High Tide (9781481413824)

by Stine, R. L.

  Joy’s face.

  As the scooter cut into a sharp turn, the girl laughed and tossed her head again.

  And her long blond hair whipped out behind her.

  Not Joy, I thought.

  Mitzi!

  But who’s the guy? It’s supposed to be me, but I’m already in the water, watching.

  So who’s riding the water scooter with Mitzi?

  As I stared, the scooter leapt over another wave, rose into the air, and slapped down hard. A second wave rose up, tossing the scooter sideways.

  Tossing Mitzi into the water.

  No! I thought, my heart pounding harder. It’s happening again!

  The water scooter spun around. Picked up speed as it aimed straight for Mitzi.

  Stop! I wanted to yell. Can’t you see her? She’s right in front of you. Turn back!

  But the words seemed trapped inside me.

  And the water scooter kept zooming across the water, roaring closer and closer to Mitzi.

  My eyes burned as I strained to see better. Who’s the guy on it? Why can’t I see his face?

  Who is he?

  The scooter roared faster and faster. Now it was almost on top of Mitzi. Not slowing. Not turning.

  No! I thought. Nooo!

  A horrified scream pierced the air.

  And the white, frothy waves turned bloodred as the water scooter slammed into Mitzi’s body.

  No! my mind screamed again. I plunged under a wave, then began swimming toward Mitzi. I had to get to her. Had to save her!

  Hang on, Mitzi! I thought as I stroked through the water. I’m coming. Hang on!

  My arms ached and my chest burned, but I kept fighting my way through the waves. If I can get to her in time, I can save her! I told myself. Keep going!

  A strong wave swept over me, knocking me under. I surfaced quickly and glanced around. I yelled Mitzi’s name over and over.

  No answer.

  I glanced around again. The water suddenly seemed flat. Flat and calm and empty.

  And bloodred . . .

  Mitzi was nowhere in sight.

  I tried, Mitzi! I screamed in my mind. I just couldn’t make it in time!

  I tried! I screamed again.

  And sat bolt upright in bed, blinking in the darkness.

  Blinking away the nightmare. Another nightmare.

  How many times would I have it? I wondered with a shiver of horror.

  But wait.

  This wasn’t the same dream. Not the same at all.

  A chill ran down my back as I thought about this dream.

  And realized that something was very different.

  This time, someone else ran over Mitzi.

  It wasn’t me on the water scooter. I was in the water. I was swimming to save her.

  What did it mean? Why had the dream changed?

  I shivered again. My clothes still felt damp and cold. Next time, don’t go to sleep in a fog-drenched sweatshirt, I told myself.

  I started to get up.

  And froze.

  A shape moved at the far end of the darkened bedroom.

  The floor creaked.

  The shape moved again.

  Silently. Slowly.

  Someone was in the room, slipping across the floor toward my bed.

  “Who’s there?” I cried.

  Chapter 22

  I jumped to the floor, my fists clenched. “Who is it?” I croaked.

  The shape moved again. “It’s only me,” Ian’s voice murmured from the shadows. “Take it easy.”

  “Oh, man.”

  I fell back across the bed and sighed. “I was ready to pound you to dust. What made you sneak in here like that anyway?”

  “I wasn’t exactly sneaking.” Ian pulled off my windbreaker and shook it, spraying me with drops of water. “I live here too, remember?”

  “Yeah.” I sat up and rubbed my face.

  “Anyway, it’s kind of late,” Ian explained. “And when I came in, I could tell by your breathing that you were asleep. So I tried to be quiet.”

  He made his way to the closet, flipping the light switch on the way. “Guess I wasn’t quiet enough. Sorry to wake you, Adam.”

  “You didn’t.” I rubbed my face again, groaning a little. “I was already awake.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he hung the jacket up. “You okay?”

  “I had another nightmare,” I told him. “About Mitzi and the water scooter.”

  “Oh, man. Just what you need.” He shook his head. “I guess what happened on the beach this afternoon brought it all back, huh?”

