I’m about to give up and go home when something interesting comes into view. A tiny grey kitten hops onto the windowsill and twitches his tail for attention. She stops what she’s doing and rubs her nose on the creature’s forehead. From what I can tell, the kitten returns the affection by rubbing his cheek against her.
Bingo.
14
Annie
There’s another party at the cemetery tonight, but the faithful steed that delivered me the last time has the night off. Copper is delivering pizzas, so he’ll be lucky to arrive just as everyone else does. So, I’m going to have to hoof it in the dark. Alone.
I’m getting rather good at creeping out of the house, if I do say so myself. Someone built a cubby into the roof of the outhouse, I’m assuming to store toilet paper. I’m reaching into the dark space above my head, pointedly ignoring the swing set a few yards away. It’s a shame that my own backyard is scarier than the cemetery I’m headed to.
Squeak…
I freeze. My back is to the swing set. I choose to ignore it. My fingers brush against glass. I grasp the neck of the wine bottle. One down, one to go.
Squeak…
I turn my head, sneaking a peek with my peripheral vision. The swing is swaying. A soft breeze caresses my forehead.
It’s the wind. It’s only the wind.
I find the next wine bottle, and boogie out of the yard as fast as I can. Ghost or no ghost, that swing set has to go. It’s given me the willies for the last time. Only when there’s a decent amount of distance between me and the house, do I slow my pace. I was in such a hurry to get out of there that I forgot my backpack. Which also means I forgot my flashlight. The little sliver of moon provides just enough light to be a tease; casting exaggerated shadows across things that, in my opinion, shouldn’t have shadows at all. I grit my teeth and press on. Navigating the field with its potholes and shin-high tufts of grass is nothing compared to the rolling landscape of the forest. The canopy is thick and unrelenting, allowing only a few shards of light to pass through. I follow an unfamiliar path based on a single memory. The last time I was here, I was on a horse. Plus, I had a distraction. I’m wishing I had paid more attention.
Something grabs my ankle and I go sprawling down an embankment. Either I got tangled up in a root, or some black gremlin has it out for me. Either option seems perfectly plausible at this point. I had been carrying a bottle of wine in each hand, until I went topsy-turvy. The bottle in my right hand went flying. It fell and came to a halt before I did. I heard it break just as I plunged face first into a bed of wet leaves. At least my landing was softer than the bottle’s.
“Shit!” I hiss.
I feel scratches on my face and hands, but otherwise I’m okay, and so is the remaining bottle of wine that I apparently had a death grip on. I smooth my hair and brush my clothes. I follow the slope of the hill, only because I know it’s the opposite direction from where I came. I take a few steps and run into my first tombstone in the dark. I’m swearing and rubbing my shin, but at least this is a positive sign. At least I’m in the cemetery. I bet that’s how the wine bottle broke; it crashed into somebody’s headstone. I’m starting to think that this was all just a terrible idea when I see a faint glow up ahead.
“Finally,” I breathe a sigh of relief.
I weave my way through the tombstones and dip into the little alcove that hides the members of the party.
Out of nowhere, Eugene cuts me off. He looks me over, head to toe, glances at the bottle and looks at me as if I’m kidding. Feeling sorry for me, no doubt, he shakes his head and lets me pass. I know what he’s thinking. One bottle of wine isn’t going to fly any better than Moof’s single bag of Twizzlers.
“Holy hell, what happened to you?” Dawson laughs.
Copper rushes to my side, in no way finding this funny.
“Are you okay?” he cups my face with his hand and studies me.
I should roll down hills more often.
“Yeah, I think so,” I say, melting into the warmth of his hand. Other than a few cuts and bruises, I’m perfectly fine, but I don’t want them to know that just yet. I may need a little sympathy. I hold up the bottle of wine. “I did have two of these, but I broke one when I fell.”
Dawson smirks as if I’ve just pled guilty to a crime.
I survey the rest of the group. Aria and Bentley are missing. That’s a good sign. At least I don’t have to put up with their bullshit. Ever the helpful sweetheart, Bella presses a compact into my hand. I flip the lid and observe the horror. There’s a black streak from brow to chin, as if I’m some sort of Amazon woman with a painted face. I try not to feel embarrassed. There’s no hiding it, now. Copper has already seen it up close and personal. There’s a few burning scratches along my jawline, but nothing a bit of Neosporin can’t fix. I rub my face with my sleeve.
Dawson takes the bottle and flips it in his hand, reading the label. “This is nice. Two would have been better.”
Copper narrows his eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking joking. C’mon Dawson, she’s having a bad night.”
Dawson shrugs. “Rules are rules. Nobody liked putting Bella in there either, but everybody pays their dues.”
Bella smooths the hair from my face. “These stupid boys,” she whispers. “Don’t pay them any mind.”
I smile at her.
Before I realize what’s happening, a pair of meaty hands grabs me around the waist.
“Oh, shit!” I cry. One minute I’m looking at innocent little Bella, and the next, I’m seeing stars. Literally. Eugene has me over his head like a lumberjack with a log.
“Dammit, Eugene, don’t you hurt her!” Copper threatens from somewhere down below.
