” Blade tells Parker.

  “Who’s going to make me?” she asks. “You?”

  “It’s got to be bad luck,” Samir points out.

  “I don’t believe in luck,” Parker says, tossing the skull carelessly to the ground. Upon impact, the jaw breaks off. Blade sends her a death stare, but Parker’s already moved on.

  “Vandalizing an Indian burial ground, nice move,” Samir says.

  “Guys, this burial ground has been here a long while,” Hana says. “It’s more than five hundred years old.”

  She points to a stone marker. It’s engraved in Spanish.

  “Can you translate?” I ask her.

  “Yeah,” she says, and reads aloud.

  SACRED GROUND,

  CONSECRATED THIS YEAR OF OUR LORD, 1414,

  IN HONOR OF THE DEAD WHO WALK AMONG US.

  “I thought Columbus didn’t discover America until 1492,” Samir says, scratching his head and staring at the marker.

  “More importantly, what do they mean by the ‘dead who walk among us’?” Ryan asks.

  I glance at Hana, Blade, and Samir. We know what they mean. Of course, neither Ryan nor Parker know about our famous ghost teachers.

  But 1414? That’s a long time before any of the teachers got here, that I know anyway. Interesting. I glance at Hana and can tell she’s thinking the same thing. Most of the ghosts on campus arrived there in the nineteenth century or later, with a few exceptions. But none of them died in the 1400s.

  “It’s probably fake,” Parker says, kicking the stone with one toe of her muddy shoe. The girl has no respect for anything, except Prada.

  “It’s real enough,” Heathcliff says, speaking for the first time. “This island holds a lot of secrets.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Parker asks, but Heathcliff doesn’t answer. He just falls silent as he stares at the ground.

  “Footprints,” he says. “Fresh ones.”

  I look where he’s looking and see tracks in the shape of my Steve Madden loafers, the ones that Lindsay stole from me. At least, they’ve got the same heart-shaped sole and the Steve Madden logo on the heel.

  “Those are Lindsay’s!” I say. “She’s been all over here.”

  “And she’s not the only one,” Hana says, pointing to another set of tracks. These are bigger, and some of them look like bare feet.

  Heathcliff kneels down to study them.

  “There was a struggle,” he says, pointing to scuff marks in the mud. “I think these men took Lindsay.”

  I look down and it seems like Heathcliff is right. Lindsay’s prints disappear right at the edge of the burial ground. And then it’s just the larger footprints from then on.

  “Maybe the ghost Indians got her,” Samir says. We all stare at him as if he’s insane. “What? Am I the only one with cable TV? I mean, seriously.”

  “Ghosts don’t leave footprints, Sami
r,” Blade says, as if pointing out the obvious.

  “That’s not true. Ms. W does,” Samir says.

  “What did you say?” Ryan asks Samir.

  “What are you talking about?” Parker chimes in.

  Samir quickly backtracks. “Um, nothing. I mean, bad joke.”

  “Since when do you ever tell a good joke?” Blade pokes Samir in the ribs.

  “What happened to my sister? Can you tell?” I turn to Heathcliff. I have a sudden flash of Lindsay being bound and gagged like the student we saw in the woods being carried off by the pirates, or whatever it was we saw last night. A cold chill slinks down my spine. I hope nothing bad has happened to her.

  “They got her here,” Heathcliff says, pointing to the mud. “And I think they carried her off in that direction.”

  “You think it was the people we saw before?” I ask him. He nods.

  “You’re saying she was kidnapped? That’s absurd,” Parker says, appearing between Heathcliff and me. “Who would take a Bard student? Especially out here. This island is deserted.”

  “No it isn’t,” I say. “We saw a gang take a Bard student just last night.”

  “Even better, they were pirates,” Blade adds.

  “Pirates?” Parker echoes, suddenly becoming serious. Instead of scoffing, she seems to actually believe us.

  “What do you know?” I ask her, thinking that maybe she’s seen them, too.

  “Nothing,” Parker shrugs. “Rumors. Ghost stories.”

  “What stories?” I demand. But before Parker can answer, I hear a steady rumble in the distance. At first I think it might be thunder, but it’s got a rhythmic quality, too steady to be thunder.

  “Guys? Do you hear that?” Samir asks quietly.

  “Hear what?” Parker snaps, but even as the words leave her mouth, her mouth goes slack. She hears it, too.

  “Drums,” Hana whispers.

  “Awesome,” Blade breathes. “Do you think they’re cannibals?”

  “Shut up,” Parker hisses, but I can tell she’s scared. Just like the rest of us. It’s hard to keep your composure with the strong, steady beat of drums in the distance. It doesn’t help that the sun is setting. It’ll be dark soon.