“Oh, Denzil, what is it? Is someone—?”
He backed out, shaking his head. “There’s nothing in there, Kate.”
“Nothing? But I don’t—”
“Something was in there, but it’s gone now.”
“Let me see—”
“No.” He put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her gently back against the sink again. “It looks like something was killed in there. Like an animal. Like something was killed… and then… just drained. I’ve never seen so much blood.”
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Be my guest.” Denzil nodded, and as Kate sank down in a limp heap on the floor, he wet a washrag under the faucet and handed it to her.
“It’s the smell,” Kate gasped, holding the cloth over her nose. “Don’t you smell that?”
“You mean the blood? That real metallic smell—”
“No, it’s something else. Besides the blood—I… I can’t place it.” Kate lowered her head, fighting off a wave of dizziness. “It’s horrible. Denzil… what is going on?”
Regarding the mirror, Denzil scratched his jaw. “Is it a warning maybe? Someone doesn’t like your writing? Well, I’ll tell you what, whoever it is, is one hell of a critic.”
Staring at him, Kate suddenly burst out laughing, the sound bordering on hysteria. “Will you be serious?”
He knelt slowly beside her. “Okay, it can basically mean one thing, right? Someone doesn’t like the attention you’ve been getting from Gideon. Right?”
“No.” Kate shook her head. “I don’t think that’s—”
“Come on, he singled you out in class, he raved about your story, he took you for a walk—”
“But it doesn’t make sense. I mean, so what if he pays attention to me? Everyone here’s an adult; we’re not talking about some grade-school crush or something. I haven’t noticed anyone displaying any over-affection for the teacher, have you? Or anyone who seems demented—”
“Who knows what someone might be thinking, Kate? You can’t always tell a crazy person by his face.”
“So you really think a crazy person did this?” She looked startled.
Denzil chuckled. “Well, this isn’t something I enjoy doing myself… you know, destroying a girl’s room, sacrificing some animal in her shower, writing clichés on her mirror in blood—”
“Then this proves it,” Kate said flatly.
“What proves what?”
“Last night when Tawney and I were swimming. I told you someone was on the bank watching me. It was deliberate, don’t you see? They took my key and cut up my clothes.”
Denzil’s smile faded. He looked again at the mirror.
“Why is someone after me, Denzil?” Kate looked so beseeching that he took her hand. “I don’t know anyone here. I haven’t done anything or—”
“Okay, okay, let’s look at it another way. It might just be someone’s idea of a joke, though what possible humor they find in all this is beyond me. Still”—Denzil sighed—“there are lots of real sickos out there in the world.”
A sudden knock sounded on the cabin door, and they both jumped. As Denzil held his finger to his lips, Kate backed up, holding her breath while he peeked cautiously out into the room.
“It’s Pearce,” he hissed back over his shoulder. “He’s coming in.” Denzil flattened himself against the wall behind the door as Kate hurried out into the other room.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Do you always just go around barging into people’s cabins?”
Pearce froze in the doorway, his dark eyes sliding from Kate to the chaos thrown around the room. For one brief instant Kate thought she saw a flicker of something—what?—surprise?—alarm?
“What happened in here?” His voice was cold as steel, and Kate felt her own voice quiver as his eyes settled on her again.
“I found it like this,” she said. “When I came back to my cabin just now.”
Pearce was still staring, not saying a word. After an endless stretch of silence he asked, “Anyone hurt?”
“No.”
“Anything stolen?”
“I don’t think so.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering to the closed bathroom door. “Have you been in there?”
“Yes. It’s just this room.”
Pearce’s black eyes crawled slowly across the clutter… up the walls… across the floor. His hand stretched out toward her. “Here’s your key. Try not to lose it this time. I’ll bring you some new bedding.”
Kate took the key from his fingers, felt the hidden strength in his upturned palm.
