Dark Moon (Nightmare Hall)

by Diane Hoh

  Tony, the boy who had been throwing darts when Boomer was struck kept shouting, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t! See, the darts I threw are still stuck to the apple, see? The dart that hit Boomer came from somewhere else.”

  Eve kept her hand on Boomer’s wrist. As long as she could feel that pulse, feel the blood pumping through his veins, she could tell herself that she was holding onto his life, refusing to let it slip away. His eyes were still open, staring straight ahead, but they were vacant, reminding Eve of the glass eyes on her dolls when she was little.

  The wound was so close to Boomer’s heart. Too close.

  “Where is that ambulance?” she hissed to Garth. Several of the committee members, including Andie and Alfred, had joined them inside the booth, drawn there by the crowd and the noise. Serena hovered near the counter, upset but trying to disperse the onlookers. They ignored her.

  A doctor who had been enjoying the carnival with his family arrived, his black bag in hand, and after shaking his head grimly, wrapped a blood-pressure cuff around Boomer’s upper left arm. When he had taken a reading, he shook his graying head again and was about to speak when the shrill wail of the ambulance split the air.

  The crowd did part, then, to make way for the emergency vehicle, which drove across the carnival grounds straight to the dart booth.

  “He’s not going to die, is he?” Eve anxiously asked the doctor as the injured Salem University athlete was loaded into the ambulance. “I mean, he’s really strong and healthy. That will help, won’t it?”

  “It might,” was the doctor’s cryptic answer. He climbed into the ambulance with the patient.

  Eve asked the same question of the attendant as he slammed and locked the doors. All she would say was, “Can’t say. Stand back, please.”

  When the ambulance had pulled away, its siren shrieking to prove there was no time to waste, Eve sagged against the dart booth’s counter. A handful of suction cup-tipped darts lay on her left. But there was blood on her blouse and skirt, proof that there had been a different kind of dart in the booth.

  She turned her white, strained face toward Garth. “Where did that dart come from?” she asked softly. She picked up one of the rubber-tipped darts, held it up for everyone around her to see. “These are the ones we’re using. These are the ones we ordered. I know, because I’m the one who ordered them.” She scanned the crowd. “Did anyone see who threw that metal dart?”

  There were murmurs and mutterings and the shaking of heads. No one had seen anything unusual. They had all been watching Boomer, laughing as he set himself up as a target. No one had noticed a hand lifting into the air, aiming the deadly metal point straight at Boomer’s heart. As far as the spectators were concerned, the vicious projectile had come out of nowhere.

  But the campus police officers who arrived on the scene would allow no one to leave until their questions had been asked and answered.

  By the time the crowd was released, it was dark. The huge, silver moon stared down upon them, as if, an exhausted Eve thought wearily, it was accusing them. How could you let this happen? she imagined the moon saying to her. How could you be so careless? That boy will probably die, you know.

  “The police will find out where that dart came from,” Alfred said, putting a comforting arm around Eve’s shoulders as they left the booth. “It’ll have fingerprints or a brand name on it. Something. They’ll find something.”

  Eve slipped out from under the arm. “I don’t think so,” she disagreed. “I don’t think there will be any fingerprints at all, or any brand name. I don’t think the police will discover one single thing about that dart. Whoever threw it will see to that.”

  “Well, one thing’s for sure,” Garth said, ignoring Alfred’s angry look, “this wasn’t any accident. You don’t aim a dart like that straight at someone’s heart out of carelessness.” He turned to Eve as they passed beneath the Ferris wheel. Many people had deserted the carnival when the ambulance arrived, and most of the seats on the yellow wheel were empty. “Maybe it was the same person who broke all those mirrors in the maze yesterday,” he added. “At least you weren’t the target this time.”

  “Unless,” Alfred said, fixing a cool gaze on Eve, “the dart-thrower was really aiming for Eve. I mean, you were in the booth, too, right?”

  “Yes, but …”

  Alfred shrugged. “Maybe he was aiming for you, and someone bumped his arm or something.”

