“He’s gone, Dee.”
I frantically grasped at my last memories before waking up in the hospital. Henley. The high school and the enormous blue door I used as a pillow. Joseph sitting there next to me, tucking me into his side as I gave in to exhaustion. He was there. Joseph was there. “What do you mean, he’s gone?”
“I fell asleep right after you and woke up to the school’s principal nudging my foot. No one was there with us. No one.”
I brought my hands to my head and squeezed. Digging my fingers into my scalp, I tried uselessly to claw Mike’s words from my mind. Joseph was gone. I’d done everything I could to help him. Bled for him. Bound myself to his father. Risked Mike’s life and gotten Luke killed. All for him. All so that he could have the chance to save his sister, and this was how he thanked me. This!
The sound that ripped from my throat was feral, a cross between a sob and a war cry. I wasn’t crazy, and no doctor or police report could convince me I was.
“Do you believe it happened? Tell me you remember it. Luke. The house. The basement … all of it.”
“They think I’m crazy, Dee, that I feel guilty I lived and Luke didn’t. I needed to talk to you before they did, to see if you remember it the same way, prove to myself that I’m not going insane.”
Mike picked up my hand and ran his fingers across the thin pink ribbon of scars. “I spent two days waiting for you to wake up, Dee. Two days listening to the doctors’ explanations and swallowing their pills, but it didn’t stop. The memories, the sounds, the smells, everything that happened in Purity Springs is stuck in my mind, but I couldn’t get out of that room, that ward, until I said what they wanted to hear.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that when my dad comes in here this morning, when the cops or Mrs. Hooper ask you what happened, you lie. Tell them it was an accident, that we hit a plow and left Luke there to go find help.”
Something in my mind shifted, a horrifying realization suddenly making its way into my consciousness. “You said you told the cops everything. The cops—were they from Purity Springs?”
“Hell no. I wouldn’t have let those bastards anywhere near me,” he said. “There were two of them, a sheriff and one of his deputies. They were from some neighboring town. I don’t remember the name. Elijah or John or whatever his name is apparently called them when I started talking. He thought it would be wise to have an ‘uninvolved’ third party do their own investigation.”
Dropping my head, I dug my hands into the wounds on my arms to make sure I wasn’t trapped in some hideous nightmare. The sharp burn told me I wasn’t, and I glanced up and scanned the doorway to make sure no one was listening.
“Dee? Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“His brother,” I choked out. “Elijah has two brothers. They control the neighboring towns. One is a sheriff. The other sits on some sort of town council. That’s how they fly under the radar. That’s why none of the neighboring towns suspect a damn thing about Purity Springs. If they know … ” I trailed off, unwilling to vocalize my suspicions. If the officer who got Mike locked up in the psych ward was who I thought he was, then Elijah’s brother had been here. Jared knew where we lived and how to find us.
Thirty-Nine
I sat in the dark alone, the muted beeping of the machines keeping me tethered to my surroundings. Luke was dead. Joseph was gone. And Mike wanted me to lie, to pretend that none this had ever happened.
Mrs. Hooper opened my door and smiled. She looked exhausted and thin, as if she hadn’t slept or eaten for days. She probably hadn’t. I couldn’t help but feel a bit of happiness. She’d worried about me. Cared about me. Missed me, and somehow that made everything a little brighter.
“It’s nice to see you awake,” she said as she hurried to my side. She looked me up and down, her gaze lingering on the clogs on my feet. “You’re not going anywhere, young lady. You’re going to get back in the bed and do exactly as the doctor says.”
I waved her off. “I need my clothes. I want to go home. I want to see Luke.”
She stopped at my words, her smile fading. “Luke is gone, sweetie. He died in the accident.”
“I know he’s gone,” I said. “But it’s not what you think. It didn’t happen the way everybody is saying.”
“What do you mean?”
There was a gentle assurance in her voice, the unspoken promise that she would listen and, at the very least, try to believe me.
I went to answer her, to tell her every sordid detail of my nightmare, when a knock on the door stopped me.
