Dead Girls

by R. L. Weeks

  I shuddered at the sound of the bell and walked to class feeling lower than ever. Those girls would surely tell everyone. So much for keeping a low profile. I mentally kicked myself before heading into chemistry.

  ***

  My first day at school had been pretty uneventful. I’d made one new friend: Cherry. She was cute, full of energy and had bright-pink hair. She reminded me of a little pixie. Besides her and Tommy, I hadn’t really clicked with anyone. I decided not to go to tryouts next week. I shouldn’t have spoken to those girls. I was surprised anyone here knew anything about Manhattan’s schools or news, but they had.

  Tommy was waiting for me by the steps, but a girl was talking toward him. I hurried to him and the petite blonde girl who kept flicking her hair back every ten seconds.

  “Hey!” I said to Tommy and placed my hand on his arm. I looked directly at the girl. “Hi. Who are you?”

  “Oh, hi. I’m Ashley.”

  Tommy looked between us both. “She’s my friend John’s little sister.”

  “Oh. I haven’t met him yet.”

  Tommy looked amused. “I’m going to walk Jackson home.”

  Ashley gave us a small smile. “Nice to meet you. Bye.” She quickly turned on her heel and left.

  “She seemed nice,” I lied.

  He smirked at me. “Right. You don’t need to get jealous.”

  “I’m not.” I pursed my lips. “Why would I be?”

  “Okay,” he said with the same smug look. “Want to go get some coffee first?”

  “Mmhmm.” He did know how to perk up my mood. Coffee sounded so good right now.

  “Did you talk to your sister?” he asked as we walked side by side.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I’m worried about her. Have you heard any more news about the killer?”

  He paused, looking torn. “No.”

  “You don’t sound sure.”

  “I am,” he said and changed the subject. “How were your classes?”

  “I wish we were together in more,” I complained. “But okay. I’m a little worried because I spoke to these girls. They were friends of the dead girl found in the forest. I let it slip I was from Manhattan and stuff, and I’m worried they’re going to make a big deal out of it.”

  “Ridgeview isn’t like Manhattan,” he explained. “People don’t care about where you’re from or anything.”

  “They knew about my old school and the news about my parents’ deaths, so you’re wrong.”

  Concern laced his expression, but he didn’t push it further. “I think I should come and stay at your house.”

  Whoa. “I’m sorry, what now?”

  “I’m worried about Pierce… your and your sister’s safety with this killer on the loose.”

  I furrowed my brows. “What will having you there accomplish? My grandma already hates people…”

  “She likes me,” he pointed out.

  I rolled my eyes. “C’mon. You can’t be serious.”

  He looked me dead in the eyes. “I’m very serious.”

  We reached the coffee shop. He opened the door for me, and we walked inside. The smell of fresh coffee grounds filled my nostrils. It was the most beautiful smell. I turned back toward Tommy while we waited in line. “I don’t know. I mean, I’d have to talk to grandma and Pierce. Honestly, the odds are they will say no, but it’s super sweet for you to offer.”

  My answer did nothing to wipe the stern look on his face.

  I relented. “I’ll talk to them.”

  He eased up. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at how amazingly sweet it was of him. “I’ll pay for the coffees today,” I said as we reached the counter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Pierce

  No matter how hard I tried to wipe away the grime and dust inside the old damned manor, my efforts always seemed to be in vain. Every room seemed worse than the last, and just keeping the kitchen clean was proving to be a hassle since it was where the dirt seemed to want to settle. I threw the dirty rags I was using into the kitchen sink full of bleach water and made my way toward the front door. I desperately needed some air.

  I didn’t make it more than a few feet past the kitchen when I collapsed into an old high-back, yellow-stained armchair in the foyer.

  The key. The key, a ghostly voice whispered from the hall.

  The books. The boooooooks.

  Mors Vitae.

  The whispering had been going on since Jackson left for school. I covered my ears even though I knew it was all in my head, but I couldn’t shut it out. I had tried daydreaming about Axel and our hot-and-heavy make-out session in his little hut, but even that couldn’t drown the voices tempting me back to the east wing.

  The damned key was bringing me nothing but torment. I felt its heavy presence against my butt in the back pocket of my jeans and instinctively reached for the old iron thing. The voices quieted as my hand touched the key, and they almost silenced completely when I pulled it out of my pocket and held it in front of me.

  “You’ll find the answers you want if you just go back.”

  I jumped up from the chair and twirled around toward the foyer. At the top of the staircase was the old gardener I had seen our first night here. His back was turned to me, but I recognized his dirt-covered overalls, the canvas gardening gloves sticking out of his back pocket, and his old newsboy cap. He was one of those guys whose fashion sense had gotten stuck in another decade.

  “Hey!” I called after him as he started walking along the landing banister before disappearing down the hallway.

  I took off up the stairs to follow him. I wanted to know once and for all who he was and why Grandma claimed he didn’t exist. Perhaps he could even give me some insight into what was actually going on in Ridgeview.

  Or maybe he’s the serial killer.

  He’s not the serial killer.

  He’s not real.