  “If that had happened,” Serena said, “the person who’d done the bumping would have noticed something, and remembered, and told the police. I think Boomer was the target, not Eve. Quit trying to scare her, Alfred.”

  “I wasn’t!” he protested, his face flushing an ugly red. “But if someone’s after her, she should know it, shouldn’t she? It seems pretty obvious to me that Eve could have been the one in that ambulance instead of Boomer.”

  The thought made Eve ill. She was a lot thinner than Boomer. That dart probably would have killed her instantly.

  They went into the food tent and collapsed on benches. “I can’t believe,” Eve said slowly, her head in her hands, “that no one saw anything. In that huge crowd, not one person saw who threw that dart?”

  “It’s as if that dart came out of nowhere,” Garth said.

  “No,” Eve shook her head. “It didn’t come out of nowhere. Things don’t just appear out of nowhere. That dart came from someone’s hand. It shot straight out of the hand of someone nasty and vicious and cruel.” She sank into gloomy thought then, not touching the plate of snacks Serena placed on the table a few minutes later.

  “Boomer was making fun of parapsychology this morning,” Alfred said suddenly. “Maybe someone was mad at him for that.”

  Eve laughed harshly. “Oh, Alfred, get real! No one would try to kill Boomer just because he doesn’t believe all that garbage. That’s ridiculous!”

  Stung, Alfred shot back, “Well, you were attacked yesterday in the Mirror Maze, weren’t you? Hasn’t it crossed your mind that you make fun of the stuff in that class more than anyone else? You sneer at practically everything Dr. Litton says. Maybe you should give that some thought, Eve, instead of calling me ridiculous!” And he jumped up and hurried from the tent, his back stiffer than usual.

  “Wow,” Andie breathed, watching him go, “I’ve never seen Alfred so mad. You weren’t very nice to him, Eve. You shouldn’t have hurt his feelings. You know how he feels about you.” Then she stood up and, without saying goodbye, followed Alfred out of the tent.

  Eve shook her head. “I’ve had better days. Like that Tuesday last fall when I had a really nasty root canal.”

  Garth glanced pointedly toward the roof of the tent. The glow of the moon was visible through the hole at the tent pole. “Maybe a full moon makes people do crazy things.”

  Eve flew up off the bench. “Don’t you start that crap! I don’t want to hear a word about the moon or the sun or the stars or people bending spoons with their minds. Not one word!” She was shouting, and heads passing by the tent turned in her direction. She was instantly mortified. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m sorry,” and, like Alfred and Andie before her, ran from the tent.

  Boomer, she thought as she ran, Boomer. Are you alive or dead? How could that happen so fast? One second, you were standing there taunting Tony about how he couldn’t hit Mount Rushmore even if he was standing on top of it, and the next second, you were sliding to the floor with blood on your T-shirt and all of the light fading from your eyes. How? Why? I don’t understand.

  Eve knew she shouldn’t be leaving the carnival site. She was supposed to be in charge, and the games and rides would be open for another two hours. But she wanted desperately to get away from there, away from the music and the noise and the smells, and hide somewhere safe. There were eight other committee members besides her and Kevin. Let them take over the responsibility. Maybe if they did, no one else would get hurt.

  But the old habits of so many years slowed her steps. She had never turned
over the reins to anything in her life, had never shirked a single chore, never failed to discharge her duties responsibly and well. How could she do it now?

  It wasn’t Kevin’s fault that he was in the infirmary. He was counting on her to keep things going until he got back. The school was counting on her. And there was the scholarship in Alice’s name …

  She was just about to turn around and go back when a voice whispered from somewhere close to her, “Eve! Where are you going, Eve? Running away, are we? That’s pretty cowardly, if you ask me.”

  Eve froze. She was standing in the shadow of the ticket booth for the most challenging ride at the carnival, aptly named The Snake. Unlike steep roller-coasters, the ride was placed on metal tracks set relatively close to the ground. But its red and green cars sped along on a torturous route that snapped backward and forward so suddenly and at such sharp angles, complaints of whiplash echoed as people climbed weakly from the cars at the end of a ride. Still, The Snake was popular.

