by Amy Cross
“Well,” I mutter, “I guess I do have that kind of face.”
“It was like I couldn't control myself,” he adds. “It was almost as if the anger took hold of me every time I saw you. Every time I even thought about you.”
“I know what you mean,” I reply. “I've been angry lately as well. It's almost as if any time I saw something that threatened to reveal the truth about what had happened to me, my mind responded by getting me all riled up. I was all ready to beat Yasmine up yesterday until Molly stopped me, and believe me, I was never like that before all of this started.” I pause for a moment, as Adam continues to shiver in my arms. “I guess Molly was right,” I continue. “I guess we've all been fooling ourselves, pretending not to notice the little hints that should have shown us the truth.”
“And that thing isn't going to stop,” he replies. “It's coming after us, one by one.”
“There has to be a way,” I mutter.
“Why?” he asks, pulling back. “Why does there have to be a way, Bonnie? Maybe there isn't a way, maybe we're just screwed. Maybe no matter what we do, that thing will get us.” He pauses. “And even if it doesn't, I think I'm freezing to death. Like, if I get any colder, I don't think I'll even be able to breathe. Maybe this is what happens when -”
Before he can finish, we both hear a door banging in the distance. Turning to look along the dark corridor, we wait, and a moment later footsteps can be heard coming closer. I immediately flinch, ready to run, but somehow the footsteps seem so calm.
“Is that it?” Adam whispers. “Is it back already?”
“I don't think so,” I reply, as I spot a figure in the darkness. “I think it's...”
I wait a moment longer, and finally Mr. Dyson steps into view. I swear to God, of all the people I really didn't want to run into tonight, he's pretty much top of the list. At the same time, however, something seems very different this time. There's an expression of shock in his eyes, as if he too can't quite believe what's happening. I want to turn and run, but I figure that if he's in this as well, he might be useful.
“Are you dead too?” Adam asks, staring at him.
“I...” He pauses. “I don't know. I don't know what's happening, but -”
“The shooting,” I reply, interrupting him. “Do you remember it?”
He nods.
“Where were you?”
“Well, I think -”
“Be precise!” I hiss. “When the shooting happened, what's the last thing you remember?”
“I was in...” Another pause. “I was just coming out of the cafeteria, and I saw Malcolm and Jonathan approaching. They had guns and...” He reaches up and puts a hand on his chest, close to his heart. “I think they... I remember a burst of pain, like nothing I've ever felt before. I remember Jonathan looking straight at me, and there was a flash of light, and then...”
His voice trails off, and he seems to be in shock.
“You're dead too,” I tell him. “I guess that makes sense. If you weren't, you wouldn't have been able to talk to any of us.”
“I'm not dead,” he replies, shaking his head. “What the hell are you talking about? There's no way I'm dead! How the hell does that even make sense?”
“Not a lot makes sense right now,” I mutter. “We're just trying to figure it out. Have you seen anyone burn tonight?”
He frowns. “Burn?” Clearly shocked, he looks both ways along the corridor and then turns to head back the way he came. “It's not safe out here. I've seen things, heard things. We have to get to my office.”
“How many of us are left?” I ask.
He stops up ahead and glances back at us. “You're the first ones I've seen in hours. I've just been here, hearing screams occasionally and slowly getting colder. I have blankets in my office. I know they probably aren't much use, but they might help a little. We just need to sit down, stay calm and figure out what to do next.”
Adam sets off after him, but I grab his arm and pull him back.
“I don't like this guy,” I whisper, keeping my voice low so Mr. Dyson can't hear me.
“It's a little late for that,” Adam replies, his teeth chattering with cold. “I don't see that creature around right now, so maybe it can't come into the school.”
“That doesn't make sense,” I point out. “Why would the school magically -”
“I don't know!” he hisses, pulling away from me. “But unless you've got any better ideas, I vote for following Dyson and maybe coming up with another plan.” He glances around for a moment. “That thing could come bursting out of the shadows at any moment. It's got its own logic, but if we can figure that out, we might have a chance. 'Cause right now, we're fighting something we don't understand.”
With that, he turns and follows Mr. Dyson. Left alone for a moment, I look back along the corridor, just as there's a faint banging sound in the distance. I tell myself that the sound is just coming from the pipes, that this is an old building and it settles at night, but after a few seconds I realize that Adam is right about one thing. That creature really does seem to come bursting out of nowhere whenever it arrives, and we don't have a hope of escaping unless we can figure out why and how it's coming after us in such a specific order.
“Hey!” I call out, turning and hurrying after the others. “Wait up!”
Chapter Fourteen
“He's getting worse,” I whisper, as Mr. Dyson and I stand in the corner of the dark office. Over on the sofa, Adam is shivering under a pile of blankets. “It's like there's some kind of cold force inside his body. At this rate, even if that thing doesn't show up, he's going to die of hypothermia.”
“Have you worked it out yet?” Mr. Dyson asks.
I turn to him. “Worked what out?”
“What this creature is,” he continues. “Where it comes from, what it wants.”
