by Stine, R. L.
“Hey, Sean, take it easy,” Adam murmured nervously.
“I can’t,” I told him. “It happened two years ago, but I can see it like it was yesterday. Jay’s bloody face. My fists pounding on him until they were raw and bloody too. I scared myself, I was so out of control!”
I took a deep breath. Then another. My breathing finally slowed, and my heart stopped thundering.
“I think that’s why I’m a lifeguard,” I said. “Because if I wasn’t saving lives, I’d be taking lives. Sometimes I just can’t control how angry I get.”
Adam didn’t say anything at first. He blew his whistle at some kids kicking sand at each other. Then he pushed away from the railing.
I heard him flop down in his chair and let out a big breath. “Hey, Sean,” he finally said. “Why did you tell me that story?”
“Simple,” I replied. I turned around and peered at him over the top of my shades. “Because I saw the way you were looking at Alyce.”
Chapter 7
ADAM
Later, as I trotted up the stairs to my apartment, I kept hearing Sean’s voice in my head. I saw the way you were looking at Alyce.
And I kept picturing that other guy—Jay—the one Sean beat to a pulp. Or so he said.
Did he really do it? I wondered.
Sean liked to play jokes. Maybe this was just a joke. Tell Adam a gory whopper and watch the sucker fall for it.
But somehow I didn’t think he was kidding around. Not this time.
I watched his face when he was telling me. Nobody could fake that look. Dark eyes shooting sparks. Lips twisted in anger. Furious, as he said. Wild.
And his hands. Bunched into fists. Gripping the wooden rail as if he wanted to rip it off. He could do it too. He’s definitely got the muscles to rip that railing off and bash somebody with it.
No, not just somebody, I reminded myself. I’m the one he wanted to bash. I’m the one he was warning.
Because he didn’t like the way I looked at Alyce.
As I reached the apartment door, I tried to shake the images away. Forget about Sean, I thought. I can’t let him get to me. I have better things to think about. Better things to do.
Especially tonight.
Smiling at the thought of tonight’s plans, I opened the door and stepped inside the apartment. It’s on the second floor of a two-story bungalow, and it’s kind of small—one bedroom, a bathroom, and a long living room with a kitchen at one end. But it’s close to the beach, and it has a balcony with a great view of the dunes.
Ian sat on the couch, flipping through a sports magazine. “Perfect timing,” he said as I came in. “I ordered a pizza. It should be here any second.”
“Great. I’m starving.” Dropping my beach bag, I kicked off my flip-flops and padded over to the couch. “So what did you do on your day off?”
“What do you think?” Ian grinned. “I checked out the beach.”
I grinned back. “You checked out all the females at the beach, you mean.”
“Not all. Just the young, good-looking ones.”
I laughed. “Find any?”
“Dozens. Hundreds!”
I laughed again. Ian is definitely girl crazy. “And did you manage to find someone to go out with?” I asked. “Or did they all turn you down?”
Before Ian could answer, someone knocked at the door. “Food!” Ian cried, leaping up to answer it. He paid the delivery boy, then brought the extra-large pizza box over to the coffee table.
My stomach rumbled at the smell of cheese and pepperoni. I ate two slices fast, then went to the kitchen for something to drink.
“This thing is practically empty,” I complained as I stared into the refrigerator. “Whose turn is it to buy food anyway?”
“Okay, okay, it’s mine,” Ian admitted. “But I sprang for dinner, didn’t I?” He waved a piece of pizza crust in the air. “I get paid in a couple of days. I’ll buy stuff then.”
I laughed. “I’ll starve to death first. Don’t tell me you spent your last dime on the pizza.”
Ian shook his head. “No. But I need the rest of my money for tonight.”
“Ah-ha!” I cried. “Does that mean you did manage to get a date?”
“What do you think?” Grinning again, Ian glanced at his watch. “Whoa! I’d better get moving.” He tossed the crust into the pizza box and hurried out of the living room.