Don’t ask me how, but I know Eugene is smirking. Probably because he was smirking when I saw him put Jimmy in.
He sets me down long enough to grab me by the wrists.
“In ya go, sweet pea,” he says almost apologetically.
Next thing I know, I’m being dropped. My feet are dangling in thin air and I’m left to the mercy of Eugene holding onto my wrists. I scream and kick and Eugene loses his grip. Or he let go. One or the other.
I land with a grunt. On yet another pile of leaves. Damn if this isn’t a hell of a night.
“Dammit, Eugene! I told you to be easy with her!”
“My arms only reach so far, pal, then I have to drop her.”
Copper’s messy blonde head appears in the opening. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, coughing. “I’m fine. I’m just humiliated, is all.”
Once the dust settles, I take a look around. This crypt is very old. The hole in the roof hasn’t helped with keeping the decay at bay. There’s a coffin on either side of the room, each one perched on a stone slab. The one on the right is missing most of the lid. I don’t know what possesses me to walk closer, but I find myself inching towards the open coffin.
There’s a woman in there, at least what’s left of her. It’s a skeleton with gaping eye sockets. Black, brittle hair hangs from her skull, a tendril of it curling into her mouth and out her jawbone. It’s as if her hair had strangled her to death. Her mouth hangs open, her chin angled to the side. She looks as if she has merely stirred in her sleep instead of being shifted by decay and animals. I tiptoe away from her. Some part of me fears that I’ll wake her up.
I inch to the hole in the roof.
“Let me up!” I scream.
One of them calls something in reply, but I can’t hear them.
“There’s bones down here!”
“Well, no shit, Sherlock! It’s a crypt, what’d you expect?” Dawson’s red, fuzzy head peeks into the hole.
“Let me out!” I demand. “This isn’t funny!”
“Rules are rules, sweet cheeks. Welcome to Vein River.”
“Oh, fuck you, Dawson.” Copper mutters, appearing beside him.
Something black flies in front of my face and I shriek.
“Calm down, calm down, it’s just a
bat.” Copper jumps into the crypt with me. “Damn, I forgot how far of a drop that was.” He grimaces and rubs his knees.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, looking pissed. “Are you?”
I nod.
He looks at the coffin and makes a face. He crouches and looks along the floor.
“What are you looking for?”
He ignores me and picks up a sheet. He then drapes it across the woman.
“I put this here the last time I was thrown in. It must’ve fallen off.”
Although a tad morbid, I find the gesture sweet.
“Why did you jump down here?” I ask.
He looks at me sheepishly. “You sounded scared. Plus, it’s not fair. You intended to bring more wine, it’s not your fault that you accidentally broke one.”
He steps closer to me, his head turned to the side just so. “Why didn’t you bring a flashlight?”
“I meant to.”
“But you forgot?”
“Something like that.”
“…or something caused you to forget?”
I stare at him and he knows he has me.
“Oy! Heads up!”
Something soft lands on my head.
I look up.
Moof clicks his tongue and winks. “I’ll take care of you, girl, it’s alright.”
I look down at my feet. A pack of cigarettes glisten like the Holy Grail.
When I look back up to thank him, he’s already gone.
I pull one out and take a drag. Damn, I really needed one of these. I pass it to Copper and he follows suit.
His yellow eyes glow in the burning ember and I can’t tell if he looks more like a werewolf or a vampire. He’s a sexy sort of something, I’ll give him that.
“I wish you’d tell me what’s been scaring you,” he says without looking at me.
“Why are you so sure something’s been scaring me?”
“I just get that sort of vibe. Plus, you’re practically roommates with the town ghost. If that doesn’t set you up for rattled nerves, then nothing will.”
I laugh with dry humor. “I guess you do have a point.”
He looks at me softly beneath his pale blonde lashes, neither pushing nor discouraging me. He’s merely making himself available, and I want to give in to him.
I allow my body to slide against the wall, my rump plopping against the dirty concrete floor. I take another long drag and decide what the hell.
“There’ve been a few weird things happen.”
He sits down next to me and gestures to my hip pocket. “Bum another one?”
I hand him the pack. He lights another and waits for me to continue.
“There’s this swing set in my yard, a creepy, ancient, ugly thing that belongs in a trash heap. Well, the swing will sway back and forth really hard when there’s no wind. And there’s whistling and things bumping in the night. Sometimes I see this huge clump of black hair in random places.”
“Clumps of hair?” he asks, wrinkling his nose. “That’s weird.”
I snort. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“What does your mother think?”
“She doesn’t know.”
He frowns. “Why haven’t you told her?”
I shrug. “Because everything that’s happened can either be explained away or dismissed. And my mom wants us to be happy here—you know, have a fresh start after the divorce. I just don’t want to ruin that for her.”
“I’m sorry about the divorce,” he says, and I can tell that he means it. “I understand what you’re trying to do, and I think it’s noble. But she’s your mom, she’d want to know what’s going on with you. Plus, you shouldn’t have to carry this alone.”
“But I’m not,” I smile softly at him. “Now I have you.”
