by Lisa Roecker
I looked up at Seth.
“So? Can you believe it?” he asked, excitedly.
“Which part? That you’re still talking to ConspiracyLuvR or that secret societies exist?”
“Geez, you’re a slow reader!”
He pointed at a paragraph in the middle of the next page, so I read it aloud.
My recent research on the Sisterhood leads me to believe that they might be made up exclusively of females…
“Um…duh. It’s called the Sisterhood, jackass.”
“Keep reading!”
There is another secret society active within the area known as the Brotherhood. In the early ’50s, many of the area’s most elite private schools went coed, and I think this might have forced small, militant sections of the faculty and student body of many area schools underground. These two societies have been warring since their inception in the early ’50s…
“B is for Brotherhood,” I said, putting the pieces together. “So clearly the invitation was for some kind of initiation at the chapel.” I didn’t even stop to think about the fact that I had been invited to join on the night of Spiritus. “But why was Alistair there? Doesn’t sound like the Brotherhood and the Sisterhood get along too well.”
Seth wrinkled his forehead. “What’re you talking about?”
I held my hand up in front of Seth’s face. I couldn’t focus on his question right now; I was trying to work through some of my own. “This makes perfect sense. Taylor, Bethany, Maddie, Grace, Alistair—they are all involved. Sisterhood, Brotherhood, whatever. They were there. They had a hand in this. I still don’t get why they all would have been there together, though.”
“Wait. How do you know Taylor, Bethany, Maddie, and Alistair are involved?”
I told him the entire story about Liam. Seth’s mouth hung open as the words tumbled out of my mouth.
“Are you sure we can trust him? If he’s telling us the truth, that means he was there the night of Grace’s death too.”
“That’s exactly what Bethany said. It was her word against his, and who would believe the guy who had charges of arson on his permanent record? Plus they all saw him smoking. But I trust him, and I think he can help us.”
Seth looked like a child forced to share his favorite toy.
“He’s telling the truth,” I continued. “And he actually has some good ideas. He thinks that Taylor and Alistair are at war. And your friend ConspiracyLuvR just backed him up. Whatever happened to Grace, she was caught in the crossfire somehow. All we need is proof, and Liam says he can help us find it…” I let my voice trail off and gave Seth my most pleading look.
“Oh, no. Not again. We are not going back to those abandoned buildings. We’ll get caught for sure.”
“Come on, you know we’ll be fine as long as we go at night. And he didn’t go into much detail over the phone. He was worried about the line being tapped.”
The expression on Seth’s face was priceless. He looked half scared shitless and half excited out of his mind at the prospect of tapped phone lines.
“I was kidding about the tapped-line thing.” His face fell and I felt bad for bursting his bubble, but it was just so easy. “But serious about the break-in. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“Okay,” Seth finally agreed. I guess the potential for discovering the truth about the secret societies of Pemberly Brown was too much for him to resist.
When I got home, I had a full belly, my to-go container of pancakes, and what appeared to be a flawless plan. I slept the afternoon away. A perfect, dreamless sleep. When I woke up, I needed a second to place how I was feeling, and it finally occurred to me that I was excited. I was one step closer to justice, and it felt good.
Chapter 42
I woke up early on Monday morning and splashed cold water over my face, pushing the sleep away. When I heard the door creak, I opened my eyes and tried to focus as droplets of water hung from my lashes.
She stood behind me, staring at me, still wearing her school uniform, inky hair spilling over her shoulders. A scream stuck in my throat as I rubbed at my tired eyes. But when I opened them again, she was gone. I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering if I was crazy, and noticed my computer was no longer idle.
I swiped my face with a towel and rushed to my desk, clicking on the message before I even sat down.
To: [email protected]
Sent: Mon 5:33 AM
From: [email protected]
Subject: (no subject)
Time is almost up.
Go back to the beginning.
The truth is underground.
Talk about a case of the Mondays.
And it didn’t get much better from there.
“Kate, do you have anything to add?” Mr. Erikson, my Physics teacher, stared me down while tapping his wing-tipped foot.
My page of notes consisted of my random thoughts about tombs and their connection to an underground truth. Not much to add there.
“Um, no…I was gonna say what Anthony said.” Across the room, Anthony nodded at me and licked his lips. Eww.
Mr. Erikson walked over to my desk, and even though I tried to lay my arm across the page, it was clear I hadn’t been following the discussion. He tapped his pen on my desk. I had the sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to stop until I looked up at him. So I did. He held my eyes for a second and then walked back up to the front of the room.
“Okay, class, go ahead and pass up your notes. I’m going to count them toward participation points this week.” Mr. Erikson stared at me while he said it. I flushed at feeling singled out. What had I ever done to him?
I looked down at my mess of doodles in relation to Grace’s latest email. Words like “tombs,” “graves,” and “catacombs” filled the page and The truth is underground was underlined three times. I couldn’t exactly submit this to a teacher. Instead I flipped back a few weeks and tore out an old page of notes so I’d at least have something to hand in.