As I pulled out a carton of orange juice, I heard the shower running. “Hey, don’t take too long, man!” I hollered. “I want to get in there too. And don’t use up all the hot water!”
“What’s the rush?” Ian shouted back.
“I’m going out tonight!” I chugged the last of the juice and walked back to the couch.
“So am I, remember?” he called out.
The shower continued for a few more minutes. As I ate a third slice of pizza, I heard the bathroom door open. “You don’t need your car, do you?” Ian called from the bedroom.
“I don’t think so. Why?” I asked.
“Because I need wheels. Okay to borrow yours?”
“Again?” I asked. “Ian, you borrow my car every night. I haven’t seen it in weeks.”
“Aww—it misses you too,” Ian joked.
I shook my head and kept eating the pizza. Ian has a habit of borrowing my stuff. Car, towels, money, CDs—you name it, he borrows it.
“So, can I use it tonight?” Ian asked. “It’s really important.”
“Okay, okay,” I grumbled. After all, I really didn’t need it.
“Thanks. You won’t regret it,” he told me. “I’ll even fill it up.”
“You’d better,” I warned as he walked into the living room. “The last time you—” I broke off, staring at him.
Ian stood in front of the couch, pulling on a T-shirt that matched his light blue eyes. As I watched, he started tucking the shirt into a pair of black jeans.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing my stare.
I scowled at him. “Aren’t those my jeans?”
He grinned and finger-combed his sandy blond hair. “Yeah. A perfect fit. Nice and soft too.”
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “I’m really glad you approve.”
He laughed. “Admit it, Adam, these jeans look better on me. Besides, I’ve got a date with a really hot girl I met on the beach.”
“Guess what? So do I,” I told him.
“Yeah, but . . . huh?” Ian gaped at me, totally shocked. “You mean you’re not going out with Leslie?”
I shook my head. “Hey, it’s not like Leslie and I are engaged or anything,” I declared.
“Sure, but you know how jealous she gets,” Ian reminded me. “Remember that time she called and my date answered? Leslie was positive you had a girl over here and she went ballistic.”
I nodded. Leslie definitely had a temper. “I’m still going tonight,” I told him. “It’s just one date.”
“Okay, but you’d better hope Leslie doesn’t find out about it,” he warned me.
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the advice, Mom.” Tossing the pizza crust into the box, I went into the bedroom and got ready to take a shower.
As I stood under the water, washing off the sand and sunscreen, Sean’s words flashed into my mind again.
I saw the way you were looking at Alyce.
I turned my face up to the hot spray, picturing the angry sparks in Sean’s eyes and the way his muscles bulged as he clenched his fists.
Shaking my head, I tried to shove the warning from my mind. I’m being a wimp, I thought. Was I going to let Sean scare me? Let his crazy jealousy ruin my plans for tonight?
No way.
I’ve been through enough, I thought. So forget about Sean. Forget about Leslie.
It’s time to have some fun.
I washed my hair, then stepped out of the shower. As I wiped the steam from the mirror, the bedroom phone rang.
“Hey . . . can you get that, Ian?” I shouted.
The phone rang ag
ain.
“Ian?”
No response.
“Ian, get the phone!” I shouted.
No reply. No footsteps.
The phone rang a fourth time.
I quickly fumbled for a towel, wrapped it around my waist, and pulled open the bathroom door.
The phone sat on a table between the two beds, ringing for the fifth time.
But I didn’t pick it up.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t move.
All I could do was stare at Ian’s bed.
He lay sprawled on his stomach on top of the covers, his head hanging over the edge of the mattress.
His arms were flung out from his sides.
His legs were twisted and bent at weird angles, as if someone had snapped them backward at the kneecaps.
I couldn’t see his face. But I didn’t need to.
Ian didn’t move. He didn’t twitch. His back didn’t rise and fall as he breathed.
Because he wasn’t breathing.
