Dark Moon (Nightmare Hall)

by Diane Hoh

  The rain was pelting down even harder, and it was hard to tell exactly where on the tracks she was now. The far side, away from the controls? There, off to her left in the distance, she could make out a large building—it had to be the top of the administration building. That meant … that meant that they were just about to whiz around the last, nasty curve before plunging into the section she felt would give her the best chance of jumping unseen.

  Still clutching the rail, Eve sat up very straight. She leaned over the side of the car, hoping to see something, anything, that would give her hope. She saw nothing but a thick wall of rain.

  If she jumped at the wrong moment, if she picked the wrong spot, if she landed the wrong way …

  “Oh, God, I can’t do this,” she cried aloud. “This is insane! It’s too fast, I’m off-balance, I’m too tired …”

  “Hey, Ee-vie!”

  She could barely hear the voice above the roar of the ride.

  “Ee-vie, isn’t this a blast? I hope you’re holding on. Are you holding on, Evie? Pretty soon, you’ll be too tired to hold on, you know. Then the power will lift you right up and out of that seat, and you’ll take flight. Probably always wanted to fly, right, Evie? Wild, loud laughter.

  Eve stood up, leaned as far over the side of the car as she dared, and jumped.

  Chapter 17

  “EVE? EVE, ARE YOU awake?”

  Eve opened her eyes to find herself lying in her own bed. The red slicker was gone, and her wet clothes had been removed. She was wrapped in her white terrycloth robe. It was warm and dry, as were the blankets covering her legs. Andie, her own hair curling with dampness, a towel slung over her shoulders, stood at the foot of Eve’s bed.

  She must have just taken a shower, Eve thought, her eyelids heavy. Did I take one, too? I don’t remember, but my hair is wet, like Andie’s.

  Garth was standing right behind Andie. His hair, too, was damp, plastered against his forehead in dark, wavy strands.

  Eve struggled awake. Why was everybody’s hair wet? And what was Garth doing in her room?

  “He found you,” Andie said, reading the expression on Eve’s face. “Garth found you, lying on the ground near The Snake.” She sat down on the edge of Eve’s bed. “He came here looking for you, a little while ago, and I told him you’d gone to the carnival site.” She smiled up at Garth gratefully. “Thank goodness he went looking for you. And he found you.”

  “You were totally out of it,” Garth said, dropping into Eve’s desk chair. “I almost didn’t spot you. The rain made it hard to see, and you weren’t making a sound. I would have walked right by you if you hadn’t been wearing red. That helped.”

  Eve raised herself up on her elbows. Her head swam and a wave of dizziness sent her flat on the pillow again, her damp hair splaying out around her.

  “Eve,” Andie said flatly, “what in God’s name were you doing at that awful ride?” When Eve didn’t answer, she continued, “Maybe you should go to the infirmary. Are you okay?”

  Eve reached up and fingered the bump on her forehead. Her vision wasn’t blurring and she didn’t seem to have any broken bones. “I don’t need to go to the infirmary. I’m fine.”

  “Garth said it looked to him like you’d fallen off The Snake.” Andie frowned. “But the carnival is closed and none of the rides are operating, so we knew that didn’t make any sense.”

  “I didn’t fall out,” Eve said wearily. She wished they would both go away. All she wanted to do was sleep. “I jumped. And The Snake was running. I was hiding in the last car, trying to get away from the voice, when someone started it up. The ride, I mean. And then they wouldn’t stop it long enough for me to jump out. So I had to jump out when it was still moving. There wasn’t any other choice.”

  A flurry of questions tumbled out of both of them. Eve had a bad headache and she couldn’t think and she couldn’t answer the questions, anyway, because she didn’t know anything. She remembered the terrible feeling of panic when she was in that car and she remembered jumping and she even remembered hitting the ground and how much that had hurt, and she remembered feeling relieved that she wasn’t dead because she felt the chill from the deep puddle of water she had landed in, which had probably cushioned her fall. Her last thought before she lost consciousness had been, I could probably drown in this puddle.