  “I guess.” I sighed. “But it was weird, Ian. The nightmare was different this time.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. His expression turned to concern. “What do you mean?”

  I frowned, trying to remember. I could hear the sound of the water scooter. See the flash of blue. Feel myself struggling in the choppy waves. Feel my heart pounding with fear as the scooter roared closer and closer to Mitzi.

  But I couldn’t hold on to the rest of the dream. The pieces kept slipping away.

  “What do you mean?” Ian repeated.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “Something was different about it, but I can’t remember now. It’s gone.”

  “Well, at least it’s over.” Ian snapped off the light and dropped onto his bed. “Did you call Dr. Thall today?”

  “Tomorrow,” I muttered, still thinking hard about the nightmare.

  “You should definitely talk to him,” Ian said, yawning. “Think you can get back to sleep?”

  “Maybe,” I replied.

  Ian was out in about thirty seconds.

  I stayed sitting on my bed, staring into the shadowy room. The dream had almost faded completely now. Only the feeling stayed with me.

  Something had been different about it.

  But what?

  Ian rolled over in his bed and began snoring softly. I heard the waves outside, and the patter of raindrops against the window.

  With a sigh, I stood up and went to the dresser to find something dry to sleep in.

  What difference did it make about the dream anyway? I asked myself.

  So it was different. Big deal. Dreams are always weird. Always changing.

  Besides, the nightmare is over, I reminded myself. For now anyway.

  But when will it be over for good? I wondered, yanking off my damp sweatshirt.

  When will I ever have another peaceful night?

  • • •

  Pounding rain woke me the next morning. Large raindrops hit the window like bullets and drowned out the sound of the ocean surf.

  I sat up groggily, then squinted at the clock-radio. Ten-thirty. With a yawn, I turned the radio on.

  “No chance for fun in the sun today, beach lovers!” the announcer declared cheerily. “The forecast calls for driving rain and gusty winds well into the evening. Beaches are closed to swimming, water-skiing, and all water craft. Unless you’re a fish, you might as well plan to stay inside today.”

  I snapped the radio off and stretched. No work today, I thought. Good. I could use a day off.

  Yawning again, I gazed around the room. Ian’s bed was rumpled and empty. Already at work, I thought. The boat-rental place never closes unless there’s a hurricane.

  Still groggy from my troubled sleep, I stumbled into the shower. As I stood under the hot spray, bits and pieces of last night’s dream flashed into my mind.

  The water scooter rocking across, the waves.

  Mitzi falling off.

  The scooter spinning around, cutting toward her through the water.

  The blood.

  Then what? Something different, but what?

  Forget it, I told myself. Don’t try so hard. Maybe it will come back to me if I just put it out of my mind.

  As I shook the dream away, another image flew into my head.

  Joy.

  Floundering in the waves. Screaming desperately for me not to leave her alone.


  Not to let her drown.

  Another nightmare.

  I shivered in spite of the hot, steamy shower. Could I ever put that nightmare out of my mind?

  I shut the water off. Then I got dressed and hurried into the living room. My stomach had been growling since I woke up. Might as well feed it, I thought. It couldn’t care less about your nightmares.

  The cereal bowl still sat on the coffee table in a puddle of milk. I cleaned it up, then opened the refrigerator.

  Three cans of soda. An almost-empty carton of milk. One apple, half a chocolate bar, a piece of cheese with blue-green fuzz growing on it.

  My stomach grumbled again.

  You’ve got a choice, I thought. Stay here and starve. Or slosh through the rainstorm to the grocery store and stock up on supplies.

  Definitely the store, I decided. It’s better not to sit around anyway. If I sit around, I’ll just think. Better to keep moving, even if I do get soaked.

  Ian had borrowed my new windbreaker again. As I searched through the closet for my old one, I suddenly thought of Leslie.

  She worked the morning shift at the coffee shop next to the grocery. She’d be there now.

