by Nigel Henry
“Whatever,” he shoots back. “Like you’re not going to fawn over Mr. Foster later.”
They keep this up for a bit until Ms. Birch greets us with a very cheery: “Good morning, everyone. I hope your summers were particularly eventful.”
“Mine wasn’t,” Will pouts. “I had to volunteer with the Canoe Club.”
“I think that’s actually pretty great, Will,” Birch replies. She then looks at me and smiles. “I see we’ve got some new faces in here this year. I guess I’ll get started with roll call.”
My heart drops down into my stomach as she picks up the roster and starts calling off names. “Will Archer” is the first to get his name called, followed by a Butler, a Diaz, and others. Ariana raises her hand to “Ariana de Los Santos,” and I brace myself.
Don’t do it, I plead silently.
“Mariah Miller?”
I drop my head to the desk as I raise my hand. “Just Ria, please.”
Ms. Birch is smiling at me when I finally look up. “Mariah? That’s such a pretty name! Like the singer? Hero was my song when I was a little girl.”
I can’t hold back the groan. Old people, my mother especially, love telling me that Mariah was a fantastic performer and a talented voice and all that. But now she’s the lady that played her own music when her kids were born and screwed up that one New Year's Eve. I do not want to share a name with her.
“So that’s what Ria’s short for,” Ariana beams as Birch moves on to the next name.
I give her a glare I usually reserve for monsters. “If you ever call me that, I will end you.”
That wipes the smile from her face as Birch then dives into what we can expect this marking period. I only slightly pay attention. The rest of my mind turns back to those missing kids. I need to find someone that knew them. Maybe then I can figure out what they all have in common. If I can do that, then I might have a shot at figuring out what took them.
That’s me, solving mysteries and saving lives. Who’s the real hero, Mariah?
The bell rings, bringing an end to biology. Everyone shuffles up to leave, and Ariana's already grabbing me by the hand. "You've got calculus, right? Come on!"
Jesus, I think I may have made the wrong friends. "Are you actually in a rush to get to calculus?"
"She's in a rush to see Mr. Foster, the math teacher," Will chimes in.
"So? He's cute," Ariana admits.
I follow along as they lead me down a stairwell, and I decide to take a chance. "Hey, what's the deal with the pictures of the kids in the office?"
"What kids?" Will asks.
"The ones under the banner. Did they die or something?"
Ariana slows and her smile fades. "What?" I ask. "Did something happen?"
"I don't want to talk about it," she says before shuffling ahead. I stare, dumbfounded.
"That's a touchy subject for her," Will says. "She was friends with one of them."
Bingo. Something I can use. "Oh. What happened?"
"No one knows. They just disappeared."
The bell rings and Will picks up the pace. "Come on, we don't want to be late on the first day."
We get to the next room. This one is set up like your standard classroom, with six rows of four desks set facing the teacher. Ariana's in the third row and she saved us two seats. Unfortunately, every other seat is filled. Looks like we're late.
"Ah, Mr. Archer. Thanks for joining us."
The teacher is sitting at a desk in the front of the class, his brown slacks up on the desk and his hands cradling his head. Ariana's right: he is handsome, with ear-length brown hair that parts at the front and complements his brown eyes. He's wearing a white dress shirt with the top unbuttoned and he's smiling at Will, which shows off his dimples. Maybe calculus won't be that bad.
"Sorry, Mr. Foster," Will stammers.
"It's okay, I know you're good for it. Have a seat."
Will heads next to Ariana. I follow. "Not so fast," he says to me. I freeze and turn around.
"Mr. Archer, I know. You, I don't. Are you a new student?"
I nod, wanting to fall into a hole. He smiles. "What's your name?"
"Ria Miller, sir."
He picks up the roster. "I don't see a Ria anywhere. Let's try last names..." He thumbs his finger down the list. "Ah, Miller. Ma—"
"Just Ria, please," I say, feeling everyone's eyes on me.