In the dust and the dark, with my hair all a mess and mud on my clothes—he kisses me.
His firm, yet gentle fingers cradles my face and pulls me closer. His lips are soft, as I knew they’d be, warm against my mouth. Beneath the smoke of the cigarettes and the tang of the earth, I taste the muskiness of this boy. My boy. The promise of what could be makes me smile between his kisses.
“Woohoo! Getting freaky amongst the corpses, are we? Damn, you two are kinky!” Moof’s head dangles above the hole, along with a grinning Dawson.
I feel my ears turn pink, but thankfully, it’s too dark to notice.
“Party’s over, folks. Unless you guys need more time,” Moof teases.
“Shut up, Moof, and get us out of here.” Copper demands.
Moof does as he’s told and throws down a three-foot step ladder. It helps with climbing out of the hole, but you still need someone above ground to pull you up.
“Ladies first,” Copper whispers as he plants a kiss on my forehead. His protectiveness is palpable, and I want to melt back into him, but instead, I let him guide me to the ladder.
Reluctantly, I turn from him and reach towards my freedom. Eugene pulls me up with little more than a grunt, while Copper waits below.
After we left the cemetery, everything felt different. The way Copper looked at me was bolder and more tender. The darkness was safer, the moonlight was brighter, and as he walked me home, the anxiety of the future melted away.
15
Aria
I can’t believe the freak is dumb enough to leave her window open after she already knows that I’m out to get her. Stupid bitch. Sliding through the window was easy. Finding the kitten was even easier. All I had to do was rip a pillowcase from her bed and snatch the little fur ball from off the comforter. The animal is as dumb as his owner. He acted as if I was swaddling him when I picked him up with the pillow case. He purred until the fabric went over his head, and only then did he realize that something was amiss. Stupid, trusting little fool. He’s hissing and clawing but it’s too late now. The pillowcase is tied in a knot.
I climb into Bentley’s truck and click the door shut softly behind me. “Move before the mom wakes up!”
He shifts the truck into drive and lets it coast down the driveway.
He glances at the kitten I’ve tossed into the back. “You realize it’ll suffocate, right?”
I glare at him. “You think I care?”
A muscle clenches in his jaw, but he knows better than to fight with me.
As we cross the bridge, we both listen for the legendary rat-tat-tat across the hood. Angelina is a disappointment, as always. I’ve teased and ranted and danced across the boards in the dead of night and I’ve never seen so much as a hair. It’s complete bullshit, but Annie is enough of a coward to be afraid of the superstition.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, it seems kind of retarded.”
“You’re retarded!” I snap.
He flinches and I roll my eyes.
I take a deep breath and use the voice I reserve for children. “As I’ve said before, this is only the tip of the iceberg. This is just the beginning of what I’m going to do to her. I’m going to start with freaking her out, and then I’ll gradually scare the absolute hell out of her. I have big things in store. But for now, I’m starting small, work my way up, build the anxiety. She adores that little mongrel, and the idea of me having him will frighten her. If the little beast suffocates or gets hit by a car before she finds him, then that’s just a bonus. And if she just so happens to run into that make-believe ghost during her little adventure, well then—hot shit, I’ve won the lottery!”
Bentley pulls to the curb on the other side of the bridge and kills the engine.
I grab the sack and thrust the wriggling varmint in Bentley’s face. “Here, put it where Angelina is supposed to dangle.”
He stares at me, a mixture of fear and resolution in his wide set eyes.
“No,” he says. “This is your prank. I’m just the wheels.”
“Figures!” I hiss. “I ask one simple thing from you and you turn into a pussy. Fine! I’ll do it myself.”
I climb from
the truck and slam the door so hard that it hurts my shoulder. The kitten growls and kicks.
“Shut up!” I scream, hurling the sack against the side of the truck.
The kitten stops moving.
“Shit…” I mumble, holding the sack at eye level. “Did I kill you, you little fucker?”
Then I glance at the river below. Maybe I should just throw it? I shake my head. No, it’ll hurt her worse if she finds the body. I lay the lifeless lump in the middle of the bridge where Angelina is supposed to dangle her pretty feet. I smirk. This is the giddiest I’ve felt in ages. This is almost too easy.
I turn on my heel to yell at Bentley, but something hits me in the face.
“What the fu…”
Toes. I’m staring at a set of pale, blue toes.
I shake my head. This isn’t right. This can’t be happening. There’s no such thing as ghosts. But there’s a foot hanging in my face. Followed by an ankle, a shin, a gown. My eyes shoot up into her beautiful face—her hideous, beautiful face. Her head rests on her shoulder at an unnatural angle, her lips pulled into a venomous grin. Her eye sockets are empty, but I know that she sees me. She’s staring directly into my soul.
I glance towards the truck. Can I make it in time? Bentley stands in the middle of the road, safe on the other side, his mouth hanging open.
Help me, you stupid twat!
I scream for Bentley in my mind, because I’m too afraid to make a sound. Any sudden movements and the ghost will attack, I’m sure of it. How do I handle this? What do I do? I think back on the legend. Her feet. I’m supposed to kiss her feet.
Vein River Page 7