“It happens,” Pearce said quietly. “Vandalism. The cabins get broken into all the time. I’ll report it… but it happens.”
Kate said nothing, just watched him turn and go out the door. She watched as he slipped down onto the path and was surprised when he turned around again.
His deep eyes fastened on her, and his voice was as unreadable as his face. At his side one hand slowly tightened into a fist.
“If I were you,” he said, “I’d be very careful.”
Trembling, Kate pressed her hand to her eyes.
When she looked again, the path was empty.
Chapter 11
BAD SURPRISES.
I heard you say it, Kate… back there in the woods.
You like to be scared….
But not by bad surprises.
So this was only a little bit bad….
Because the worst is yet to come.
Teacher’s pet…
Teacher’s pet…
You’re going to die…
But not… just… yet.
Chapter 12
AFTER THE STRANGE ENCOUNTER she’d seen in the village earlier, Kate was surprised to see Gideon in class that afternoon. He was perched on the edge of a desk when she walked in, sunlight slanting across his bent head, his face strained as he studied his watch. When everyone was seated, he stared a moment out the window, then glanced thoughtfully at Pet, curled beside him.
“Fear,” he began quietly, “seldom plays fair. Its best weapon is often surprise. Often, distortion. Always… the unknown.”
Once more Kate felt helplessly drawn by the spell of his voice, and she closed her eyes to listen.
“Perhaps the unknown we fear most is ourselves—our darker sides. We don’t like to be reminded of what that darker side can do. We fear it turning on us without warning. Taking over. Changing us from something human to something totally evil. Stalking us. Watching… waiting for its chance to pounce.”
Yawning, Pet arched herself against Gideon’s side and stretched regally down again, surveying the roomful of startled faces with something akin to disdain.
“This afternoon,” Gideon went on, “we’re going to be working with another fear technique. Descriptions. Creating certain moods and communicating through our senses. I compiled a list at home last night, assigning each of you a particular spot around camp that I feel offers special atmosphere. I’ve also posted a list in the lodge, in case anyone should need to find you this afternoon for any reason. What I want you to do is write a description of your assigned location. It must be both physical and emotional—and through that description, I want you to make the reader feel what you yourself are experiencing. You can drop your papers off here when you’re finished, and I’ll collect them after dinner. In the meanwhile, I’ll be in the lodge if you need me.”
As students got their instructions and eagerly set out, Kate lagged behind, gathering her things together and waiting for the room to empty. The memory of her ransacked cabin still clung to her like a nightmare; between her and Denzil and some heavy-duty cleaning supplies, they’d finally gotten the bathroom back to normal, though Denzil swore the smell of blood still lingered there. Now she closed her eyes, forcing the horrible images away, and when she opened them again, Gideon was staring at her from across the deserted room.
“Kate?”
She offered him a tent
ative smile. “I just wanted to make sure… are you okay?”
Her concern seemed to catch him off guard. “Why, of course, thank you for asking. Is there… some reason I shouldn’t be?”
Kate looked away. Because you looked half out of your mind in the village, don’t you remember…? “You seemed so upset on our walk this morning.”
“That was rude of me,” Gideon said quietly. “I suddenly remembered an important engagement, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. Am I forgiven?”
She nodded slowly, still seeing that stricken look on his face… still seeing the glove…. “I don’t suppose there’s been any news of William?”
“Why do you ask?” Gideon’s eyes rested upon hers with a calm intensity, but one hand froze midair above the cat’s head. Pet rolled over on her side and swatted at his finger, leaving a pencil-line scratch that Gideon didn’t seem to feel.
“It’s just that you must be so worried,” she said carefully.
Was it her imagination, or did something shudder through Gideon, tensing his muscles, darkening his eyes? As Kate stared, the expression seemed to freeze upon his face, and his smile seemed strangely painted.
“Well, you needn’t worry about William, he does this sort of thing quite a lot.” One hand absently descended… stroked Pet’s back. “I’ve no doubt he’ll turn up. Life can’t come to a halt because of him, now, can it?”
