Black-Eyed Kids: The Complete Series

by Miranda Hardy

  “I hope so. Have you talked to your dad about letting you go to FSU?”

  Lisa was all set to head to Tallahassee in the fall, and like half of the women of our graduating class, to major is psychology. I was in limbo, however. It was a battle just to send out my application, and I knew he had mixed emotions about my acceptance. I think he felt guilty he couldn’t be completely overjoyed that his son got into FSU.

  “I bring it up once a week,” I reply. “He’s warming up to it. If Level 6 wanted to come after us, they would’ve done it by now.” My stomach flutters at the thought of finally being able to be with Lisa. “Just imagine the two of us going to school together. It’s my dream.”

  “Mine, too.” Lisa sniffles, and it sounds like she’s muffling her crying. “All of this is just temporary, right?”

  “Right.” I pick up the pace, and I finally start to warm up. “My school colors here are just terrible. Black and orange. Our mascot’s the tiger, of course. How creative. We should be the Cape Central Halloweenies.”

  Lisa laughs again. “Yuck! That’s terrible.”

  I hurry up the hill, and the bench near a huge oak tree is calling my name. I’m in terrible shape. Speed walking a mile shouldn’t wear me out too much. “Just three more months, and we’ll be together again.”

  “I can’t wait.” Lisa is about to say something, but she hesitates. “It’s weird being here without you, Tarick, Cadence, and Marcus. And after all I’ve been through, I feel like I just don’t belong. I haven’t gone to any basketball games or anything at school.”

  I say, “I know how you feel.” My phone starts to beep to warn me that its battery is low. “I’m just floating around at school. I don’t have any real friends, but just a bunch of acquaintances. It’s weird coming into a new school as a senior, especially in a small town. Everybody knows everybody, and I’m just this…stranger.”

  Lisa says, “I’ve thought about maybe writing an anonymous note to Cadence’s parents. Let them know she’s gone forever. I thought it could give them some closure. But I think it’ll just make things worse. Without a body, or proof, telling them anything would tear them up.”

  I plop down on the bench, and an elderly couple powerwalks right past me. Just for kicks, I decide to see if I can read their minds. It’s hard to tell the difference between a regular gut feeling and a hint of whatever ESP ability I might have left. I sense they are both thinking about dinner tonight. Or maybe it’s just my imagination. The lady is wearing some strong-ass perfume, though, and her scent trail leaves my eyes watery.

  “It’s tough.” I shut my eyes until the stinging goes away. “We’ll have to figure out something to help give them peace. My dad keeps those secret files locked away, stuck under the floorboards in his bedroom. He’s not sure what to do with them. We’re trying our best to move forward in life, but I still feel like I’m stuck in all this uncertainty.”

  “We both just have to hang in there a little bit longer,” Lisa says. “We’ve been through much worse.”

  Even to this day, Lisa has a tough time falling asleep, as do I. Other nights, I’m out the moment I hit the bed. I don’t think life is going to ever become normal again.

  My phone beeps yet again just as Lisa starts talking.

  “—you think Astid is doing right now?”

  “Probably sucking down a bunch of trees,” I reply.

  This time, Lisa snort-laughs. “We’ll know where she is by the trail of dead foliage she leaves in her wake. Astid, the BEK Tree Killer!”

  I inhale too much cold air, and my laughing turns to coughing. “I wish I had that power. I could kill all the weeds that are sure to sprout in the spring down here.”

  Just a few months ago, we wouldn’t have been able to joke about all of that. Maybe time does heal all wounds, as corny as it sounds.

  “I’m sorry, Mav, I’ve got to go. Mom and Dad are—”

  Damnit. My phone is totally dead.

  I leave the comfort of the park bench and cut through the field to get back to the road. The sun is starting to drop, and so is the temperature. I wait for an old beat up pickup truck to pass by before I cross the street. I peer inside a window shop, and my mouth waters at the sight of all the candy inside. I’m tempted to get some gummy bears, but I left my wallet at home.