  Go see her first, I told myself. She was furious the other night, but she didn’t mean what she said. Besides, I missed her. I should try to make up with her.

  Do it now, I ordered myself.

  Shrugging into the old jacket, I jammed a baseball cap on my head and hurried to the door.

  As I reached for the knob, the phone rang. I went back to the kitchen and picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Be careful,” the hoarse voice whispered.

  “Who is this?” I demanded. “What do you want?”

  “You’ll find out,” the caller whispered. “Soon.”

  The dial tone hummed in my ear. The caller had hung up again.

  Somebody’s after me, I thought with a shiver. But who? Sean? Leslie? Was Leslie angrier than I thought?

  At least I’m not imagining this, I told myself as I stared at the receiver. I can still hear the dial tone. I heard the voice and the words. The threat is real.

  With another shiver, I hung up the phone, then left the apartment.

  Outside, the wind slammed against me, almost knocking me sideways. Raindrops pelted my face and dripped down the back of my neck.

  As I hurried down the path and into town, I kept glancing over my shoulder. But no one followed me.

  By the time I reached the coffee shop, the rain had started to soak through my jacket. The little bell over the door jangled as I hurried inside. I slammed the door against a gust of wind, then stood there, dripping and glancing around.

  Not much business this morning. Only a couple of men sat at the counter, eating eggs and chatting with the waitress.

  Leslie sat in a back booth, sipping coffee and gazing out the window at the lashing rain.

  She must be on a break, I thought. Perfect timing.

  As I walked toward the booth, my sneakers squished loudly.

  Leslie turned away from the window, and her gray eyes narrowed when she saw me.

  Still angry.

  Angry enough to threaten me?

  I didn’t know.

  I stopped in front of the booth and took a deep breath. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She gazed at me for a couple of seconds, then drank some coffee. “You’re dripping on the table, Adam.”

  “Sorry.” I ripped off my hat and jacket and tossed them onto the seat. Then I slid in after them and faced Leslie across the table. “Leslie, listen,” I started. “About the other night—”

  “Forget it,” she interrupted. She tucked her dark hair behind her ears and stared out the window again.

  “I don’t want to forget it,” I told her. “I want to talk about it. Clear the air, you know?”

  “The air’s already clear,” she declared coldly. “You lied to me. You told me you were feeling bad, and then you went out with somebody else.”

  “I know,” I admitted. “It was a lousy thing to do.”

  “No kidding.”

  “But I went out with her only that one time,” I insisted. “I know I made a mistake. I don’t even want to see her again. It wasn’t that big a deal.”

  “Obviously not,” she snapped. “Since you went out with two girls the very next night.”

  I frowned. “But Raina and Joy—’ ”

  Leslie held up her hand. “I know, I know. Old friends from high school, right?”

  “Right,” I agreed.

  “Maybe so, but it doesn’t matter.” She leaned toward me across the table. “Adam, I cared about you. I worried about you. About your nightmares. Your hallucinations . . .”

  She sighed. “I thought you were getting worse or something. And then I find you out dancing and having a great time! How do you think that made me feel?”

  “Rotten,” I replied.

  “Good guess.” She picked up her cup, then slammed it back down on the table. “Rotten and furious!”

  “Okay, okay.” I sighed. “I guess coming here wasn’t such a great idea.”

  Leslie didn’t speak.

  I started to slide out, but then I stopped. “You know, I thought you’d be more sympathetic after what happened yesterday afternoon,” I blurted out.

  “Huh?” Leslie looked confused. “What happened?”

  “Don’t you listen to the radio or read the newspaper?” I asked. “A girl drowned in the ocean yesterday. A girl I couldn’t save!”

  She gasped. “Huh? Are you serious?”

  “No, it’s just a big joke,” I said sarcastically. “Of course I’m serious. I was there! I tried to save her, but I couldn’t. I was too late.”

  I shook my head. “You ought to know I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”

  Leslie bit her bottom lip. “I watched the news last night,” she told me. “They didn’t say anything about a drowning.”