Ian was dead!
Chapter 8
The room spun wildly. My stomach churned.
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, bracing myself against the doorjamb to keep from falling.
Ian?
Ian? Dead?
Do something! I urged myself.
But what?
The phone rang again. That’s it, I thought, call the cops. Call 911.
I opened my eyes.
And gasped.
Ian’s body was gone.
Blinking, I stared at his bed. At his rumpled clothes, strewn across the mattress.
I shook my head and blinked again. “Ian?” All I saw were Ian’s old jeans and shirt.
He was never there, I realized. I was staring at his clothes the whole time. Ian had hurried out to meet his date.
I was seeing things, I realized with a groan. Again.
Why? Why was I suddenly doing this?
The phone rang, and I bounded across the room and snatched it up. “Hello?” I gasped.
“Adam?” Leslie asked, sounding uncertain. “Is that you?”
“Yeah.” I took a shaky breath and sank down on my bed. “It’s me.”
“Did you just get in, or something? You sound like you’ve been running.”
“I, uh . . . no, I was in the shower,” I told her. “I heard the phone and when I came out, I . . . I thought—”
“Adam, you sound really strange,” she declared. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh . . .” I glanced at Ian’s bed again. “Ian’s clothes.”
“Huh? His clothes?” Leslie’s voice rose. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know!” I cried. I took some more deep breaths. “Sorry, but when I came out of the shower to get the phone, I saw Ian’s clothes,” I explained. “He tossed them on his bed when he changed . . . and I thought . . .”
“You thought what?” she asked.
“That he was lying there,” I told her.
“So? It’s evening. The room is probably all shadowy,” she declared. “Your eyes played a trick on you.”
“No, you don’t get it, Leslie,” I argued. “I really saw Ian’s body. His dead body. It wasn’t any optical illusion. Besides, it happened this morning too. I thought my legs were missing. I was so sure of it, I freaked out.”
“Oh, Adam.” Leslie sighed sympathetically. “I can’t believe you’re starting to see things again.”
“Yeah, me either,” I agreed. “Dr. Thall was surprised too.”
“He should be,” she muttered. “What did he have to say about it?”
“Not much,” I admitted. “He thinks my subconscious mind is trying to tell me something.”
She sighed again. “I’m really worried about you, Adam. And I don’t think the great Dr. Thall is helping you at all. You sound really stressed.”
“I am, but—”
“Want me to come over?” she asked. “I could rent a movie and bring some microwave popcorn. I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“Thanks, but I’m not doing too well,” I told her quickly, suddenly remembering my date later, tonight. “I’d be lousy company.”
“I don’t mind. Really.”
“I know, but I’m still feeling kind of shaky.” That’s definitely true, I thought. “I’m just going to lie down, okay?”
“Oh. Okay.” Leslie sounded really disappointed.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I told her.
“Sure, Adam,” she agreed softly. “Tomorrow.”
I said good-bye and hung up.
Jerk, I told myself. You hurt her feelings.
But at least I didn’t lie to her, I thought. I’m not doing too well. I’m seeing things that aren’t really there. And I don’t know why.
I really did feel shaky too, so I stretched out on my bed. But after a few minutes I sat up. Just lying there made me feel jittery. Better to keep moving, I thought.
I put on some clothes, then went back into the bathroom to brush my hair. I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked really shaken. Pale.
Get a grip, I told myself. You can’t show up for your date looking as if you were being chased by aliens or something.
I went into the living room and put on a CD. The blast of music made me even more jittery. I shut it off and checked my watch.
Not quite time to go, but I decided to leave anyway. I’d walk along the boardwalk, then head into town. Maybe that would calm me down.
I hauled my duffel bag onto the couch and took out my wallet. As I checked to make sure I had enough money, my stomach growled softly. Three slices of pizza obviously wasn’t enough.