  Something strange in my peripheral vision catches my attention. A shiny black Mercedes is parked along the curb less than a block away. I’ve seen a bunch of luxury cars in town, as there’s an element of “old money” in Cape Girardeau, but this thing is an antique. Pristine. Two men wearing dark suits and sunglasses stand next to it, staring at me.

  Or maybe I’m just being totally paranoid.

  Going into the candy store is always an option, but I decide to stand my ground and stare them down. Neither side budges for what seems like an eternity. Eventually, the guy with the slicked back hair motions to his buddy, and they open the door to their beautiful car. With one final lingering stare, they hop inside and start the engine. Neither guy has broken their gaze, and I actually start to walk towards them. It’s like a mental game of chicken, and they finally surrender.

  The Mercedes does an abrupt U-turn, cutting off an approaching Honda. The driver honks his horn at them, but the spooks speed away.

  I will always and forever be looking over my shoulder.

  The End

  COMING SOON ANOTHER DARK PROJECTS NOVEL:

  Gateway Mothman

  by

  Jay Noel

  Read the beginning now…

  PROLOGUE

  It was the day before my senior year when I first saw the Mothman, but the events leading up to it started long before that. Personally, what set everything in motion was the day my twin brother died when we were nine years old, but many would say the beginning of the end started when our brightest scientists started playing with uranium.

  Last year, we read about the Manhattan Project in U.S. History class. Mr. Klaas simply glossed over that part and got into the heart of World War II in the Pacific and spent most of our time talking about the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The atom bomb. Before Big Boy and Fat Man we dropped over Japan to end the war, there was the Manhattan Project.

  Growing up in the northwestern part of St. Louis, at least twenty-five percent of the kids going to my school had a parent who worked for the Matzenbach Corporation in some capacity. One of its divisions worked with the US government and had dumped a bunch of radioactive crap in my backyard back in the 1940s.

  Okay, so the poison wasn’t in my backyard exactly, but it was pretty damn close. Over the years, not much of a fuss was made about the radioactive landfill, but all it took was a simple thing like a horrendous stench to finally wake us up from our apathy. Freshman year, you couldn't go outside without gagging from the stink. It was truly horrible. My neighbors finally started complaining, and people got more organized about getting the EPA’s attention. Meetings were held every week. Neither of my parents attended those meetings, but everyone kept us updated about the lack of progress.

  Bridgetowne had suffered from a devastating tornado just a few years prior that had wiped out a bunch of houses near us. Even though most of the homes and buildings had been rebuilt or repaired, the town was still reeling from the trauma. The last thing we needed was toxic air in our lungs. All the signs that something awful was going to happen were all around us, but we ignored them.

  I had spent that summer hanging out with my friends and working part time. Meanwhile, St. Louis had been a ticking time bomb, and none of us knew it. Up until then, we only dealt with what was directly in front of us. With St. Louis on the verge of catastrophe, the Mothman descended upon the Gateway City.

  1

  Yet another superhero movie, yet another disappointment. Maybe having such high expectations kept me from enjoying these disasters. Sam kept defending the film, saying that I was being a geek-snob. Of course, she would say that, since she never read the actual comic books. Shaun and Joe were on
her side, but I was sticking to my guns.

  "But Jonah, if you make the movie too much like the comic books, you're going to turn off the typical moviegoer," Sam said as she got in my car.

  I slid behind the steering wheel. It was August, but it felt like October. Inside my car, it was more like November. "I totally get it. They have to make the money, but they don't have to utterly destroy the story lines and make all the superheroes look like idiots in the process."

  "I dunno. I think it was literally kick ass," Joe said as he and Shaun took the back seat. "I read the comic books, but I don't see a problem with the movie."

  Shaun easily stood six-foot five, and he let out a grunt when he scrunched his lanky body and settled into the seat. "Special effects kicked ass."

  "It's always about the special effects with you," I said without turning around to look at him. "I'm talking about the story. What they did to the story was...sacrilegious."