“It’s Dee, right?” His voice was gentle and laced with false sympathy. “I’m Officer Smith, but you can call me Jared.”
He was back in uniform, the gun and the shiny badge in clear view. He took a step closer and pulled off his hat, dipping his head politely toward Mrs. Hooper.
“If you’re up to it, I’d like to ask you a few questions. I talked to your friend … ah … ” Jared paused and scratched his head, then dug out a little notebook. He flipped through the pages until he found the name he was looking for.
I wasn’t buying it. He knew Mike’s name, probably knew his damn shoe size.
“Mike. I talked to your friend Mike, but I would like to hear what you have to say.”
Under the stupid assumption that any of us had a choice, Mrs. Hooper motioned to the chair beside my bed. “If you can make it quick, please. She’s tired and needs her rest.”
“Absolutely, ma’am,” he said. “But if you don’t mind, I have to ask you to wait outside.”
Confusion flickered across Mrs. Hooper’s face. “She’s a minor. Surely I’m able to stay in here with her?” She slid closer to me.
“Usually that’s the case, but seeing as Dee is almost eighteen and technically a ward of the state, you’ll need to wait outside.”
I sank farther beneath the blankets and shot Mrs. Hooper a look, one I hoped she’d realize meant under no circumstances can you leave me alone with this man.
It didn’t work. She just patted my shoulder and gave me a reassuring wink. “Ward of the state or not, she’s like a daughter to me.”
“I won’t be more than ten minutes, ma’am,” Jared promised. “I simply need to clarify some statements that Mike made, and then I’ll be on my way. And you needn’t worry. I’ll treat her as if she were one of my own.”
Mrs. Hooper nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure you will.”
Jared closed the door and clicked the lock into place, then stood there staring at me. I glanced at the bathroom, then at the double window before inspecting the ceiling for cameras that might connect to the nurse’s station. There was no way for me to get away.
He caught my fear and tipped his head to the side. “I understand your apprehension, but I have no intention of harming you.”
That statement should have made me feel better. It didn’t, because left unsaid was the not yet. “Then why are you here?” I asked. “What do you want?”
“I want nothing from you. I merely wanted to express my condolences over the loss of your boyfriend.” He leaned over my bed and rested his hands on either side of my pillow, caging me in. “It was an accident, exactly like Mike reported. But remember, accidents happen all the time, and at the most inopportune moments.”
The first tear escaped, and he reached forward to brush it away. I pulled back, never wanting anybody to touch me again.
“No one needs to get hurt, Dee. No one,” he murmured, easing himself away from my bed.
“Officer Smith,” I said as he reached the door.
“Please, call me Jared.”
I had to swallow twice in order to get my lips to form his name. “Jared. Where is Joseph?”
He sighed, as if answering my question, or rather not answering it, was too painful for him to bear. “Forget about Joseph, Dee. Forget about E
lijah and Purity Springs and try to live your life.”
I wanted to do as he suggested. I wanted to forget about what happened to Joseph and Eden … even Abram. I didn’t want to care anymore; it hurt too much. Maybe Elijah’s brother was right. Maybe the only way for me to survive was to forget.
Epilogue
Mrs. Hooper, Luke’s parents, the school counselor … everybody thinks I need to talk to someone, work through the long spells of silence that consume me. So every Tuesday at 4:15 I sit in a shrink’s office, reciting the appropriate answers to his questions: Yes, I’m doing okay in school. Yes, I’ve come to terms with losing Luke. Yes, I’m going to start becoming more involved with friends and school.
His name is Carl, and he isn’t that bad. At least he doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy. But that’s probably because I’ve done exactly as Mike instructed … I’ve lied.
Outside of talking to Mike, I never utter Elijah Hawkins’s name. It’s better this way, keeps me protected and out of Elijah’s reach. And out of his brothers’ reach. It’s not hard during the day, when I have school and Mike to distract me. But at night, when I wake up screaming and searching for Luke … well, that’s when my resolve falters.