As Kate watched, his other hand groped for a piece of paper on the desk.
“You’re waiting for your assignment, of course.”
“No, actually—”
“You’ll like this one,” Gideon cut in, handing her the paper. “I tried to think of a place you’d particularly enjoy. It’s a bit off the main route, but you can see it easily from the trail.”
Kate accepted the paper, feeling slightly hurt at his sudden change in tone. “Sounds like fun,” she said lamely.
He stood and began collecting his papers. As Kate silently turned to go, his fingers suddenly closed around her elbow. “Kate…” His hand raised slowly… reached out… lightly touched the hair on her forehead. “You’re really so extraordinary, you know… so extraordinary that… it frightens me—”
Breaking off, his eyes fastened on the doorway behind her, and Kate started to turn in the direction of his stare.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His hands were on her shoulders, paralyzed, and Kate winced from their unexpected strength.
“Ouch, Gideon, you’re hurting me—”
“I’m sorry.” And suddenly his voice was distracted, his body moving quickly toward the door. “Forgive me, Kate, but I’m afraid something has come up.”
“Gideon?” Puzzled, Kate watched him leave, Pet following behind. By the time she reached the door herself, she saw Gideon standing with Pearce on the other side of the road. They seemed to be arguing about something, and Gideon kept looking off into the woods. Spying Kate there outside the cabin, he said something to Pearce, and they went into the lodge. Shrugging, Kate looked down at her assignment and started walking, then heard Miss Bunceton’s familiar shout.
“Yoo-hoo! Kate! Where are you off to, dear?”
“A writing project.” Kate waved back, and as she explained the exercise, Miss Bunceton fluttered in delight.
“Well, it sounds perfectly marvelous! Would you mind if I came along? I could do with some inspiration myself.”
Kate didn’t see how she could get much accomplished in Miss Bunceton’s company, but since there didn’t seem to be any gracious way of refusing, she gave in.
“I don’t know where this place is—Drewe’s Cave. Somewhere past the lake.”
“But you have a map there, I see. Come, dear, we’ll surely find it.”
Hiding a smile, Kate led the way, only half listening as Miss Bunceton kept up a constant stream of talk. She was relieved when the woman finally spied a shady little hollow that piqued her interest.
“Can’t you just see it, Kate?” Miss Bunceton breathed deeply. “The wounded hero lying there, suffering, while the heroine ministers to his needs?” As Kate shook her head in amusement, the woman added, “A stoic hero, mind you—one who would never want his weaknesses and vulnerabilities known to a woman!”
Kate laughed and pointed ahead to the ongoing trail. “If you’re going to stay, I’ll just pick you up on my way back.”
“Wonderful. Who knows? I may have a whole novel written by the time we meet again.”
“X-rated, I hope,” Kate shot back, and could still hear Miss Bunceton hooting with laughter as she disappeared from view.
After several more minutes Kate began to wonder if she’d somehow taken the wrong trail. She hadn’t seen any other people on this route, and the heavy silence was almost suffocating. Stopping to rest, she studied her map again, then leaned against a tree and closed her eyes.
And then… slowly… the skin began to prickle along her arms.
Kate’s eyes flew open, a cry catching in her throat.
For one horrible instant she’d had the overpowering feeling that she was being watched.
Quickly her eyes scanned the trail… the woods, so thick, so mottled with colors and shadows.
Kate… Kate… doomed to your fate….
Teacher’s pet.
Looking back over her shoulder, Kate set off again, walking faster. She could see it now, the narrow pathway spiraling downwards from the main trail, leading to a spindly-bare thicket and the yawning mouth of a cave. Gideon was certainly right about atmosphere, Kate thought grimly, starting down—the place had a sinister, almost hopeless look about it. She hesitated several feet from the cave entrance, took a deep breath, and moved forward.