  Sam fiddled with her pony tail and gave me a sideways grin. "I'm too hungry to argue. I'm starving. Let's get some pizza or something."

  "You're just pissed because I'm right and you're wrong." I started the car and turned on the headlights. "How about the Chinese buffet?"

  "Dude, no!" Joe slapped the back of my headrest. "Damn, Jonah. Why do you love going to that place? They serve dog meat there."

  I put the car in drive and pulled out slowly before joining the long line of cars trying to get out of the parking lot. "They do not. That's such a myth. Besides, I thought there wasn't a buffet you didn't love."

  Joe didn't appreciate the fat joke and flipped me off. "The last time I ate there, I literally got the runs."

  Shaun gave Joe a quick jab to the shoulder. "You got sick from the soft serve ice cream. They probably don't clean that machine out. You had four or five bowls of that crap."

  "Of course." Sam crossed her thin arms. "I say pizza and you want Chinese food."

  "You're biased since you're Chinese," Joe said with a chuckle.

  I slam on the brakes hard enough to nearly give everyone whiplash. "Take that back, dumbass."

  Joe rubbed his neck. "Oh, so sorry. Vietnamese."

  My friends all knew my biggest pet peeve. I hated how people lumped all Asians together, and Joe knew I hated being called Chinese. He must not have been too ticked off, because he didn't call me a Chink.

  Sam stopped pretending to be mad and turned on the radio. "Actually, Chinese sounds good. I've got a hankering for some crab rangoonies."

  "Hell yeah." I turned onto Rock Road and started for the Chinese buffet. "I don't know who General Tso is, but he's makes some mighty fine chicken."

  "Now I'm hungry," Shaun chimed in.

  "I have to watch my sodium intake," Joe said in almost a whisper. "I might have to get an actual blood test the next time I see my doctor."

  I was afraid of needles too, but Joe was afraid of everything. "It's just a quick prick on your finger. No big deal."

  "No, they'll literally have to stab my arm with a big needle and get a bunch of tubes this time." Joe leaned back and covered his face. "Maybe it'll just be vegetables and a little rice for me."

  "It's a buffet, man," I said in an effort to try to make him feel better. "You can have anything you want. And I'm pretty sure the soft serve ice cream is low in sodium, if you don't mind getting the Hershey-squirts again." The entire car cried out in disgust, but I couldn't help but laugh. Hersey-squirts was one of my all-time favorite vulgar phrases.

  The Rock Road was a main road that cut through Bridgetowne, but the traffic that night was thin. It had to be only nine o'clock. For a Saturday night before the beginning of the new school year, things were pretty dead.

  "Can you turn on the heater, just on my feet?" Sam asked.

  I shook my head. "It's freaking August. I'm not turning on the heater."

  "But it's cold!" Sam reached out to the controls. "Just for a second."

  I was about to say something about her always being cold when a feeling of dread came over me. For the last nine years, I had become very acquainted with what a panic attack felt like. I had them all the time. But this was different. Everyone in the car had become totally silent, and the fearful look in Sam’s eyes freaked me out even more.

  From my rearview mirror, Shaun and Joe looked straight ahead with their mouths drawn slightly open. The song on the radio faded until nothing but static came out of the speakers. Sam switched channels, only to find more static.

  "What the hell is going on?" Joe asked nobody in particular.

  On the other side of the Rock Road, a rusted blue, beat-up old truck drove past us. The driver was an old guy, and he glanced at me with such a weird look on his face, that I let out a gasp. He looked like a living skeleton with big eyes that bulged out of his sockets. His face looked like thin leather pulled tightly over his bony skull. We made eye contact for just a split second, but the smirk he flashed me gave me the chills, as if he knew something I didn't. Or maybe that he knew about some dirty secrets I was hiding.

  "Is your radio broken?" Sam asked me.

  "It shouldn't be. It was working just fine a second ago," I replied.

  Shaun leaned his long body towards us in the front. "Do you feel that?"

  "Feel what?" I asked.