I shake my head. “It seems to be taking people in a certain order. It's not just marauding through town, grabbing people whenever it finds them. It's just going after people who are dead and -”
I pause suddenly as I realize how insane that sentence sounds. Reaching down, I rub my hands over my elbows, just to reassure myself that I'm still here, still solid. Deep down, there's a part of me that still expects to wake up at any moment, to find that this whole nightmare is just a dream. Then again, I've felt the same way ever since the shooting, and I never had any luck before. This is no dream.
“Adam was right,” I continue, “there has to be some kind of logic to what the creature is doing. There are rules. If we figure those out, we have a chance.” I look across the room for a moment, listening to the silence. “This is the longest I've gone without seeing it, since the first time. I don't know why, but maybe it really can't get us while we're in the school. Maybe it's something to do with this being where the shooting happened.”
“The creature's mopping up the ghosts of people who died that day,” Mr. Dyson points out. “We might be the last three.” He pauses, before reaching out and putting a hand on my shoulder.
Flinching, I pull away.
“I'm not that kind of guy,” he continues. “Bonnie, you have to believe me. Ever since all of this madness started, something has felt different inside. It's like my own mind was working against me, hiding the truth and making it so I didn't notice what was really happening. I was only talking to the same dozen or so people all the time, just to the students who died in the shooting. I guess somewhere along the way, my head got really messed around.” He watches me for a moment. “I'm really, really sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“It's okay,” I mutter, even though that's a lie. I've felt angry a lot lately, so I guess I know what he means, even if his explanation doesn't completely make sense.
“Can we be friends?” he asks, reaching out and tentatively touching my shoulder. “At least until we figure this out, or until that creature gets us? Please?”
“Sure,” I reply, but I can't help myself and I have to take a step back. I still don't li
ke this guy touching me, and I still don't trust him.
He steps closer. “Bonnie -”
Suddenly I hear footsteps outside the room, in the corridor. A moment later, there's the sound of something bumping against the wall.
“The janitor,” Mr. Dyson says with a sigh of relief. “It's just Bob, the janitor.”
A moment later, the door swings open and a figure steps through. Completely ignoring us, as if he can't see us at all, he glances around the room and then heads back out, pulling the door shut again.
“He always does his rounds in the mornings,” Mr. Dyson points out, before glancing at the clock on the wall. “I guess the school will start filling up soon, which means we need to figure out a plan. We can't just sit around here forever, hoping that nothing can get to us. Do you have any ideas?”
Stepping over to the sofa, I reach down and touch the side of Adam's face. He's shivering more than ever, and when he opens his eyes and looks up at me, I can see that he's in pain. He's so cold, his tears are turning to ice.
“It's okay,” I tell him. “We're going to get out of this.”
“You shouldn't give him false hope,” Mr. Dyson mutters, coming over to join us. “Death is cold. It's inevitable that this is happening to him.”
“It didn't happen to any of the others,” I reply, pulling the blankets tighter around Adam's shivering body.
“Maybe it got them faster. Maybe this is happening to Adam because he's delaying the inevitable for too long. Once he's gone, it might happen to us too.”
“It's not inevitable!” I snap, turning to him. “Don't say things like that!”
“You're a child,” he replies. “You still think everything can be fought, but it can't. Sometimes you just have to accept that certain things are going to happen whether you like them or not. Death is one of those things, Bonnie. We're already dead, all of us. Now we just have to let go.”
“So you want us to walk out there and go looking for that creature?”
“Would you rather keep hiding?” he asks. “It's going to get us eventually, all of us. Probably him first, but then it'll be our turns and we can't hide or outrun it forever.” He watches me carefully for a moment, and then he puts a hand on my shoulder. “However this situation works, eventually you have to face the fact that you'll be next.”
“But not -” Pausing, I suddenly realize that I've heard him say something similar before. That voice that whispered to me so many times, saying “You're next” over and over again... I think it was Mr. Dyson. I watch him cautiously for a moment, and I swear I can see just a hint of irritation in his eyes, as if he wants me to stop resisting. “We have to focus on Adam for now,” I continue, trying to ignore my concerns. I pull away, so that his hand falls from my shoulder. “What about the furnace in the janitor's room?” I ask, figuring we need to be practical. “That thing gets pretty hot, so why don't we try moving Adam there?”
“What good -”
“It'll buy us time!” I say firmly. “If we can keep him alive for a little longer, we might be able to think of something!”
He stares at me for a moment, before shrugging, as if Adam's survival isn't really so important to him. “We can try. I guess anything's worth a shot, right?”
***
By the time we've managed to get Adam on his feet and out into the corridor, the school has started filling up with students. It's almost 9am and people are shouting and running all around us as we shuffle along, but somehow no-one runs straight into us. It's as if, on some subconscious level, they all know to avoid us, even if they can't actually see us. It must have been like this since the shooting, but my brain tricked me into not noticing.
“He's so slow,” Mr. Dyson points out, needlessly, as we get to the door that leads into the yard. “This is hopeless, we should leave him behind.”
I glance at him, shocked. “Are you serious?”
“Survival of the fittest,” he mutters darkly.