He nods and smiles. "Ah, not a fan of your full name? Have it your way. But here's the deal, Ms. Miller: show up late to class again and you'll be writing your name on that board in big block letters."
Point taken. "It won't happen again, Mr. Foster."
"Good. Have a seat."
I slink down into my chair, wishing I'd let that troll eat me so I wouldn't have to deal with everyone staring at me. Mr. Foster starts blaring on about quadratic equations as Ariana leans in. "Isn't he the cutest?"
"Totally," I say as I roll my eyes and open my binder.
THREE
I LUCK out and only hear my name called three more times during the first day. Though once is by the school principal, and it's never a good thing when the principal knows who you are while you’re trying to sniff out some kind of hidden creature.
My luck in finding more info on the missing kids isn’t as good. I guess it was too much to hope that I could wrap this whole thing up quickly.
I decide I'm done thinking about the disappearances when I get home that evening, and I yawn as I drop my bag a few steps after the front door and collapse on the couch. Dad doesn’t leave the Chronicle till five-thirty and Mom leaves whenever Mr. Bannerman decides to stop being a jerk for the day, so I’ve got a few hours to kill. Thankfully my phone is fully charged and I’ve got several levels of Fruit Crush to destroy.
You’ve gotta enjoy the little things in life, you know?
I’m just past level one-fifty when my phone starts ringing. It’s Dad. “Hello?” I say as I give the house a quick scan. I don’t see any overflowing trash cans or dishes in the sink.
“Hey, how was the first day?” he asks.
“Oh you know, the usual. I got first-named.”
“Ouch.”
“I know, right?”
“Did you find out anything about the students?”
“Only that they’re students at my school. Did I mention this building has three schools?”
“Oh, I knew that.”
I lean up. “You conveniently left that detail out.”
“We offered you a car, sweetie. You would’ve agreed to go to clown college and you know it.”
Damn it, he’s got a point. Doesn’t mean I’m going to let him know it. “What’s up?”
“A job, actually.”
That gets my attention. “What’s the deal?”
“A revenant’s bothering some folks back in Manhattan. Your mother’s on the way to get you. Can you pack up the usual supplies?”
“On it. See you soon.” I end the call and make my way up two flights of stairs to the attic. The top step opens up into what I like to call our version of the Batcave. We store all of our gear here. Machetes, salt, holy water, prayer books, extra salt-shots, even a sword or two. I grab the basics for a revenant job: crowbars, salt, prayer book, gasoline, matches and a lighter.
Once I’m ready I head down into my room and change into an all-black outfit. Leather pants, a black t-shirt, my leather jacket and my Doc Martens. I’m just strapping my pouch belt across my chest when I hear the car horn out front. That sends me back to the attic to make sure I didn’t forget anything important before I head out to meet Mom.
She gives me a hug as I get in their new car, a black Prius. “Every thing’s packed?”
“Yup.”
“Good,” she says as she pulls away and heads toward the highway. “How was school?”
“You guys didn’t tell me I was going to a metal detector school.”
“Honey, this whole thing was your father’s idea. I just wanted to give you the Honda. He was th
e one who came up with everything else.”
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time he offers me anything.” I flick on the radio and flip through stations. I turn it off when an Iggy Azaelea song comes on. I’ve got enough monsters to deal with in my actual life without having to listen to her try to rap.
“So where are we going?” I ask after we exit the Williamsburg bridge and get on the FDR drive. “All Dad said was that this revenant was messing with some people in Manhattan.”
“Washington Heights,” Mom replies. “There’s a nursing home there. Far as he told me, the seniors in the building have been seeing one of the former residents. The staff didn’t think it was anything until one of the nurses saw him, too.”
“So it’s a standard ghost job then? Find the revenant’s belongings, torch them and go home happy?”
“That’d be the plan.”