  She reached down beside her and slapped a newspaper on the table. “And this is today’s paper. Look.”

  Leslie flipped the paper around and showed me the main headline: TOURIST BEACH RENTALS A RECORD HIGH.

  “A drowning would definitely be the biggest story, right?” she asked.

  “Let me have that!” I snatched the paper and scanned the rest of the front page. No story about Joy.

  I suddenly felt cold all over.

  I frantically riffled through the rest of the paper, reading every headline.

  No news story about Joy.

  Nothing at all.

  Chapter 23

  “What’s wrong, Adam?” Leslie demanded. “What’s happening?”

  I stared at her. “I’m not sure,” I muttered in a shaky voice.

  Ian said it was real, I remembered.

  Ian said it wasn’t a hallucination. It really happened.

  “It—it happened,” I stammered. “Leslie, it really happened. Joy drowned yesterday. For some reason, the newspaper is trying to keep it secret.”

  “Adam, you’re not making sense!” she cried. “And your face is so pale. Are you okay? Do you feel faint? Put your head down on the table or something!”

  “No, I . . . I’m okay. I mean . . .” I grabbed my jacket and hat and slid out of the booth. “Listen, I’ve got to get out of here, Leslie. I need some air.”

  She started to say something, then bit her lip. “Fine,” she told me with a shrug. “Don’t tell me anything. Don’t explain. Just go!”

  I knew she was angry all over again, but I couldn’t help it. What could I tell her? How could I explain anything? I didn’t know anything!

  Throwing on my jacket, I hurried outside. The rain had let up a little. But a thick, swirling fog had rolled in.

  Keeping my head down, I hurried across the road, then took the path that led to the boardwalk.

  No one strolled along the wooden walkway today. I had the whole place to myself. Perfect for thinking. For figuring things out.

  Except I couldn’t figure anythin
g out.

  Why didn’t the newspaper have the story about Joy? A drowning at Logan Beach during tourist season had to be a major story.

  The paper should have plastered it on the front page. The TV should have sent reporters and a camera crew. Everyone in town should be talking about it.

  Why weren’t they?

  Ian knew about it. He said the police were there. He said the head lifeguard brought me home.

  He felt so bad for me. He knew how a second ocean tragedy would mess me up.

  Mess me up . . . mess me up . . .

  My head spun. So much to think about. So much to figure out.

  What about last night? I wondered. I saw Joy on the beach. Heard her speak. Found her footprints.

  Except it couldn’t have been Joy.

  Joy is dead.

  Drowned. Because of me.

  I should call Dr. Thall the second I get home, I told myself.

  Confused and scared, I walked on through the thick fog to the end of the boardwalk. As I started down the wooden steps, a voice called to me.

  “Adam? Why, Adam?”

  I spun around.

  A girl stood a few feet down the boardwalk, staring at me. I couldn’t see her face.

  “Why, Adam?” she repeated in a sad, lost voice. “Why did you let me drown?”

  I shook my head, blinked hard.

  “Are you real?” I asked her. “Joy—is it you? Are you alive?”

  She didn’t answer.

  The thick fog swirled around her. She faded into it, as if part of the fog.

  As if made only of mist.

  “I—I can’t see your face,” I stammered. “Joy—is it you? Please tell me. Is it you?”

  “Adam . . .” She called my name again in that soft, faraway voice. “Adam . . .”

  “Joy, I tried to save you!” I cried. “You’ve got to believe me!”

  I held out my hand. “I tried to save you. You know I wouldn’t just leave you out there. I came for you, Joy—but I was too late!”

  The wind shifted. The fog swirled.

  As the fog drifted around her, Joy faded into it. I squinted, struggling to see her face.

  Stop her! I thought Don’t let her get away.

  Go after her. Grab her arm and shake it. Go find out if she’s real or not!

  But I couldn’t move. I stood frozen as the wind gusted again. The fog rose and fell like a thick gray blanket.