Meridia Falls Series 1 Books 1 & 2: The Spark & Sunburst (Meridia Falls Boxsets)

by D. B. Green

  The thunder is back, but it’s now a low rumble of dissent running through the classroom.

  “Come on guys,” Jefferson says. “This will be fun and it helps towards a greater goal. The Census Project is your chance to be a part of history.” He walks around the class dropping a folder on each student’s desk. “Each of you will study the family of a fellow student. We want family trees going back to when Mud Creek became Meridia Falls.”

  I turn to Marilyn. “Mud Creek?”

  Before she can reply, Jefferson stops at my desk. “Would anyone care to let Mr. Collins know how Mud Creek became Meridia Falls.”

  No hands go up.

  “Wow. I’m stunned by your enthusiasm this morning; so many volunteers.”

  He sighs and looks over my shoulder. “At least I can always count on you, Penny.”

  Looks like I was wrong. One hand was up.

  The bubble-blowing jock groans. “Not Penny Dreadful again.”

  “Enough of that Mr. Cavanagh,” Jefferson says. “You can learn a lot from Miss Summers.”

  Penny walks past my desk. Her long, black cardigan flows out behind her, leaving her sweet-smelling perfume under my nose. Vanilla. My favorite, calming scent. She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. Her look sends a tingle down my spine. She definitely looks like the same girl that leads me through the forest every night. The recurring dream flashes across my mind. But it feels different. Softer. Even the burning trees don’t bother me now.

  Jefferson leans against the back wall. “Your Mud Creek PowerPoint presentation is still on the computer, Penny,” he says. “Use the last part, it’s perfect.”

  Penny smiles and taps at the computer keyboard on his desk. A series of black-and-white pictures flash up on the wall behind her showing old-fashioned houses. The slideshow stops on a grainy picture of a wooden sign for the town of Mud Creek and Penny starts her narration. “In eighteen twenty-eight, the granddaughter of George Horton, the mayor of Mud Creek, was saved from drowning by a passing man called Jean Pierre Meridia. Who incidentally was a descendant of the original Acadian settlers.” Penny stops talking while the slideshow cycles through images of several people. It stops on a grainy picture of a waterfall and a young girl. “Little Eliza Horton had fallen into the river at the Three Pools waterfalls. JP Meridia was camping with his family close by…” She pauses. “Hearing Eliza’s screams, Meridia dove into the river, but he drowned saving her. The people of Mud Creek took in Meridia’s family like they were part of their own. Spin forward two years to eighteen thirty, when Mud Creek and several smaller towns merged together, George Horton suggested the new town be named in honor of the man that saved his granddaughters life… And Meridia Falls was born.”

  The slideshow suddenly cuts to a video of a little boy sitting at a table. An all too familiar video. A video of me.

  Fuck.

  The news channel narration kicks in. “This is seven-year-old Logan Collins, the white door kid. Channel Six news managed to secure a video of his police interview. An interview that casts doubt over the official story about his sister’s disappearance.”

  “I can’t stop it.” Penny’s fingers fly over the computer keyboard, but the video doesn’t stop. It zooms in on my face.

  “A white door took her. A white door took her.”

  The video freezes on my tear-stained young face. Everyone turns to look at me like I’m the prized addition at the local zoo.

  Jefferson strolls forward and taps the keyboard. “I expected better from you Miss Summers. I do not tolerate bullying in my classroom.” He points to her desk at the back. “Sit down and see me after class.”

  Penny glances at me on the way past. “It wasn’t me,” she whispers. “Someone tampered with my presentation.”

  Jefferson strokes his beard while watching her all the way to her desk. Then he looks straight at me. “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Collins.”

  “It’s fine,” I say.

  “Was that really you?” Marilyn whispers.

  “It was. Along time ago.”

  “You sure you’re OK?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been through worse,” I whisper. “A lot worse.”

  Jefferson bangs a folder against his desk, then waves it in the air. “Back to the Census Project. This will be your ongoing history homework for the semester. We want family trees going all the way back to eighteen thirty or to when the families arrived in Meridia Falls.”