It’s almost always the plan. For the most part, revenant hunts are pretty easy. The ghosts are still here because a part of their body, and as such, their spirit, is still hanging around. Usually, it’s a lock of hair in a hairbrush or a toenail in a favorite pair of shoes. If you can find the item, salt and burn it, the ghost normally goes away. The job only gets hard when you can’t find the actual item keeping the ghost here. That's what made the Staten Island job such a pain in the ass.
I'm trying my best to keep from thinking about Staten Island as we get off the highway and pull up next to an absolutely massive yellow brick building that sits behind a down-sloping driveway. Ambulances are parked all around it, and I think it's a hospital until I see the big silver sign out front: Mariella Nursing Home.
Dad's already there waiting for us when we arrive, and he's dressed for work in dark black jeans, a black t-shirt and, you guessed it, a black leather jacket.
He's got company in the form of a tall white guy standing next to him. The man's wearing a blue sports coat, blue jeans and work boots. He's got a skull cap covering his head, but I'd recognize the workman face of Inspector Steven Perkins anywhere. Perkins is the head of an NYPD precinct here in Manhattan, and he's our go-to for news on the evil, the supernatural, and the plain messed-up.
"Evening, Steve," Mom says as she exits the car. They exchange a quick hug and he waves to me.
"Good to see you again, Ria. You're looking more grown-up every day."
I wave back and glance at a street sign to figure out where I am. I spot one and my face falls. One-ninety street. We're only twenty blocks from my school. Last thing I want is to be outed as a monster hunter on my first day.
"Good to see you too," I say back. "Now can we please go inside?"
"What, you don't want to hear about the case before you get started?" Perkins asks.
"Oh, leave her alone," Mom says. "She's just worried that someone from her school will see her."
"Mom!"
"Well, you shouldn't be so obvious."
"Calm down, sweetie," Dad says. "This will only take a minute. Go ahead, Steve."
I cross my arms. "What is there to know? It's a revenant. Burn its stuff and everyone sleeps easy."
My father crosses his arms. "Fine, then you go and unload the gear from the car while we get up to speed."
I fight the urge to roll my eyes again as I trudge over to the back of the car and pop the trunk. Dad always wants to hear every single little aspect about these revenants. I think that just wastes time. Just let me near the sucker with some salt and a match and I'll have the whole thing wrapped up before you can say "ghost-s'more."
"Ria?"
I freeze and look up from the trunk and see Will and Ariana staring at me from the sidewalk. Of course...
"Uh, hi guys," I say as I drop the duffel back into the trunk.
"What are you doing here?" Ariana asks. "I thought you lived in Brooklyn."
"It's... uh... my Dad! Yeah, he's a reporter and I'm tagging along with him for a story. What are you guys doing here?"
"We're going to go hang out in Inwood Park." Will answers.
"This late?"
"Yeah, the sunset is pretty great and it's low tide, so you can see ducks walking around the marsh." Will then runs is his eyes up and down my body. "What's with the outfit? You a biker chick or something?"
"What? No, this is..." Shit. Really wishing my parents had warned me that we were working a case so close to school.
"Ria? What's taking so long?"
Oh, no! If it was possible, I'm pretty sure my face would be beet red as my father walks over. Talk about going from bad to worse.
"Oh, hello," he says as he notices Will and Ariana.
"Uh, Dad, these are some friends from school," I stammer. "This is Ariana, and this is Will. Guys, this is my dad."
"Oh, Ariana!" Dad says. "Like the singer? Ria's mother and I love that song—"
"Haha okay bye guys great seeing you," I say as I pick up the duffel and push Dad back toward the nursing home. My eyes are shooting daggers at him the whole time.
"What?” he says. "Don't tell me that you can handle fighting a revenant but the idea of your father talking to your new friends is scary."
"A revenant can't ruin my social life on my first day," I hiss back.
FOUR
AS EXPECTED, the revenant was no big deal. It was just some little old man who hadn't quite realized it was time to move on. Nothing some salt and a little bit of fire couldn't solve.