  Quiet now, the cars sat just beyond the booth, awaiting customers. Its music, a pounding rock song, continued to play, but Eve saw no one inside the booth waiting to sell tickets.

  “You’re running because you don’t understand what happened to Boomer, aren’t you?” the whisper continued.

  Eve’s head swiveled, her eyes searching. She was at the far end of the carnival, almost to the exit, and the lighting wasn’t as strong as it was in the heart of the grounds. She saw nothing, no one. Either everyone who wanted to had already ridden The Snake, or the crowds had thinned more than she’d thought after Boomer’s accident.

  “You just can’t stand it when you don’t understand something, can you, Eve? You hate it when you can’t come up with a logical, sensible explanation for something. What a tiny little mind you have.”

  Eve began to back away from the booth. It seemed to be the only place close at hand capable of hiding the disembodied voice. “What do you want?” she managed to whisper.

  “You. I want you, Eve. And I’m going to get you. Just like I got Boomer, another unbeliever.” A soft, evil laugh. “He’s dead, you know. Never even made it to the hospital alive. My aim was perfect, thanks to the power. You shouldn’t have been so contemptuous of the power of the moon today, Eve. You have no idea how strong that power can be. And I get to share in it, because I’m special. More special than you could ever hope to be. Boomer would testify to that … if he could.”

  “You’re crazy!” Eve shouted, continuing to back away, her eyes still darting into the darkness seeking some sign of her tormentor. “You’re just plain crazy! The moon is just the moon, that’s all it is! You’d better get yourself to a shrink, fast!”

  Then she turned and ran, as fast as her bandaged ankle would allow. But instead of racing onward, to the safety of her dorm room, she ran back the way she had come, deeper into the carnival, until she reached the food tent where she had left Garth and Serena.

  She burst into the tent, breathing hard, her face pale and shiny with sweat, her eyes wide with fear.

  Garth and Serena were gone, their bench empty.

  Despairing, Eve turned, and walked straight into Alfred.

  “Eve?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  Chapter 12

  AS UPSET AS SHE was, Eve couldn’t bring herself to share what had happened to her with Alfred. He’d take advantage of it. That was who he was. He wanted to be in charge of something … someone. All she’d have to do was show the tiniest sign of weakness and Alfred would dive in for the kill, ready to take over.

  He had told her once that he’d always wanted a puppy when he was growing up, but his mother wouldn’t let him have any pets at all, “not even a hamster.” Maybe that was why he seemed to be looking for someone to protect. He’d been sent off to boarding school when he was a teenager, and that must have been lonely for him. She didn’t think he made friends easily. Maybe no one had ever depended on Alfred. The only thing Eve was really sure about was, if she confided in Alfred now about the evil, threatening voice she’d just heard, he would be welded to her side like a Siamese twin. That wasn’t what she wanted. She wasn’t about to become the needy little puppy that Alfred had always wanted.

  “Do you know where Garth and Serena went?” she asked instead. “Have you seen Andie?”

  “No, and no. But I have good news.” Alfred followed her out of the tent. “Boomer’s going to be okay. I called the hospital. He might not play football next fall, but barring complications, he’s going to live.”

  Eve stared at Alfred. “No,” she said softly, “that’s not true. You’re lying. Boomer’s dead. I know he is. You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

  It was Alfred’s turn to look startled. “What? Are you nuts? I wouldn’t lie about a thing like that. He’s not dead. He’s going to be fine. What’s the matter with you?”

  He wasn’t lying, she could tell. Boomer was alive.

  Eve closed her eyes and sagged against the wall of the food tent. The voice oozing out of the booth just now had lied to her. It’d said those words just to torment her, torture her, just for fun!

  “Eve?” Alfred bent his head close to hers. “You look like you need to sit down. Here, lean on me.”

  Eve struggled to take in the information he’d just fed her. Boomer was alive! And he was going to be okay. They didn’t have another death on their hands. On her conscience. Her knees went so weak with relief, it would have made sense to lean on Alfred’s extended arm. Instead, Eve stiffened her back and stood up straight. Some of the color returned to her face. “No, thanks,” she said politely. “I’m not going to collapse, Alfred. That’s good news you gave me, not bad. I’m okay, really.”

