Quickly, Payne made a call on his cell.
“Hey, Archer,” he said, “it’s Payne. Listen, have you seen Blasé today? Talked to him at all?” Payne paused, and listened. “Not since yesterday?
I watched as Payne’s face grew darker. Finally he hung up. He quickly called Chase. I heard the same basic conversation again.
Before he could make a third call, I stopped him.
“Eric,” I said.
I got out of the car and walked towards the front porch where Eric was waiting. Payne followed me.
As we approached, Eric moved off the porch, and around the side of the house. I followed him as he passed through the backyard. He made his way across the field, through the gate, and down the back path by the stream. The same path that I’d walked when I had first talked to Payne.
Payne and I didn’t talk now, but I could feel his fear building as we walked. This all seemed too familiar.
Every once in a while I’d lose sight of Eric only to glimpse him farther ahead of us. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
I watched him walk over a small hill and disappear. I climbed it, expecting to see him again. But when we got to the crest of the hill, I knew why he’d disappeared.
In the distance, Blasé McKnight was hanging from a tree with a rope around his neck.
Behind me, Payne was screaming. We both stumbled forward as fast as we could go.
A few yards away from the body, blown out from underneath the tree by the wind, was a handwritten note.
I hope this makes her happy.
- seven -
Bam Bam vs. Balthazar
The snake slithered up a familiar looking driveway, where a dinged up car was badly parked near a recently replaced bay window. This was Payne’s old house. The one where he’d lived with his father when I first came to Spirit.
The snake gave a sinister sounding hiss as its head rose into the air.
The door swung open, and Payne’s father Balthazar appeared in the doorway. He had a beer in his hand and looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. He stepped out to greet the snake.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” he asked, his voice slurred, as usual. He gave the snake a long, lascivious look. “Looks like trouble to me.”
Journal of Bristol Blackburn
It’s been two days since Payne and I found his cousin dead, and I still haven’t been able to sleep. Each time I close my eyes, I see poor Blasé hanging there, lifeless. I don’t think I’ll ever get that image out of my mind.
I’ll admit, I didn’t like the guy, but I never wanted this to happen. I wish I could have done something to prevent it. Unfortunately, my visions have been less than helpful.
It seems like each one I have is now of that snake. I see it slithering around people I know. Last night, when I finally managed to doze for a few minutes, I saw it go after Blasé. It wrapped itself around him like a boa constrictor. What was weird was that in the vision, Blasé didn’t fight back. When the snake bit him, Blasé didn’t cry out in agony. He just whimpered in despair, and gave up.
I’ve tried to call Payne, but each time I just get his voicemail. This morning I got a text, letting me know I needed to get to school without him. That probably means that I won’t see him at school, or any other McKnight for that matter.
Since I’m not supposed to be alone, I had to get another ride. I can’t say I’m thrilled with who my chauffeur is . . .
“Let’s go,” Grandpa yelled. “I haven’t got all day.”
I rolled my eyes as I came downstairs.
“It won’t kill you to get to the lodge a little late today,” I replied. “What’s the big deal anyway?”
“I like to get there early,” Grandpa responded. “Get in and out of the hot tub before the older generation climbs in. Those ninety year olds never shut up. Your great-uncle Fred goes on and on about his time in the navy, telling the same old stories. Not to mention that he smells funny when he’s dry, let alone when he’s been stewing in his own filth.”
“Ew,” I said as we walked out the door. I noticed that Grandpa didn’t have anything in his hands except his car keys and his cane. “Maybe it’s his swim trunks? Does he wash them at all or just leave them in his locker like you do?
“What are you talking about?” Grandpa asked, as he made his way to the driver’s seat. “None of us wear swim trunks.”
“Ew, ew, ew!”
What I wouldn’t give right now for some mental bleach.
I got in, and tried my best not to look at Grandpa. I didn’t think I could take it.
“So, your pretty-boy boyfriend just said he wasn’t coming and told you to get a ride in?” Grandpa asked, as he tried to start his old jalopy of a car. The engine backfired, and refused to start.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I got a text. And he’s not my boyfriend.”
“You got a what?” Grandpa asked as he made a second attempt to start the car. The engine sputtered a little before it ended with a groan.
“A text,” I said. “You know, on your cell phone.”
“Why would I want one of those things?” Grandpa answered. “If I’m alone and unreachable, I want to stay that way. Hell, I voted against having a phone put in at the lodge, but changed my mind after I had to run out to the street to get someone to call an ambulance for your great-great-uncle Bill. Didn’t get there in time.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That must have been awful. What happened?”
“Heart attack,” Grandpa answered. “Keeled over right in the damn hot tub.”
“Oh no,” I said as Grandpa managed to finally get the car started on the third try. This was normal. “Wait a minute. He was in the hot tub?”
“Yeah,” Grandpa said as he waited for a car to pass before he pulled out of the driveway that was so far away most people could have pulled in and out of the driveway about a dozen times.
“And where were you when this happened?” I asked, although I don’t know why. It’s like when you hear someone tell you not to look at a gruesome accident. You know you’ll regret it, but you look anyway.