  She remembered nothing after that. She didn’t remember Garth finding her or being carried back to the dorm room or Andie’s removing her wet clothes.

  But she remembered, too well, the terror of being on that ride and the desperate need to get away from it.

  “I need to sleep,” she said, and rolled over on her side. She was asleep in seconds.

  The next morning, Garth called to make sure Eve was okay. She had only one question for him. “Did you see anyone?” she asked anxiously, ignoring her throbbing headache and the agonizing pain in both shoulders, the aching bruises on her arms and legs. The sun streaming in through the window hurt her eyes. “When you found me, was anyone else there?”

  “Nope. Only you. Why?”

  “Because I didn’t jump from that car for exercise,” Eve snapped. “I told you, I heard that voice again. The same one I heard in the Mirror Maze. It was after me. It called me by name. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?”

  “Not a thing. But it was raining like crazy, Eve. I almost didn’t see you, and I was looking for you. I wasn’t looking for anyone else.” Garth paused, then added, “I saw Alfred and Serena, but that was later, after I brought you back. I went downstairs to get hot coffee for Andie and me, and Alfred was at the vending machine. Serena was right behind him. They looked like drowned rats.”

  “Did you tell them what happened?”

  “No. Wasn’t sure you’d want me to.”

  “Serena lives at Nightmare Hall. I wonder what she was doing on campus so late.”

  “Said she’d been hitting the books at the library. Studying for finals. And good old Alfred wanted to know what I was doing in your building.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said we were studying, together. He didn’t like it, gave me one of those looks. Are you going to tell them what happened? Shouldn’t they know? Seems to me everyone you know should be on the alert. Keeping an eye out. Unless you’re planning on closing down the festivities now.”

  Close down the Founders’ Day celebration? Now? Wouldn’t that be a huge relief? Like having a ten-ton boulder lifted off the back of her neck. Everything horrible that had happened this week had to be connected to the celebration, although Eve couldn’t think of a single reason why that would be true. If the carnival ended, would the other stuff end, too? Would she be safe, then? Would they all be safe?

  “No,” she said firmly, in spite of her aches and pains and the leftover terror still chilling her spine, “we’re not closing down.”

  “No?” He sounded surprised, but he didn’t argue, and shortly afterward, they hung up.

  Eve thought about calling the police. But she had no proof. Nothing at all. Her pursuer wasn’t stupid. There wouldn’t be any fingerprints on The Snake’s operating lever. And the rain would have washed away any footprints. She had nothing.

  But she would be more careful from now on.

  If she only knew why … maybe that would help. The gibberish the voice had spouted, about the moon and some stupid “power,” provided no information at all. Only someone totally insane would do the things he was doing, and rant and rave about weird, impossible things.

  Dealing with someone who was out of his mind was a lot scarier than dealing with someone simply angry, for whatever reason, about the Founders’ Day festivities.

  Why hadn’t he killed her last night when she was lying unconscious in that puddle? What had stopped him? Maybe Garth had come along too soon and spoiled everything by finding Eve first.

  It took Eve a long time in parapsychology class to work up enough nerve to ask the question that was making her crazy. She knew everyone would stare
when she opened her mouth. She’d made her scorn for the paranormal obvious from the very first day of class. Now they’d think she’d converted, that she was becoming a believer.

  Never. But she had to ask this question.

  “Dr. Litton,” she said, clenching her fist around a pencil, keeping her voice clear and steady, “can the full moon make people do things they wouldn’t normally do?”

  Heads swiveled and there were suddenly so many eyes on Eve, she felt like an exhibit at the zoo. Andie’s mouth had fallen open, and Eve saw Alfred and Serena exchange a glance of total disbelief.

  Eve felt the blood rush to her face. For pete’s sake, she hadn’t asked if there really was a man in the moon.

  The professor seemed to take the question seriously. “I think the answer to that, Ms. Forsythe, is that if someone believed the moon at its fullest was affecting his or her behavior, truly believed it, then yes, the behavior would undoubtedly change. Literature is filled with references to such behavior, as we’ve already discussed in here.”