The evening gave me the chance to talk to Inspector Perkins and get a few more details about the missing students. It turns out they were all the best of the best: one was a track star, another the student body president, the third a member of the debate team. None of them had even a ticket for jumping a subway turnstile, let alone a criminal record. They all went missing at different times of the year, and cops weren't able to figure out any kind of pattern.
So as usual, it was my turn to step in and figure out what was going on. To do that, I'd have to get info from the people who knew them, starting with Ariana. I just need to get her to trust me enough to talk without shutting down. And that's what's on my mind the next morning as I bring the Honda into a parking spot a few blocks south of the school building.
"Okay, you're officially a badass."
Will's awed voice sounds from outside the car, and I try not to smirk as I get out. Damn, it feels good to have your own car.
"Morning Will. Where's your other half?"
"Ariana? It's nothing like that." His face blushes adorably. So he's single. Noted.
"Anyway," he says, clearly trying to change the subject, "how was the story?"
"What?"
"You said you were helping your dad with a story last night. How did it go?"
"Oh, that. It was... explosive. Come on, let's go get inside before Mr. Foster thinks up some terrible new torture for me."
Ariana's already waiting in line by the time we get in and she and Will fall into a bunch of random chatter about something or other. I spend the time trying to figure out how to get a knife through the metal detectors.
Day two at Tech is different than the first. For one, all of the teachers are over their introductions, so today we're getting down to work. It takes me halfway through my first reading of the Iliad to see that teachers aren't messing around. I might get a good education here. You know, if I don't die trying to figure out what's snatching up students.
While English class was a bore, Bio actually turned out to not be that bad. Ms. Birch spent the class going on about the respiratory systems of mammals, and would you believe that's my specialty? Yep, it turns out that a troll's lungs aren't that different from a person's. So if you've stabbed one thing, you've stabbed them all.
Still, I'm relieved when the bell rings, signaling the end of class. I'm the first one up and headed out the door when Ms. Birch calls for me.
"Ria, wait."
I stop, holding my backpack in my arms as Ariana and Will move past me.
"That was some good work today," Birch says. "You've got a real knack for anatomy."
"Thanks," I say, keeping an eye on my watch. No way I'm going to be late to Foster's class again. "My parents took me to museums a lot when I was a kid."
"Do you like museums?"
I shrug. "I guess."
"I only ask because I run an afterschool biology club and we try to hit up each of the major museums in the city. You should totally join."
I guess I must have looked at her as if she had three heads because she laughs. "I know, I know, science club. But it's a lot of fun, and I promise that no harm will befall your reputation."
She heads back to her desk. "Just think about it, will you?"
"I will," I lie. I'm not actually going to think about joining science club because why? Still, that seems to be enough for her, because she smiles as I head out.
"YOU'RE JOINING SCIENCE CLUB!" Will exclaims. "Are you insane?"
I scowl as I follow Will and Ariana down the hilly road that leads to Inwood Park. I agreed to go with them after class, and I might have let Birch's offer slip. Seriously regretting that now.
"Why is everyone so worried about my social life?" I say. "And anyway, I didn't say I was doing it, I said Birch offered it to me."
"Don't listen to him," Ariana says. "I was in science club last year and it was great. Ms. Birch makes it a lot of fun."
"Yeah, and look at you now," Will shoots back. "I'm practically your only cool friend."
Ariana joins me in scowling at Will when he sweeps his hands forward grandly. "We've arrived."
Inwood Park sits at the end of the last street in Manhattan, just past some apartments and a rinky dink little college football stadium. It's pretty big, with a large lawn that's bordered by the top of what I guess is the Hudson River. There's a bridge in the background, but I've got no clue which one. Beyond the lawn is what looks like a forest. In Manhattan. I'm not kidding. This place is like some kind of fantasy land.
"It's beautiful," I marvel.
"Bet they don't have this in Brooklyn," Will says.
"They do, but the water is green."
"This way," Ariana says, leading to the woods. "There's a lookout point at the top where you can see for miles."