  There’s a flurry of noise, like flapping wings, as everyone opens their folders. Marilyn points at me with her assignment paper in her hand. She smiles and her eyes twinkle like diamonds. “I got you.”

  I open my folder. The name at the top of my paper says Penny Summers.

  13:22 GMT-4

  MERIDIA HIGH SCHOOL | MERIDIA FALLS

  The lunch queue moves two steps further to the till. The school cafeteria is filling up now. At least we’re near the front. Getting a call to fill out some forms during last period meant we left class early and got a jump on the lunch queue. Now I understand why Marilyn was so happy to be chaperone.

  “Bitch,” Marilyn whispers, as Penny walks through the arched cafeteria entrance. Her eyes search the room. They settle on me and she heads over, stopping when she notices Marilyn standing next to me.

  The recurring dream fills my head again. Were the burning trees a premonition to stay away from Penny?

  “I still can’t believe what that bitch did.” Marilyn’s words cut through the air bringing my mind back into focus. She stares at Penny, watching her all the way to the back of the queue. “She must be taking lessons from Candy.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say. “It’s the norm for me, someone always finds out about my past.” I grab a carton of milk from the counter. “It’s not usually this quick, though.”

  Marilyn reaches over me to grab a bottle of Diet Coke. “Now I know why Penny Dreadful wanted to be your chaperone. More material for her freaky fanzine.”

  “Penny Dreadful,” I say. “Someone called her that in class.”

  “Yeah, Candy gave her the nickname because she’s into weird shit. I didn’t know what it meant until I Googled it.” She slams a candy bar down on her tray. “The name fits.”

  I gently rub her arm. “Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

  She snatches her arm away. “Easy there, Newb. Don’t get any ideas.” There’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “My boyfriend’s dad is a police sergeant, you know.”

  I slide a cheese salad sandwich onto my tray. “I think you might have mentioned that, once or twice.”

  She smiles and pays for her lunch. The woman on the till checks my tray and punches up the total. Two dollars, fifty. I hand over the exact amount. The small photo of Cassie smiles back at me from my wallet.

  Marilyn stares at it over my shoulder.

  “So, which luxurious table did you book for our first date?” I ask, taking her attention away from the photo of Cassie.

  At that moment, Candy strolls into the cafeteria like she owns the place. Her entourage follows close behind like my mom’s yapping assistants. The similarities are uncanny.

  Marilyn turns away from her nemesis. “I booked a more quiet and reserved table,” she says, her tray shaking a little. “Follow me.”

  Candy pushes in at the front of the lunch queue. She flicks her hand out like she’s shooing away pigeons in the park. No one complains.

  “Has she always been like that?”

  “Who?”

  “Candy.”

  Marilyn glances over her shoulder. She watches Candy’s group for a second as they pick through the available lunch options. “We used to be friends, best friends. Until the prom.” She sniffs away the memory and leads me out of the cafeteria and down the corridor. She stops outside the entrance to the school library. “Ta da! Chez Libraré. The quietest spot in town to eat.”

  I hold my tray up high and follow her through the unstaffed turnstile.

  “Don’t worry. The lib
rarian takes her lunch at the same time we do. They don’t expect students to waste their time in here when they don’t have to,” she says. “But, just in case, I have a regular table booked in a secluded spot at the back.”

  It’s larger than the library at summer school; more modern too. A row of computers takes up the front part, with the bookcases behind, disappearing into musty darkness. A lone kid sits at a computer, his lunch next to him. He notices us and shuffles to the left, hiding behind the screen.

  We head past him to the labyrinth of bookcases, weaving through them, heading further into the maze of shelves. The deeper we get, the emptier the bookcases become; until we get to some without any books at all.

  “Is this the invisible book section?”

  Marilyn laughs. “It’s something to do with the Census Project,” she says. “A group from Meridia University keeps taking them. I had to help haul a load up there last week.” She rubs her back. “Hardback books too. That was fun - not.”

  We carry on through the maze of empty bookcases until we reach the back corner of the library. The general history section. All the shelves are bare here, apart from a small street atlas for Meridia Falls, sitting alone on the middle shelf. It’s an earlier edition of the one I picked up in town yesterday.