“Mr. E.?” Bradley called from the back of the room. “My water bottle smeared my notes. Can I recopy them tonight and give them to you first thing tomorrow?”
Mr. Erikson shuffled the papers in his hands and chuckled.
“Not a problem, but don’t forget or it’s a zero.”
I guess after earning one too many demerits, I’d lost my touch. I looked back at Bradley, and he shrugged his shoulders and threw me a half smile as if to say he totally knew how I felt. And I suppose he should, since he was taking this class for the second time. Mrs. Garrety had failed him the year before.
The bell finally put an end to my miserable day, and I rushed out to the arches, our designated meeting spot to prepare for the evening’s investigation. I was the first to arrive and was alone in the gardens as the late afternoon sun sank behind the trees. I sat down on Grace’s bench to think about our next logical step. We had planned on going back to the heart of Brown, but now I wasn’t so sure. Grace’s email seemed to be leading us in a different direction. Belowground. Honestly, I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
A gust of wind blew in from behind me, and I smelled the distinct smell of burning wood. I jumped up from the bench, my senses heightened. The smell of smoke triggered a response in me I couldn’t quite explain. Dr. P. claimed it was a sensory association. That the smell of wood burning would always force the trauma of losing Grace back up to the surface, but I preferred to think of it as a fight-or-flight response. Six months earlier I would have been running as far as I could from that smell, but things had changed. And I was sick of running away.
I pushed my way through the brush until I made it into the forest surrounding the gardens. The smell was stronger now, and I could hear the crackling of burning leaves.
And then I saw it.
A small fire had been lit in the clearing up ahead. A circle of stones kept the blaze contained, so theoretically there was nothing to be afraid of. But “theoretically” was not a word my instincts were familiar with. The smell, the
woods—this was all too familiar.
Tiny hairs on the back of my neck pricked up as I felt a pair of eyes fixed on me through the trees. I spun in a circle, but the person watching me was hidden well, tucked in the cover of the trees. And that’s when I noticed it. Something was there in front of the fire. A card with my name on it leaning against a rock.
I picked it up, and my fingertips identified the creamy paper immediately. The fire blazed below me, and the sense of déjà vu was overwhelming. But this time when I read the card, there was no invitation to meet at the chapel. No beautiful calligraphy. Just a simple warning penned in bloodred ink.
Liar, liar
I heard a branch snap behind me, and some soft laughter rang through the leaves. Without thinking, I began to run in the direction of the laughter. If I could find the person behind the threats, the person who had the most to lose, I’d find myself one step closer to the truth.
I followed the sound of pounding feet through the woods, blood rushing through my ears, my throat burning. I would not stop until I got answers. The second I burst back out into the clearing of the gardens, it was obvious that I’d lost the person. The students milling around campus were giggling, flirting, and whispering, not gasping for air. Whoever had been in those woods had either taken another way out or had already blended into the crowd.
I sank down onto Grace’s bench, struggling to catch my breath. The sky closed in on me, and my vision blurred, darkness creeping in along the edges. Familiar with the sensations, I shoved my head between my knees, hating every second of the panic attack, because it meant they had won.
“Hey, you okay?”
It was Liam. Thank God.
In an instant he was next to me on the bench, one arm rubbing my back and the other gripping one of my hands. Slowly my breathing returned to normal, and I cautiously lifted my head out from between my knees only to find my mouth inches from his.
Dizziness threatened to overtake me again, but this time for entirely different reasons. I hovered near the ground, mostly because I liked the way his breath felt on the delicate skin surrounding my lips, and I knew that standing would break the spell.
“You look…”
“Ready for the big mission? We’re meeting here at ten, right?” Seth interrupted Liam with a breathy whisper inches away from both of our faces. I felt the urge to yank each and every red hair right out of his head.
“Uh, yeah. I was just catching my breath.” I untangled myself from Liam and stood up. “Change of plans, though,” I said, still searching the crowd. “We’ll meet at the chapel, where it all began, and we’ll need shovels. I think we might have to do a little digging. But first we’ve got a fire to put out.”
Chapter 43
Remind me what we’re doing here again.” Seth flicked his flashlight beam around like a third-grader at sleep-away camp.
“We’re starting at the beginning,” I hissed. “This is where it all began.” I stepped over ragged police tape that had long since fallen and nearly tripped over a charred wooden beam that had been dragged to the perimeter of the property. “There has to be something there in the basement.”
“But isn’t that where…” Seth looked anxious.
“Don’t even think about it, okay? The Sisterhood and Brotherhood were clearly up to something that night, so there must be some clue here that will help us figure out what really happened.” My voice had taken on a slightly hysterical edge, and I felt Liam’s hand on my shoulder.
We continued walking until we came to the chapel’s remains. Most of the large debris had been cleared away, but the intense smell of burnt wood remained. My foot hit something solid. When I shined my flashlight on the object, I realized it was the bronze plaque that used to mark the chapel as Station 11. It was now charred and warped. I ran my fingers over the blackened Latin phrase Ad vitam aeternam, “to eternal life,” and thought of Grace. If only everyone’s definition of eternal life was the same. The discrepancy pissed me off.