She stood for a moment in a pool of light. A canopy of leaves settled behind her as she pushed through, daylight closing off with a soft rustling. The gaping entry was clotted with weeds and rubble, fanned by a damp, invisible breeze. Ahead of her the light grew weaker and weaker, until it finally faded altogether, swallowed by the black depths of the cave. Kate stared hard into that blackness, wondering what lay beyond….
And saw someone staring back at her.
With a cry, her eyes fixed in disbelief on the black eyes that pulled slowly out of the shadows. Pearce separated himself from the darkness and stood in front of her.
“What are you doing here?!” Kate pressed one hand to her racing heart, backing farther away from him.
Pearce regarded her thoughtfully for several seconds. The only thing that moved were his eyes, sliding down the front of her… returning to her face.
“Just my job,” he said, shrugging.
“And what kind of job is that—hiding and scaring me half to death?”
“Oh.” One eyebrow raised. “I thought you liked to be scared.” And then, as Kate stared at him, “At least that’s what Gideon tells me.”
Unnerved, Kate struggled to keep her voice calm. “I… I wish you’d just leave. I’m supposed to do a writing assignment here.”
“Ah.” Pearce nodded. “So you’re the one who has the cave.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I helped him make up the list. I know the area better than he does.”
Kate felt weak. “But… you didn’t assign—”
“The places to the people?” His eyes were amused. “Gideon’s the teacher… not me.”
“So there’s no reason for you to be here.” Kate took another step back. “I can’t write when someone’s watching me.”
“You should be glad I have a good memory.” Pearce jerked his chin toward the blackness behind him. “It’s a favorite spot for copperheads. I’ve found nests back there before.”
Her stomach tightened but she looked back, undaunted. “I wouldn’t have gone back in there.”
“Well”—he gave the slightest nod—“then I guess there’s no problem.”
“Wait—” She glanced into the cave, searching the floor, the piles of fallen rock, seeing nothing. “Did you�
�� find any?”
The smile was cold… mocking… crawling slowly across his lips. His eyes held hers for an endless moment, and then he started forward.
Kate heard the awful sounds before she realized what was happening….
The sudden, horrible crunching… the scream of pain and surprise as Pearce went down… the thud of his head against stone….
And as Kate got to him and knelt by his side, she saw the steel trap clamped around his foot, hidden there in the tall weeds.
Chapter 13
“PEARCE?” KATE STARED IN horror at his unconscious form sprawled there on the ground. “Pearce? Can you hear me?” Panicky, she grabbed at the trap, her eyes desperately sweeping over their surroundings. “Pearce! Wake up!”
To her relief, his eyes fluttered open, fixing on her face in dazed confusion. For one awful moment Kate thought he was going to pass out again, but then he moaned and stiffened, his face draining white.
“Oh, God!” Kate stared helplessly as Pearce writhed beside her, his hands uselessly clutching the metal jaws that held him fast. “Oh, God, what can I do? Tell me what to do!”
“Get—get Gideon—” The words came from between clenched teeth, and though every instinct in her wanted to run, Kate stubbornly shook her head.
“I’m not leaving you here alone. We’ve got to get this thing off your leg—you’ve got to help me.” She was surprised that her words even got through to him. Gasping, he rolled over and took hold of the trap, his fingers slippery with blood.
“You’ll have… to pull,” his breath choked out. “You’ll have—to—pull hard—”
“Yes, yes, I’ll pull, just show me what to do.”
Kate’s hands were shaking as much as her voice, and she prayed for calm, terrified she’d accidentally let go before he could pull free. With every muscle straining, she grabbed one side of the trap and worked it steadily outward, her frightened eyes on Pearce, who looked like he might faint again at any second. Scarcely daring to breathe, she saw his foot pull inch by inch out of danger, and she used her last ounce of strength to ease the trap slowly back into place. Pearce fell back, exhausted, his face a pasty mask.
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