  Eve was pleased with Dr. Litton’s answer. And before anyone could argue with it, the bell rang. Eve put her notebook into her backpack, as people grabbed their books and jumped up, heading for the door.

  Eve slid her feet back inside her black flats and would have stood up, too. But just then her fingers closed around something inside the backpack that shouldn’t have been there. Something she hadn’t put there. In fact, something that she had tossed into the wastebasket because she couldn’t bear the sight of it.

  The room emptied quickly, but still Eve sat, her eyes staring straight ahead as her hand pulled from the backpack the hardcover copy of Moonchild.

  She knew that’s what it was, although she didn’t look down at first. She didn’t want to look down. She could tell by the feel of it, by the shape of it, and by the feeling deep inside her stomach.

  She wouldn’t look down. She would simply stand up, walk to the huge gray metal trash can beside Dr. Litton’s desk, toss the book in, and leave the room. One, two, three, easy as pie. No problem.

  She looked down.

  The book sat in her lap, cover up. The moon was there, visible from the child’s hospital room. The shadow was still painted across the upper half, and the lower half was still red with “blood.”

  But now there was more. The vicious artist had drawn a “mouth” on the moon. Not a smiley mouth. Definitely not a smiley mouth, Eve thought, sickened, her eyes fixated on the crude, horrifying drawing.

  Instead of a pleasant smile on the moon, there was a wide, maniacal grin filled with pointed, razor-sharp teeth.

  Chapter 18

  THE NEXT THING EVE knew, she was lying on the floor, staring up at Serena and Dr. Litton.

  “Should we call a doctor?” the professor asked.

  “You fainted,” Serena told Eve. There was awe in her voice.

  “I know, I know,” Eve said, sitting up and leaning against the professor’s desk, “I’m not the type. Should have eaten more than a bagel, I guess.” She didn’t want them to know about the book, but they’d probably already seen it. How was she going to explain it?

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?” Dr. Litton asked. “You were only out for a second, but people don’t faint without a reason.”

  Oh, I had a reason, Eve thought darkly. She glanced around her, looking for the book. It had probably fallen to the floor when she slid out of her seat. “There was a book …” she began, but Serena interrupted her.

  “That horrible thing? I saw it. It was disgusting. Is that why you passed out? I tossed it down the incinerator chute. I didn’t want you seeing it when you woke up. I hope that’s okay. I mean, you didn’t want it, did you, Eve?”

  Dr. Litton nodded. “I saw it, too. Who drew on the cover?”

  “I don’t know,” Eve said.

  “I would suggest that you go back to your room and take the morning off,” Dr. Litton said, helping Eve up. “You’ve got a nasty bruise on your forehead. Did that happen just now?”

  Eve almost laughed. Which disaster was the bruise from? It was hard to keep track these days. “No,” was all she said.

  Serena went with her to Lester. On the way, she said, “I don’t blame you for folding like an accordion. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I will be.” Eve was trying to think when that book might have been placed in her backpack. The only time she remembered putting the pack down was when she had grabbed a quick cup of coffee and a bagel that morning before class. She’d left the backpack on her chair when she went to get sugar. But she’d only been gone a second. And she hadn’t noticed anyone skulking around her chair.

  What scared her the most was the realization that the sick “artist” who had thrust that book into her backpack had been close to her. And she hadn’t even known it.

  Andie wasn’t in the room when they went inside.

  “You’re going to stay here, right?” Serena asked anxiously. “I mean, if I leave, you’re not going to get up and go to classes, are you? You need to rest.”

  When Eve sat down on the bed, a wave of dizziness so strong it blurred her vision slapped at her. She swayed precariously. Serena reached over and gently helped her lie down.

  “You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed this morning. Andie told me what happened last night. I have a mythology class, but I’ve already read all of the material, so I can stay if you want. I hate leaving you here all alone.”