  I hold it up. “Hey, at least I have one book on the history list.”

  “What are you on about?” Marilyn asks, as she sits at a large round table, hiding in the corner.

  I replace the book on the shelf. “It’s nothing important.” I slide my tray across the table and sit next to her. “Did you really tip off the Mounties about the party?”

  Her eyes open wide. “No!” She pauses. “But… I wish it was me.” She twists the top of the Diet Coke bottle, letting out the fizz. “Candy wanted Steve to be her date.”

  “Your boyfriend.”

  She nods and takes a sip of Coke. “She was after him all last year… while he was after me.” She takes a longer sip, almost finishing the bottle. “To be honest, I didn’t even realize he liked me until he asked me to prom.” She presses her hands together, then flings them apart, making the sound of an explosion. “And that started the Candy War.”

  “Jesus Christ. All this hate over a prom date,” I say. “So, you think it was Candy that set you up as the police informer?”

  Marilyn nods. “She has the tact of a sledgehammer. It was so obvious she did it. Of course, all my ex-friends believed her when she pointed the finger at me.” She rips open the plastic wrapper covering her chicken salad sandwich. “I was captain of the lacrosse team and prom queen…” She stares at the empty bookcase opposite us. “Everyone liked me.”

  “Do you miss that life?” I ask. “It did sound a little shallow.”

  She shakes her bottle of Coke. “Yeah, that was me. Shallow Marilyn Moreau. Blame my Mom. Classic case of beauty pageant brainwashing. She even named me after her idol, Marilyn Monroe, as you might have guessed. Mom entered me in any pageant going. Makeup, dresses, and fake smiles. That was me.” She sighs. “No, I don’t miss that life. It took what happened after the prom to make me see how shallow it was.” She pushes her tray away. “Enough about me, Newb. What was all the white door kid business on the news footage? Sounded like a bad, excuse the pun, candy commercial tag line.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to ask about that.”

  She holds up her hands. “I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you then.” She puts her hand on my arm. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  The history assignment jumps into my mind. “It’s fine, I guess you’ll find out soon enough anyway,” I say, letting out a long breath. “The news documentary was about my sister, Cassie. She was kidnapped ten years ago.”

  Marilyn’s face drops. She squeezes my arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… That just takes Penny to a whole new bitch level.” She shakes her head. “Here I am crowing over the prom and you…”

  “It’s OK, it was a long time ago. Still hurts like hell, though.” I tap my head. “But there was a shit load of therapy pumped through that delusional boy’s head to turn me into who I am today.”

  Marilyn half smiles and rubs my arm. “So, what happened?”

  I take a bite of my cheese sandwich. “I was seven and Cassie was eight. It was her birthday and our dad was taking us out for the day. A birthday picnic in the Pacific Rim Park.” Marilyn frowns. “Mom and dad were divorced.” I quickly add. “He got shafted in the settlement and had no money. And anyway, we were happy to see him. Mom had cut his contact down to nothing.”

  “Same happened with my parents.” Marilyn pauses. “Sorry, carry on.”

  “After the picnic, we went for a walk through the park. I ran off to hide. We always played a game where we’d hide and jump out on each other. I found a weird bent tree that looked cool to hide behind. And then I heard Cassie screaming. Someone dragged her, kicking and screaming, through a strange door standing between the trees. A strange white wooden door. I can still see it in my head. It had a little red triangle at the top that lit up like a brake light on a car. I ran away. Some hikers found me and called the police.”

  Marilyn’s jaw drops.

  “The shrinks told me that Dad kidnapped Cassie. They said I had a breakdown when I saw him force Cassie into the trunk of his white car. The white wooden door was a hallucination my mind invented to cope.”

  “Which park did you say it happened in?”

  “The Pacific Rim National Park in Vancouver. That video you saw in class was my police interview. The news network got a copy. From that moment on, I was the ‘white door kid.’ I’ve been running from that delusional kid all my life. It’s been a long road.”

  “What about your sister?”

  I pull out my wallet and show her Cassie’s picture.

  Marilyn stares at the photo. “She looks familiar,” she says, her eyes opening wide. “I thought I recognized her in the cafeteria.”