  I froze on the top step. I tried to rationalize the voices I’d heard were my subconscious trying to work out what was happening to me and around me.

  I pushed away those worries and focused on the matter at hand. None of the hall lights were on, but the light from the landing chandelier was enough to cast a glow down the hall. I peered down it but didn’t see the old man and noticed all the doors were shut. I hadn’t heard any open or close, so he had to be somewhere in the wing still and couldn’t have gone too far.

  I started quickly down the hallway, tightly grasping the key.

  “Hello?” I called down the dark hallway. “I saw you on the stairs!”

  I needed to know if Grandma had a boyfriend sneaking around her manor she wanted to keep secret or if maybe I really was going crazy.

  “Pierce!”

  Grandma’s shrill voice carried through the west wing hallway all the way to the other side of the manor where I had frozen in place once again. I listened to make sure it really was Grandma calling my name and not one of the voices in my head again.

  “Pierce!”

  Her scream was more urgent this time. I turned around and sprinted through the long hallway, past the landing, and down the west wing hallway to Vera’s bedroom. I spilled into her room without waiting for permission and stood panting just inside the doorway.

  Vera stood gazing out the window with her back toward me. A long pink dressing down was draped over her stooped body, and the sunlight coming in through the window made her wild, white hair shine against the dark curtains.

  “Come tell me what you see, Pierce,” she croaked and gestured for me to join her by the window.

  I hesitated. Warning bells were already going off in my mind. The voices had stilled, but every hair on my body stood on end, and something inside my veins was making me want to turn around and run all the way back to Manhattan.

  I jumped when hard thud sounded against the window. Vera didn’t move a muscle.

  “Grandma? What was that?” I whispered, unsure if I really wanted to know.


  I jumped back when another thud, then another rapped against the window. A splatter of red exploded above grandma’s head and the glass splintered upward.

  “Grandma, get back!” I rushed up to the window, grabbed my grandma by the shoulders, and pulled her backward toward the other side of the room.

  “Seven days, Pierce. Seven days. That’s all you have left!” Vera shouted hysterically before breaking down in laughter.

  I ushered her to the bed and helped her sit. Grandma wheezed as she tried to stifle her laughter and catch her breath, but I was furious. How could she be laughing right now? I looked over my shoulder and saw masses of black feathers striking the window, leaving streaks of blood on the now cracking glass. I rushed to the window intent on shutting the curtains at least and saw the battered bird bodies piling up in the empty flower box outside Vera’s window.

  I shrieked and yanked the heavy curtains closed, casting the room in darkness.

  I turned my back toward the window and took two, long deep breaths. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins faster than my blood. My heart raced, and I felt an electricity building inside of me I desperately wanted to release but didn’t know how. I was angry and terrified and confused. I was a whole mess of emotions, and I had no idea how to channel them.

  “Seven days.” Vera cackled again from the bed where she rocked back and forth, still giggling.

  “Seven days until what?!” I snapped.

  I inhaled again, trying to steady my breathing, and waited for her reply.

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she took a few deep breaths herself, quieted her laughs, and slipped her feet under the down comforter as though I wasn’t in the room at all, never mind the fact I was speaking to her. Her head leaned back against her embroidered pillows. She was having a late morning nap.

  I rolled my eyes and stomped to the door. I wasn’t concerned with being considerate since my grandma clearly wasn’t. I flung the door open and didn’t stop it from bouncing hard off the door stop and slamming closed behind me, almost smacking me in the butt.

  Vera was a senile old mess. Crows were committing suicide against her bedroom window, and the gardener was creeping around the east wing somewhere.

  A flash of red caught my eye at the end of the hallway by my bedroom.

  I turned my head to get a better look and noticed my door was wide open. I was sure I had shut it when I went downstairs to make Jackson breakfast in the morning. The frown permanently etched on my face deepened.

  I crept toward my room on tiptoe. I wasn’t sure what I planned on doing if I found someone inside, but the electricity I still felt buzzing over my skin seemed to propel me forward and squash any fear I might have had. When I reached my room, I stopped at the threshold.

  A girl, my age, stood in the middle of the room. She had long auburn hair pulled up into a tight ponytail on top of her head, and it cascaded down her back, almost to her hips. She wore a Ridgeview High Falcons cheerleading uniform. Everything about her was normal and almost like looking into a mirror—if I had been the cheerleading type. She stared straight ahead looking through me, out the door and into the hallway.

  “Hello?” I stepped forward and waved my hand a few feet from her face.

  She didn’t blink or breathe or move, but she flickered.

  “Is this real?” I asked.

  I wasn’t sure if I was asking me, the apparition in front of me, or God, but I hoped someone would give me an answer. The cheerleader’s neck suddenly tore open on either side and blood tickled down her throat, over her collar bone, and onto her ample breasts and white-and-blue cheer top. Her hands flew to her throat, and her gaze finally locked on mine.

  It’s you they want.

  Her mouth didn’t move, but I knew the voice in my head was the cheerleader who stood in front of me.

  “What do you mean they want me? Who?”

  They know more about you than you know about yourself.

  “What do they know about me?” I begged the apparition.