“Where do you think?” Grandpa slowly made his way onto the road. “He fell right into my lap.”
“Oh boy,” I said. I closed my eyes and tried to will the mental images out of my head. After a few moments I opened my eyes and decided I just had to ask the next question. “What were you wearing when you ran outside to get help?”
“A look of abject terror on my face,” Grandpa said. I swear I could see him smile. “But it was nothing compared to the look of terror on old Beatrice Beaumont’s face when she saw me.”
“Oh my God,” I screamed and stomped my feet as if I could smash the visual image out of my head. “Ew!!”
“Yeah,” Grandpa said as he stopped at the corner and waited forever before making the right hand turn. “That was pretty much what Beatrice said.”
I closed my eyes and once again wished for mind bleach.
After a few minutes, when we had traveled the span of two whole blocks, I chanced a look at Grandpa again.
“So you know what this means?” he asked.
“That you have zero chance of getting me anywhere near your lodge again?”
“Not that,” Grandpa said. “I mean about Payne being out from school. I’ll bet you anything that the rest of them will be out too.”
“You mean the McKnights.” It wasn’t a question. I had come to the same conclusion. A few months ago when Jared’s murderer had tried to kill Payne and I— the same day I realized that Payne healed from everything—Payne and all of his family had been pulled out of school for the next week. I never did understand why.
“Well,” I said, “I’ll find out who’s there when I get to school. I mean, Hunter won’t be, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Archer and Chase are out too. We’ll see.”
“Some things don’t change,” Grandpa grumbled. “Every time something like this happens
, Varick reacts like the entire Blackburn family is going to go after the McKnights with pitchforks and torches. As if it’ll be us that makes that move.”
“Grandpa,” I said. “Varick wouldn’t think that.”
“He wouldn’t?” Grandpa snorted. “We’ll see.”
I hoped he was wrong. It was something that I was going to have to ask Payne about the next time I saw him.
Finally, in about twice the time it would have taken Payne to drive us, Grandpa dropped me off at school. I told him that I should be able to get a ride home. He made me promise to call if I needed a lift.
“After all,” Grandpa said, “if your lovesick boyfriend thinks you need a ride, there’s probably a reason for it. Bye.”
Grandpa waved and pulled away, his jalopy backfiring three times before it kicked into gear. It drowned out my yell that Payne wasn’t my boyfriend. When I turned around, everyone in front of the school was looking at me.
Yeah, I was definitely going to have to find a ride home with someone else. Anyone.
The mood in the high school was subdued, much like it was right after Eric’s suicide. But there was something different, an emotion or feeling I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Maggie was acting different, too. She was overly cheerful, and I got the impression that she was trying to put on a brave front, but for what or who I didn’t know.
The puzzle pieces started to fall into place once I walked into the cafeteria during my lunch period.
The first thing I noticed was that the normal buzz of noise was higher in pitch than normal. There seemed to be a collective ‘shhh’ as I walked in, and the sound of conversation died down as I passed. Each table went silent as I walked by, only to go back to murmured whispers once I was out of earshot.
“What’s going on?” I asked Maggie.
“What?” She looked nervous. “Nothing. Why would I know what’s going on?”
“Well, my best friend is acting like a lunatic, and everyone in this room is staring at me.”
People looked away as I turned my gaze on them, but it was clear that at more than one nearby table, kids were watching me.
Maggie tried to pretend she had no idea what I was talking about.
“Please,” I said. “It’s not like I won’t find out.”
Maggie looked down, defeated. “Somehow, there’s this thing going around that . . . maybe Blasé killed himself because of you.”
“Because of me?” I repeated. “Are you crazy?” I quickly looked around to see if one of the lunch monitors might have overheard me.
“I know, it’s crazy,” Maggie said. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I guess it was stupid. Someone’s spreading rumors. They’re saying that you’re a bully. Or that you were harassing Blasé . . . being mean to him all the time.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Okay, I wasn’t nice to him the day Eric killed himself, but that’s because Blasé had been a bully.”
“You hit him,” Maggie reminded me.
“Yeah, I was defending myself. He grabbed me first.”
Although I had to admit that there had been a certain satisfaction in bloodying his nose.
“I know, but it happened so fast. I don’t think a lot of people saw him grab you. They just saw you hitting him—and that’s not all. They’re saying that maybe you were bullying Eric too.”
My mouth dropped open as my blood started to boil. Eric was my friend. The thought that I’d have bullied him wasn’t just laughable, but insulting.
“They’re saying it’s no coincidence that you were around two kids who killed themselves,” Maggie said. “And even though you seemed to like Eric, who knows what you said to him when nobody else was around. I know it’s horrible. I’ve gotten into three arguments already over this.”
“Who’s spreading these rumors?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Maggie said, but she had hesitated.
“What?” I urged.
I stared at her, waiting. Maggie rolled her eyes, and looked at me like I was an idiot.
“Think about it. Who’s been in your face since you got here? Who’s been mean to you since day one? Who’s the person who felt Payne should be her boyfriend and not yours?”