“The furnace is in that building,” I reply, spotting the door we need to reach. “Come on, we'll make it. We're not leaving anyone behind!”
“I can't walk,” Adam stammers, his teeth chattering wildly. “I can't make it.”
“You can and you will,” I tell him, with my left arm wrapped around his waist. “You remember the furnace, right? It's warm in that room, it's where they burn all the school's garbage. Even you can't be cold in there.”
“You should leave me,” he whispers. “Save yourselves. I'll only hold you back.”
“Just keep walking,” I mutter, leading him out into the yard. The morning sun is bright and I already feel a little warmer, but I guess it's not enough to affect Adam. Up ahead, Debbie and some other girls are talking, but I know there's no way they'll be able to see me. I guess Debbie survived the shooting after all, which explains why I don't remember speaking to her for a few years. Turning, I spot Josh heading to class, and I realize with a flash of sorrow that he wasn't ignoring me at the bus stop the other day, he just didn't know I was there. From his point of view, I died in the shooting. At least I know he didn't hate me, and that he made it out alive.
“This isn't going to work,” Mr. Dyson mutters.
“Do you have any better ideas?” I hiss.
“No, and that's the point. There are no better ideas.”
“We can't just sit down and let it take us,” I tell him.
“Maybe -”
“Just stop!” I snap, finally unable to hide my anger at his constant negativity. “If you've got nothing better to say, then don't say anything at all! We don't need to hear it right now or -”
Suddenly Adam stumbles, falling forward. I struggle to catch him, but I just about manage to keep him up.
“Steady,” I tell him. “We'll get there. Look, do you see that door over there? On the other side, there's the furnace and -”
“Do you hear them?” he stammers, interrupting me.
“Hear who?” All around us, people are chatting and shouting as they get ready for class, but it's just the normal chaos of a new school day. “I hear a lot of people, Adam, but -”
“They're coming,” he whispers, pulling away from me and looking back the way we came. His eyes are wide with fear as he turns and looks toward the far end of the yard. “It's too late.”
“Nothing's too late,” I tell him. “Adam, please -”
Suddenly I realize I can smell sulfur. Spotting movement nearby, I turn just in time to see the dark, hulking form of the creature making its way toward us, slipping easily through the crowd. Nearby, some girls are practicing their cheer-leading routine, clearly oblivious to what's happening right in front of them.
“Move!” I shout, grabbing Adam and pulling him toward the door. “We have to get inside!”
“You can't fight this!” Mr. Dyson calls after us. “Bonnie, just accept the inevitable!”
Ignoring him, I hurry Adam toward the door, but he stumbles with every step and slowly I feel him putting more and more weight on me, as if he can no longer stay on his feet. Finally he grabs my shoulder, desperately trying to stay up.
“We're going to make it,” I tell him, “we're going to -”
Suddenly he lets out a cry of pain, and a fraction of a second later I feel a flash of heat. Turning, I see that the creature has reached us and has grabbed Adam from behind. Flames are roaring from Adam's mouth, and when I try to take hold of his shoulder I feel my hand crushing through nothing but hot, brittle ash. Dropping to the ground, I try to look up at Adam's burning, screaming body, but I have to close my eyes as the fire becomes too bright. I roll onto my side in a desperate attempt to get away from the heat, and finally the scream stops and all I hear is the cheerleaders nearby, still working through their routine as if nothing is wrong.
A moment later I hear a faint growling sound, and I look up to see the creature leaning down toward me.
“No!” Mr. Dyson shouts suddenly. “Not yet!”
The creature hesitates, with a smoldering hand stil
l reaching down toward me, before finally it takes a step back. At the same time, it lets out a faint, rumbling growl.
“Go back,” Mr. Dyson continues as he comes closer, snapping his fingers at the creature. “Wait for your next command. This has to be done a certain way.”
Stumbling to my feet, I stare in horror as he smiles at me.
“You control that thing?” I ask, my mind racing with fear.
“Why else do you think it didn't attack us in my office?” he replies with a smile, looking down and kicking the pile of ash that used to be Adam. “Did you think the school was some kind of magic safe space? Are you so utterly naive?”
Stepping back, I realize that my suspicions were right all along. I always sensed that there was something weird about this guy.
“You're the last one now,” he explains. “I was lying when I told you I was one of the ghosts. I'm no such thing. They've all been mopped up now, Bonnie, so there's only you to deal with. Just let go of everything and accept the inevitable. I've been giving you that advice all along, you really should have listened to me by now.”
“No,” I stammer, taking another step back.
“What are you going to do,” he continues, “fight back? Keep running? There's nowhere to go.”
“So why haven't you burned me yet?” I ask. “Why haven't you set that thing on me?”
“You need to accept your fate first.”
“The others didn't,” I point out. “Molly didn't accept her fate, and neither did Adam. Or my mother.” I feel a shiver of anger in my chest. “You took my mother.”
“Your own brother was the one who killed her,” he replies. “I'm just mopping up the ghosts. Think of me as someone who sniffs out the carrion remains left behind by other killers. I didn't create all the ghosts in this town, but I don't see why they should go to waste, not when I'm already so hungry.”