  "I can't explain it," he answered.

  Joe pulled out his phone, but didn't turn it on. "I feel like something really bad is going to happen."

  I slowed the car down to thirty, and the jalopy truck continued down the Rock Road until it turned off and disappeared. At that moment, it felt like we were the only car on the street. In the city. In the entire world. The old mall that was being rehabbed was on our right, and the school administration building was on our left. Even the streetlights seemed to dim, going from their usually bright white to a dull orange.

  Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and Sam must have seen it too. She pressed her face against the side window, her breaths coming out so heavy, she fogged it up. At first, I thought an airplane was crashing towards us from overhead.

  "What...what did you see?" Joe asked.

  I pulled over and tried my best to look out the front windshield. "I saw it too."

  "Was it a UFO?" Shaun asked. "I've always wanted to see one!"

  I opened my side window and stuck my head out. The sky was absolutely clear, and the stars were out in full-force tonight. "I saw something too. It was flying, and it's most definitely unidentified. I guess, yeah, it's a UFO."

  Shaun unlocked his door. "Cool, let's get out and see."

  I put the car back in park but kept the engine running. Joe stayed in the car as the rest of us stepped out onto the sidewalk and searched the night sky for whatever dark object had flown right above us a second ago.

  "It couldn't have been a plane," Sam said as she kept her gaze skyward. "Their engines make sounds. Whatever it was, it made no sound at all."

  Shaun shook his head. "Man, did I miss it? What did it look like?"

  I started to feel dizzy from staring up at the sky for so long, so I closed my eyes. "Honestly, the damn thing had wings."

  "That's exactly what I saw!" Sam grabbed my arm. "Like a giant bird."

  "A bird?" Shaun shrugged his shoulders. "Seriously? I'm getting back in the car. It's too cold out here to be birdwatching."

  I knew what I had seen, and I continued to watch the sky for it. "It was no ordinary bird. It was huge."

  "Whatever." Shaun opened the door, but Joe got out and joined us.

  Joe had his phone on, and he kept glancing up at the sky and then back down to his phone. "It was probably a vulture or something. They can get pretty big.”

  Sam stopped craning her neck. "That makes sense."

  It might have been a vulture, but there was no ignoring that heavy feeling of fear that wouldn't let go of me. "Am I the only one having a weird panic attack?"

  Joe put his phone away. "No."

  "No." Sam's eyes grew large, and she looked like she wanted to
get back in the car. "And where is everybody? I know ever since the mall shut down, this stretch of the road gets pretty quiet, but it's Saturday night."

  I got out my phone and checked the time. "Yeah, and it's not that late." I did my best to relax. "The Chinese buffet is only open for another twenty minutes, so we'd better hurry."

  Sam had only taken one step towards my car when the giant bird swooped towards the abandoned mall. It was so dark, and the animal was so far away, it was impossible to discern any details. It had wings, but they didn't flap. It reminded me of how hawks flew, just gliding in the air.

  "There it is!" Joe got out his phone to snap a picture, but I knew he wouldn't be able to take a clear one.

  Shaun kept his hand on the open door. "Holy crap, that is a huge-ass bird!"

  I shut my eyes before opening them again. "Can vultures get that big?"

  We watched it fly away in the direction of my subdivision. Some of our neighbors owned guns, and if they saw that thing flying around, they'd shoot it and hang it up on their wall.

  "It's not a vulture," Sam whispered.

  Joe frowned from the low quality pictures he had just taken on his phone. "What makes you so sure?"

  Sam gave me the most serious look. It terrified me. "Vultures don't have hands and feet."

  HARDLY A WORD WAS SAID during dinner. As if seeing the weird flying creature just minutes ago wasn't enough, another chain of mysterious things happened immediately after.

  Once we got in the car and I started driving, Sam gave the radio another try. Sure enough, it was working just fine. She found a news station on the AM band, hoping to hear about witnesses who had seen the giant flying monster, but the biggest news story was about how the Cardinals were on a six-game winning streak.