  I rub my thumb over the picture. “Yeah, you will have seen it before. It’s been everywhere. Newspapers, TV…” I reach for my milk carton. “Even on the back of these.”

  “Did they ever… find her?”

  “No.” I run my fingers slowly through my hair. “They linked a whole load of child murders to my dad, Patrick Collins.”

  “Oh… My… God. Patrick Collins is your dad. Holy shit.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, your sister is—”

  “—dead. Yes, the police closed the case five years ago. They never found her… body.”

  Marilyn lets out a long breath. She leans over and hugs me, squeezing my shoulders. Her hair is soft against my skin.

  I pull away and rub my tingling eyes. “It’s like a ticking time bomb. Wherever I go, I’m always waiting for the moment it will explode. Funny thing is, people presume I want to keep it all bottled up. To be honest, Marilyn, it helps to talk about it with friends.” I slide my wallet back in my pocket. “Trouble is, I don’t have many.”

  Marilyn wipes a finger under her glistening eyes. She reaches for my hand, squeezing it tight. “Call me Maz.”

  “Thanks, Maz.” I reach into my rucksack and pull out the birthday cupcakes from Anne. Frosted with blue icing, they each have a chocolate plaque on top, wishing me happy birthday. I offer one to Maz.

  She wipes her eyes and smiles. The prom smile. “Happy birthday, Newb.”

  14:02 GMT-4

  MERIDIA HIGH SCHOOL | MERIDIA FALLS

  “Don’t even think about it.” Maz holds up her hand as Penny weaves between the desks.

  She ignores the warning. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how that video got on my presentation.” She puts both hands on my desk and leans in close. The scent of vanilla is intoxicating. “You have to believe me.” Her big green eyes are almost as hypnotic as her perfume. “You have to…” Her voice trails off.

  “Excuse me,” Maz says, forcing her arm between us. “There are free desks at the back of the class.”

  Penny narrows
her eyes and turns, flicking her long cardigan over Maz’s head.

  Maz frowns and straightens her fringe. “‘Don’t know how it got there.’ Who’s she fooling? It was her freakin’ presentation.”

  I watch Penny lift a book out of her bag. She doesn’t look like the type to purposely humiliate someone. Then again, I’ve been conned by a few innocent-looking girls these past few years. Always wanting a new angle, a new story. What did Maz say? Penny runs her own fanzine? Maybe she wanted a story for that.

  I tug at the neck of my shirt collar. It’s getting hot in here, like a scorching summer day. I turn to the window. The frost from this morning still covers the ground outside like a white sheet. I tense my shoulders as a bead of sweat rolls down my back. Penny’s vanilla scent must be getting to me.

  “The freakin’ heating is on full in here,” Maz pulls off her jumper to reveal a matching blue vest top underneath. “If you keep staring, your eyes will pop out,” she says, grinning.

  Crap. “Sorry.”

  Most of the other students follow her lead and remove a layer of clothing too. I unbutton my shirt and pull at my T-shirt. It’s sticking to my chest like I’ve just run a couple of laps at the track.

  A sudden loud crash gets everyone’s attention. A woman at the front of the classroom holds a large book over the teacher’s desk, ready to slam it down again. She drops the book and pushes her round glasses back up her nose, smirking as the room goes silent. “Do I have everyone’s attention now?”

  “Look at her skirt,” Maz whispers. “I’ve got belts bigger than that.”

  The woman moves to the side of the desk. Her long, and tanned legs disappear under her small black skirt. I follow them all the way up, as does every other male in the room. Jaws hit the floor. Her half-open white blouse doesn’t leave much to the imagination, as she leans over the desk, exposing the top of her white lace bra. Beads of sweat roll down her tanned chest as she surveys the class.

  Maz whacks my arm as wolf whistles come from the front row. “Stop staring, you pervert.” She scowls and shakes her head.

  “I’m Miss Slayter,” the woman says, ignoring the whistles. She twists her finger through her long, dark brown hair. “I’m covering for Mr. Randall. In fact, I’ll be with you for the rest of the semester.” She sighs and grabs a sheet of paper from her desk. “Yes… Miss Summers?”