  “I’m just going to sleep, Serena. Go ahead and go. I can’t sleep with someone staring at me, anyway. But I’ll be at the carnival grounds at two, for sure.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to go over there, Eve. Kevin’s being sprung this morning. Didn’t anyone tell you? He’s fine, and he’ll be there. You’ve been doing double-duty long enough. Let him take over now.”

  Eve sighed with relief. Kevin was back. She wasn’t alone anymore. The truth was, it felt wonderful to lie down and close her eyes. Shut everything out. She would burrow deep beneath the blankets and pretend that she was safe.

  “Okay, I’ll stay here,” she said meekly, rolling over on her side. Serena pulled the bedspread over her. “For a little while. I guess I am tired.”

  Serena closed the door quietly when she left.

  Eve concentrated on shutting out the horrible image of bloody moon fangs, and fell asleep.

  When she awoke, the clock on her bedside table said two-twenty. Eve couldn’t believe it. She had slept for over three hours! The carnival had already opened, and here she was, lying in bed like a sloth. Nell would have a screaming fit if she knew her responsible, levelheaded daughter was sleeping off her duties like some garden slug.

  Then she remembered that Kevin was back, and she sagged back against the pillow. She didn’t have to get up. She didn’t have to do anything. Kevin could do it all. Serena was right, she had been doing “double-duty” while Kevin’s ribs were healing. It was his turn.

  But … Eve struggled to force her mind fully awake … weren’t there other things she needed to attend to? Kevin could handle things at the carnival site. But he couldn’t find out why that book had been in her backpack or why Boomer had been shot with that dart or who had put that burr under the horse’s saddle, starting the whole, nasty business.

  Neither can I, she thought as she sat up gingerly, waiting for another wave of dizziness. It didn’t come, and she swung her feet to the floor. I’m no detective. The police are supposed to be looking for the person who put a hole in Boomer’s chest.

  But there was something she could do. She could go see Boomer herself. Ask him straight out, if he had seen anything. Seen anyone. If he had seen who threw the dart, that made him an eyewitness. An eyewitness was even better than fingerprints, wasn’t it?

  You’re not being very realistic, she told herself as she changed out of her wrinkled clothes into clean cutoffs and a red tank top. Where’s that marvelous logic people keep talking about? The police must have asked Boomer what he’d seen. If he’d given them a n
ame, the guilty party would have been arrested by now.

  Clinging to a faint hope that the police simply hadn’t had time yet to talk to Boomer, Eve left the dorm and climbed on the little yellow shuttle bus into town. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had to do something, and that she had to do it fast. Someone had been in her room. Someone had grabbed that book out of the wastebasket, and that same someone had then slid it into her backpack. Knowing that made her palms sweaty and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. So close … he had been so close. And she hadn’t even known it!

  Talking to Boomer, even if the conversation was futile, was better than lying in bed terrified, with her heart threatening to pound its way right out of her chest.

  The nurse on the fourth floor at the Twin Falls Medical Center gave her a hard time. “He’s still in serious condition. If you’re not a relative …”

  “I’m his cousin,” Eve said quickly. Ignoring the skeptical eyebrow lifting toward the nurse’s cap, she added, “We’re very close. That’s why we decided to go to the same college.”

  “Funny,” the nurse said drily, “his parents have been here for two days and they never mentioned a cousin.” But she relented, and waved Eve toward Boomer’s room.

  Boomer’s face was waxy white, his eyes still puzzled because he had no idea how someone as big and healthy as he was could have ended up flat on his back in a hospital bed. He was so glad to have company that Eve didn’t have the heart to ask him any questions about the dart. She made lively conversation until it was time for her to leave. Finally she had to say as matter-of-factly as she could, “Boomer, I was just wondering if you saw who threw that dart at you. I mean, you were facing the crowd. I figured you might have seen an arm raised or something.”

  “Just Tony’s arm,” was his disappointing answer. “I was pretty much keeping my eyes on Tony. He’d already hit the apple with every dart he’d thrown, so I was trying to figure out a way to maybe duck or something, move a little bit to one side just so the last dart would miss. Take him down a peg or two. But then I decided that wouldn’t be fair, so I stood still.”