The pizza was cold by now though. I stuffed the box into the trash can, then grabbed a green apple from the bowl on the kitchen counter and hurried toward the door.
As I reached for the doorknob, I raised the shiny apple to my mouth.
The apple’s green skin seemed to melt.
My hand froze on the doorknob.
My heart stuttered to a stop, then began to race.
The apple’s skin kept changing. Wrinkling, sagging. Melting away, until I saw what was underneath it.
A skull.
I was holding a green, rotting skull. I could smell it. Moldy and putrid, with vacant eye sockets and shreds of skin dangling from stumps of black, twisted teeth.
As I stared in horror, the wet apple jaws began to move. “Help me, Adam!” a hoarse voice inside the apple croaked. “Help me. Don’t let me drown!”
Chapter 9
SEAN
Easy, Sean, I told myself as I walked along the path toward Alyce’s beach cottage. She’ll be there. She was only kidding around this afternoon when she said she had other plans.
Wasn’t she?
Sure she was. She’s crazy about me! She wouldn’t sneak around on me the way Cindy did.
The path curved, and I caught sight of the cottage, small and white, with blue shutters and a yellow bug light over the front door.
The light was on.
Yes! I thought with a grin. She’s definitely there, waiting for me!
Some kind of red wildflower grew along the path, so I picked a fistful. Then I trotted up the wooden steps onto the front porch.
I thumped on the door and waited, still grinning.
No sound from inside. “Hey, Alyce!” I called. “It’s me! Sean!”
Still no sound.
I thumped again, harder. “You asleep or something?” I shouted. “Wake up, babe! Time to party!”
Finally, I heard footsteps. I swiped my hair off my forehead and tried to arrange the flowers into a bouquet. A couple of stems broke, but they still looked pretty good.
The door opened.
Kathy, Alyce’s roommate, stared out at me. She wore a bathrobe and had a towel wrapped around her head. “Oh. Sean, hi,” she said. “You scared me, yelling and beating on the door like that.”
“Sorry,” I told her. I pulled a flower loose and held it out to her. “Here. Stic
k this in a vase. Every time you look at it, you’ll think of me.”
Kathy giggled and took the flower. “Wow. You shouldn’t have.” She patted the damp towel. “I better go dry my hair now.”
“No problem. You want to tell Alyce I’m here?”
“Um . . .” She bit her lip. “I would, but . . . I can’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“I can’t tell her,” she repeated softly. “Alyce isn’t here.”
I stared at her.
“Well . . . see you, Sean.” She started to shut the door.
“Wait a sec.” I put my hand flat against the door to keep it open. “You mean she’s not here yet, don’t you? She ran out to do a couple of errands, right?”
“Not exactly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Where exactly is she?”
“I don’t know.” Kathy bit her lip and patted the towel again. “Sean, my hair is—”
“Forget about your hair!” I snapped. “I asked you where Alyce is. Now tell me!”
“I don’t know!” she insisted. “She didn’t tell me. She said she was going out. I think she went to the movies or something, but I’m not sure.”
The sizzling feeling didn’t start small this time. It was already a full-blown fire, burning inside me. Burning so fast and furiously, I couldn’t speak.
Kathy stared at me for a second, then quickly shut the door.
I slapped it angrily, then spun around and leapt off the wooden porch. As I strode down the path, I realized I still held the bunch of wildflowers in my hand.
Slowly, I crushed the red blossoms between my fingers.
This is what I want to do to him, I thought. Whoever Alyce is with, I want to crush him!
With a cry of rage I tossed the red pulp against the blue door of Alyce’s cottage and hurried to my car.
I’ll wait outside the village movie theater, I decided as I gunned the motor and tore along the bumpy road. Wait for Alyce and her date to come out. See who the guy is.
And then I’ll get him.
But it won’t be like the last time, I decided. Last time I made Cindy’s guy wait. Fooled him into thinking I wasn’t serious. Then I pounced.
I won’t play that game this time. I can’t.