  “Am I interrupting something?” Andie’s voice asked coolly as she arrived on the scene.

  She wasn’t smiling. That was the first thing Eve noticed when she looked up. The second thing she noticed was that Andie looked a little frazzled herself. Her hair, always unruly, seemed even more chaotic than usual, and her cheeks were flushed. There was a small rip in the hem of her T-shirt, and the knees of her jeans were dirty.

  “What happened to you?” Eve asked, moving slightly away from Alfred. She could imagine how the scene must have looked to Andie, coming upon Eve and Alfred with their heads so close together. And thought, Why can’t Andie realize that if I could, I’d make a gift of Alfred to her? It’s not my fault you can’t give people away as presents. “You look … did you fall?”

  Andie looked down at her clothing as if she’d just realized what a mess she was. “Yeah, I did. I rode The Snake, and I was so dizzy when I got off, I lost my balance. Toppled right over, like an axed tree.” She laughed. “But I wasn’t the only one. Everyone else was staggering all over the place, too.”

  “You went on The Snake?” Eve frowned. “I thought you hated stuff like that.” And besides, she thought to herself, I was just over there and The Snake wasn’t running.

  Andie shrugged. “Can’t be a coward forever, right?” To Alfred, she said, “Where did you go, anyway? I followed you out of the food tent after Eve blew up at you, and you’d disappeared. Where were you?”

  “Eve didn’t ‘blow up,’” Alfred corrected. “She was just upset, that’s all. I don’t blame her. And you must not have been looking very hard, because I was around.” He waved a hand vaguely. “Just checking things out. A lot of people left after what happened to Boomer. We could probably close early if Eve wants.”

  “Eve doesn’t want,” Eve said. Closing early would be an admission that things weren’t going well. She didn’t want to admit that. “The signs along the highway say we’re open until ten,” she said firmly, “so we’ll be open until ten. Besides,” she added, sighing, “what else can happen? Don’t you both think that’s about it for today?”

  Andie glanced up at the moon and joked, “You’d have to ask someone smarter than me. Like the man in the moon up there.”

  Eve followed Andie’s gaze upward. The almost-full moon was pretty
, she’d admit that. Well, not really pretty. More like … interesting, in a cold, distant way.

  “Where’s the rest of the committee?” she asked Andie, and got a shrug in reply.

  “Who knows? Scattered all over the place, I guess. Let’s hope one of them is making sure all of the darts in the dart booth are tipped with rubber suction cups.”

  “I already checked,” Alfred said. “I checked every box. There wasn’t a single metal tip in any of them.”

  Reassured, Eve decided to make the rounds one more time before the carnival closed. But this time, she took Andie and Alfred with her. If the threatening voice came again, she wanted someone else there to hear it, just to prove to herself that she wasn’t losing her mind.

  People did lose their minds from stress. From too much responsibility, too many hassles, too much flak. And the breakdown probably happened faster when the person with too much responsibility wasn’t at all suited for it. If you put the wrong kind of engine in a car, it would break down. She was the wrong kind of engine for the Founders’ Day celebration, so maybe she was already breaking down.

  Someone knew that. Someone had guessed that Eve Forsythe was a phony, and was using that knowledge to hasten her breakdown.

  That made Eve angry. Was someone trying to make her think she was hearing voices? Was that the idea? That stupid voice whispering about some silly “power,” was she supposed to think she was imagining that? Well, she wasn’t. And she knew she wasn’t. The voice was really there, and it belonged to someone. Someone human, someone very real.

  Who?

  Even more puzzling was the question, Why?

  “There you are!” Garth, with Serena, pink cotton candy in hand, beside him. “Don’t tell me, let me guess, Andie. You rode The Snake. That’s why you look such a mess.”

  Andie laughed. “You guessed it. Give that boy a prize! There should be a sign on that ticket booth that reads, RIDE AT YOUR OWN RISK.”