I gave myself a mental head-slap.
“Priscilla,” I said.
“Yup.”
“That would be just like her.”
“So what are we going to do about it?” Maggie asked.
It was a good question. What could I do about it? It probably wouldn’t be a great idea for me to find her, pound her and shove her into a cafeteria trash can. Not unless I wanted to really make the entire school think that I was the tyrant.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Just keep your eyes and ears open.”
When the dismissal bell rang, I started to walk home. I didn’t call Grandpa or Uncle Mark for a ride. It was silly to think that I needed watching. I’d walked home before. I could even take the bus if I wanted to, but I didn’t. I wanted the exercise. It had been a horrible day.
Besides, I wasn’t alone.
“I hope you’re not letting any of this get to you,” Eric said.
I looked around to make sure there was nobody around before I answered.
“It’s not fun,” I said. “But the people who count know it’s not true.”
“Like Skylar,” Eric said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I saw her today. She said she didn’t believe the rumors. It was very sweet of her.”
“I know,” Eric said. “She and Simon were holding hands.”
I smiled. “It was very cute.”
“Cute?” Eric responded. “She’s just thirteen. She shouldn’t be holding anybody’s hand yet.”
“Isn’t her birthday in a month or so? And it’s not just anybody’s hand. It’s Simon’s hand.”
Eric folded his arms while we walked. He was pouting.
“He better not try any moves on her or I’ll start to haunt him.”
“Oh, please,” I rolled my eyes. “First of all, you like Simon and you know it. Second, Simon doesn’t have any moves. He’s liked your sister since you guys moved here, and he’s just now getting around to holding her hand. They’ll probably be seniors before he kisses her.”
“Good,” Eric mumbled.
“And third,” I continued, ignoring him. “You can’t haunt anyone but me. I would have thought you’d have figured that out by now. It’s not like the movies. You can’t make people cold, you can’t move things, and you can’t appear to anyone with rattling chains, even on the night before Christmas.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eric said. “You know, this ghost thing isn’t everything that it’s cracked up to be.”
“Well, you weren’t meant to be a ghost,” I said. “I love seeing you, but you should be moving on to wherever it is you guys go.”
“It’s not time yet,” Eric said sharply. “And no, before you ask, I don’t know why. I screwed my life up; I’m going to get my death right.”
“Eric,” I began, but before I could say anything else I saw Eric look behind me with a look of alarm on his face.
“Watch out!”
I swung around just in time to see a very drunk man charging at me, armed with a baseball bat.
“I oughta beat your brains in,” Balthazar McKnight rushed at me, swinging the bat in my direction. “Look at what you’ve done to our family!”
Payne’s father was a drunk with a nasty temper. He used to take that temper out on his son. I can still recall all of the visions of Payne being beat, stabbed, burnt, and even shot. Payne let it happen without complaint, as a sort of self-punishment for surviving the car crash that killed his mother. But Payne could always heal himself within minutes.
If Balthazar hit me with that bat, I wouldn’t be as lucky.
“What are you talking about?” I yelled.
“You!” Balthazar screamed. “My own son wants nothing to d
o with me. My father won’t talk to me. It all happened when you came into town. I hear you even bullied my nephew into killing himself. Now the entire family is in sanctuary, and nobody even bothered to tell me.”
I dodged the bat as he swung again, watching him stumble a bit as he did.
“If your family wants nothing to do with you, maybe you should look at how you treated your son.”
“You stupid little—”
He came at me again, and I moved quickly to the left. When Balthazar tried to turn with me, he lost his footing and hit the ground. I moved in and kicked his arm hard, causing him to drop the bat which rolled away.
“You need to get away from me,” I warned him. “Go somewhere and sleep off whatever you drank. Leave me alone.”
Balthazar struggled to get up. He was breathing heavily, and holding his arm where I’d kicked him. For a moment, I thought he’d given up.
He rushed me again, with his arms outstretched, and his hands reaching for my throat. He was fast, and took me by surprise. I wasn’t able to avoid him this time. I felt the wind knocked out of me as I fell onto someone’s lawn. I kicked up hard, felt my shoe connect with his groin, and quickly scrambled up to my feet as he doubled over.
After a few seconds, Balthazar glared at me, ready to charge once more. He shifted from drunken rage to complete surprise as Dante slammed into him from behind and knocked him to the ground. Before Balthazar could recover, Dante began to pummel him.
When I realized Dante wasn’t going to stop right away, I raced over and grabbed his arm. “He’s done. You’ll kill him.”
Dante gave me a look that told me he was fine with that, but he stopped long enough for Balthazar to punch Dante once in the gut, giving him the chance to clamber to his feet and stumble away, leaving a trail of blood as he went.
Dante started to go after him, but I stopped him. I didn’t want Dante chasing Balthazar down and murdering him, so I stepped in front of him and placed my hand on his chest.
“Just let him go,” I said. “I’ll call my uncle. Let him deal with Balthazar.”
Vision of Serpents Page 9