Mrs. Hooper comes running into my room each time, begging me to talk to her. I’ve tried a few times, but the warning Jared delivered to me always stops me cold.
According to the doctors, the few memories we divulged while in the hospital were nothing more than delusions. Hallucinations brought on by severe concussions and trauma, or, in Mike’s case, the inability to deal with Luke’s death. They can all believe whatever they want; Mike and I know the truth.
I finally broke down and told Mike about my nightmares last week. He bought me a journal and told me to write my memories in there. I think he’s afraid I’m going to slip up and say something to my shrink or to Mrs. Hooper. I get that; sometimes I’m afraid I will too.
The journal is hidden beneath my mattress. Each night, when the nightmares overtake my dreams, I reach for it and furiously scribble down every detail I can remember. I never re-read my entries, just fill up page after page like my own diary of proof. Proof that no one but me will ever see.
The same people who insisted I see a shrink keep promising me that things will get better, get easier with time. I can pretend all I want, but no amount of time or distance, not even a gravestone bearing Luke’s name, can bring me peace. The only truth I know is that eventually the evil and darkness I struggled to escape will find its way back into my life … back into my soul.
Acknowledgments
Trisha Leaver
This book would not exist if it weren’t for the support and encouragement of countless people. My agent, Kevan Lyon, whose unwavering belief in me as an author makes everything possible. My editor, Brian Farrey-Latz, and the entire Flux crew. My amazing CPs, who read countless version of Creed and never once questioned my sanity. And my co-author, Lindsay Currie, for taking this journey with me.
To my family … you will never know how much your love and support means to me. Meme, who every summer would let me stay up to the wee hours of the morning reading her Stephen King collection. Kyle and his band of friends. Your antics are a constant source of inspiration for my male characters. My sweet Caroline, whose refusal to subscribe to the word “impossible” guides my every move. Casey, whose gentle soul and huge smile reminds me never to take life to too seriously. And my husband, Brian, the keeper of my secrets and the love of my life. Your patience and strength are what keeps me whole.
Lindsay Currie
I’d like to thank so many people it’s ridiculous, but I realize it isn’t possible to mention everyone who made this dream a reality by name. With that in mind, I’m going to rein myself in and keep this simple. A huge thank you goes out to the following people, because without them, Creed would not exist:
My husband John. You’re the creamer to my coffee, babe. Thanks for everything, especially that sense of humor of yours that kept me smiling … even through the rejections.
My son Rob. What can I say, except that you’re amazing? You’ve become a determined and kind tennis player who shows so much heart on the court that I’m proud to say you are a huge inspiration to me.
My son Ben. You’re a champion both in your sport and in my heart. You’ve become a sensitive and strong martial artist whose behavior on and off the mat has taught me what it means to truly give 100 percent.
My daughter Ella. My Little Mama and princess with a heart of gold. You’ve become a true advocate for manatees who reminds me every single day that anything is possible.
I’d also like to thank my parents for encouraging me every single day as a child to follow my dreams, and for reminding me that anything is possible if you put your mind to it.
A huge thanks goes out to everyone who read Creed in its early stages (you know who you are!). We couldn’t have done this without you.
Thank you also to my agent, Kathleen Rushall, for the miracles she works and to Brian Farrey-Latz and the whole team at Flux for taking a chance on Creed—the little book that could.
Last but not least, thank you to Trisha Leaver, my co-author, for writing this with me. I’ve enjoyed every single moment of it.
© Boule Photography
Trisha Leaver graduated from the University of Vermont with a degree in Social Work. She is a member of SCBWI, the Horror Writers Association, and the Cape Cod Children’s Writers. Visit her online at www.trishaleaver.com.
© Alan Klehr
Lindsay Currie graduated from Knox College and is a member of SCBWI, the Horror Writers Association, the YA Scream Queens, and OneFourKidLit, a community of authors with debuts in 2014. Visit her online at www.lindsaycurrie.com.
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