We walked to the edge of the foundation and peered down into what used to be the basement, where Grace’s body had been discovered. I was always surprised to see that the lower level looked to have escaped most of the damage, and I had to remind myself that the smoke, not the flames, had killed my best friend.
“Look, there’s a set of stairs over there.” Liam pointed to the back of the building. “If you really want to do this, I think we can go down.”
I nodded and breathed in deeply. Seth let out a little squeak but followed us with his flashlight.
Sure enough, the stairs were still intact. I looked at my two knights in tarnished armor and raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
“Yeah, all right. Let’s just get this over with.” To my surprise, Seth began the descent first.
It got darker and darker with each step into the basement. Even though much of the basement was exposed to the night sky, the moon didn’t offer much light. With each step, my legs shook, barely supporting the weight of my body. I tried to remain calm, but my emotions ran wild.
Here I was, at the place where my best friend had lost her life, dragging the only two friends I had left down with me, and I had no idea what to look for. I felt like giving up, but when my foot hit the solid surface of the basement floor, I felt a new resolve. Grace had died here. Alone. She deserved justice.
We began walking the perimeter of the basement. Our flashlights illuminated stacks of charred wood, but otherwise the basement appeared to be empty. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled, shining my flashlight over every inch of the floor. Nothing. If something had been down here that night, it was gone now.
But my stream of light landed on a new texture tucked close to the far wall. The light shook as I rushed over and found what looked like a trapdoor made of solid wood, flush with the floor of the basement. I tried to pull at the edges with my fingers, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Hey, guys, check this out.”
Seth and Liam immediately joined me by the small door.
“I thought the underground Grace was referring to was the basement. But maybe there’s something underneath this place?”
“No way; it doesn’t even move. They probably had to cut into it for a pipe repair or something,” Seth replied.
“I don’t know,” Liam said, his forehead crinkled in thought. “Listen.”
He pounded on the floor, and it made an echoing sound. There was definitely a hole underneath the square. It had to be a hatch or a door of some sort.
“There’s got to be a way to get it open. Move for a second.” Liam struggled with the door, trying to pry it open with one of the shovels, a flashlight, and even a stick (yeah, I wasn’t impressed either), but the door wouldn’t budge.
Annoyed, I wondered if we should call it a night; the dark basement and narrow streams of light were giving me a headache. Just as I was about to get to my feet, I heard muffled voices coming from down below.
“Shhh,” I whispered to the boys. “Listen.”
All three of us put our ears to the dank floor and held our breath.
“Are you sure we can’t take the library route? This freaks me out,” a voice from below said.
“Not with Big D. on duty. We’d never make it out of the stacks,” was the muffled reply.
The footsteps underground seemed to be coming closer to where we lay. Seth and I froze, and Liam had to drag us into the dark recesses of the basement to hide behind a stack of charred wood. The three of us managed to squeeze behind the pile, but it was a tight fit. All at once, the door we had just been kneeling in front of swung open, and two heads emerged. The gaping cracks between the stacked wood left me feeling completely vulnerable. I held my breath, sure they’d spot us instantly.
“Be careful. You know it’s not safe anymore.” It was Bradley Farrow.
“Whatever. You’re just being paranoid.” I could see through one of our many peepholes that the second voice belonged to Alistair.
And just like that, pieces to a p
uzzle much more complicated than I ever imagined began to fall into place. The Brotherhood really did exist. Alistair and Bradley were members, and the secret doorway underneath the chapel must lead…somewhere.
Whatever they had been up to that night, Bradley must have been in on it. Guess it wasn’t a coincidence that he’d decided to ask me to go on a walk at the exact same time I was supposed to be meeting with the Sisterhood.
Did he know there was going to be a fire? Is that why they wanted me out of the way? But why had they decided to keep me away? Why not Grace? What was I missing?
There was the muted thud of the trapdoor slamming shut and the sound of footsteps heading up the stairs and out into the night. They were gone.
I exhaled, and someone’s warm breath caressed my cheek. I looked up and found Liam’s face about an inch from my own. My entire body pressed up against his. In the darkness of the basement, in spite of the fear and confusion and guilt and grief that snaked through me, I wanted to kiss him. Bad. I leaned back a little more and turned my face up to his. His hands gripped my arms, but in a good way, making me feel like he was just as desperate to kiss me as I was to kiss him.
“Ahem.” Seth cleared his throat and shuffled awkwardly right next to us.
I flushed and moved away from both of them, walking back over to what I now knew was a trapdoor.
“Well, that was a little close,” Liam whispered, catching my eye. For a second, I wondered what he was referring to.
“Yeah, thanks, Captain Obvious,” Seth said as he stepped out from behind the pile of wood. Great, now Seth was stealing my lines. Clearly we were spending too much time together.
“So there’s definitely a door, but where does it lead?” Liam asked.
“The underground. Maybe that’s what Grace was trying to tell us, er…you, Kate. Maybe they live underground or something,” Seth answered. And then after a second he added, “Like the mole people.”