  You’re in danger.

  “Who is the serial killer? Is he after me?”

  You can’t trust either of them.

  The cheerleader was fading as though she were a thinning puff of smoke.

  “Wait!”

  I reached out and grasped at air. She was gone. I hadn’t imagined her standing right in front of me though. I’d clearly heard her words in my head. I had never believed in supernatural things, but the more days went by, the more I began to question if Grandma’s stories of witches, vampires, werewolves, and other monsters in the woods were real and more than just scare tactics I could use on my little sister.

  Had it been a ghost?

  I shook my head. No. That was ridiculous. Anything I could see Jackson should be able to see too. If ghosts were real.

  I slumped onto my bed and let myself fall back against the pillows. My head was pounding, and rubbing my temples wasn’t making the stress of everything happening go away. First Mom and Dad had died, then I start seeing things that weren’t there, hearing voices, disappearing in the middle of the night, having crazy nightmares; and I’m certain I’d zapped my sister during the storm the other day somehow.

  The key pressed against me in my back pocket, reminding me it was still there. Every time I thought about the key, I thought about the east wing and the library the key opened, full of books in Latin and other languages, mysterious maps, and scrolls. I remembered the weapons cabinet and shuddered. How could Grandma have all of this inside the manor and us have no idea? I wondered if Dad knew about the room or if he had ever been inside as a boy or as an adult. What could it all mean? I really needed to talk to Jackson, but she had been spending all her time with Tommy since meeting him at the school, and Axel had done a fantastic job of distracting me the last few days as well.

  I sighed and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow and groaning before climbing back out of bed. The day wasn’t even halfway over yet, and Jackson would be gone another few hours still. This was the first time she had ever gone to school without me. The fact of her not being bothered by the occasion was what worried me the most. My little sister didn’t need me—or want me—to protect her anymore. Tommy was trying to step in and take my place.

  I crinkled my nose. Something was off about Tommy, but I didn’t know what. The day I’d seen him on the stoop with Jackson when I registered her for school, my senses had gone haywire. Something about him felt… familiar—too familiar for someone we hadn’t met or even seen before. I needed to keep an eye on him, and I knew just the person to help me. Axel was camping out in our woods. I was sure he’d help me keep an eye on Tommy and the house. He’d do anything for me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jackson

  “Yes. I really love Ridgeview, a town right in the center of a forest. I love being able to feel one with nature. I’d rather not pollute the town with car smog if I can help it, you know?”

  “Um, I guess?” I replied.

  I wasn’t the nature type of girl, but I was willing to be anything Tommy wanted me to be. I needed to turn over a new leaf anyway and figure out who I was away from home, with a two-hundred-dollar allowance and no parents.

  We discarded our coffee cups in a trash can at the bus stop, then Tommy laced his fingers with mine and pulled me farther down the road toward a vacant lot. It sat edged up to the woods, away from the road leading to the manor.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Let’s take the trail. We might see some deer. They come out at dusk.”

  Tommy’s smile was reassuring. A sunset walk through the forest might be romantic, or we might end up the next victims of a serial killer. I stopped and resisted Tommy’s gentle pull.

  “Oh, come on Jackson. I’ll protect you,” he said and tugged a bit harder, pulling me into his chest.

  There was that promise again. Maybe Tommy really could protect me though.

  “Are you like, a master at martial arts or something?” I asked hi
m.

  Tommy burst into laughter and dropped my arm. I immediately missed his touch and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “I’m serious! You keep saying you can protect me. There’s a serial killer on the loose. I’m pretty sure my sister is losing her mind right alongside our senile old grandma, there’s a cottage full of giant wolf heads, and you think you can protect me—”

  Tommy’s lips were on mine before I could finish my rant. One hand grasped the back of my head and the other landed gently on my hip as his tongue parted my lips. I melted into him, opening my mouth, and welcomed him eagerly. I looped my fingers around the belt loops of his jeans and pulled his hips firmly against mine.

  A low growl escaped Tommy’s throat, and he kissed me harder for only a second before backing away suddenly. My lips were swollen, and I bit the bottom one, yearning to taste his mouth again.

  “Let’s go into the woods,” Tommy said as he adjusted his skinny jeans to hide his attraction to me.

  I smiled. I never thought I would lose my virginity in the woods of all places, but as long as it was with Tommy, I didn’t care where we were. He kept asking me to trust him, and I wanted to. I wanted to trust him with my body, heart, and soul, and the way he kissed me proved he felt the same way.

  Tommy walked quickly, and I had to jog to keep ahold of his hand as he pulled me toward the mulched trail leading deep into the valley of the wooded landscape. The sun was still above the tops of the trees, but the valley was darker than I’d expected. The tree canopy provided a thick cover to block out the sun and left the narrow pathway shadowy and the ground much cooler than the weather felt in town or even up on top of the hill.

  The twigs and leaves crunched beneath our feet. We passed a mossy patch, a large stone slab, and even a wooden bench someone had put on the trail and dedicated to their sister. All those places would have made a great spot for making love to Tommy, but he passed all of them, without even hesitating to stop. I already missed his lips on mine.