Greg laughed like a hyena.
The guy with brown hair was still sitting on the bench.
Sasha continued forward with his sinister eyes fixated on me.
With a surge of panic, some strength returned to my legs, and I bolted for the door. I had forgotten my backpack, but I couldn’t go back. The door was just ahead. The door was freedom. The door was now behind me as I skidded to a stop on the blacktop.
Some girls exiting their locker room were sidetracked from their conversation by my erratic behavior and looked over to see what was going on. When all they saw was me being dramatic, they simply laughed and continued on their way.
In a futile attempt to fight back tears and stop my legs from shaking, I tried to swallow the fear that was lodged in my throat and looked back at the locker room just in time to see the door slam shut.
Interlude 1
Greg was laughing so hard he snorted. “Did you see him run? That was hilarious! He thought you were actually gonna stab him.”
“What if I was?” Sasha said, turning back to his group.
“I thought we were just gonna scare him,” Logan said, sitting on the unsteady bench, tapping his foot involuntarily and leaning forward on his forearms.
“Yeah, well, things—”
The door to the entrance of the locker room suddenly slammed shut.
Startled, all three guys stared at each other. The slam reverberated throughout the locker room, sounding like there were doors closing all around them.
“Are you kidding me? Is he trying to lock us in?” Sasha said, sounding even more enraged than before. He marched off to the door, and Greg heard him collide into it like a bull. “Are you kidding me, Nut Grain?!” Sasha banged on the door. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll open this door right now!”
Greg and Logan came up behind Sasha—screaming a string of obscenities—and joined in banging and shoving the door. The door shifted in its frame, but didn’t open. Sasha threw his shoulder into the door with all his strength, but it barely budged.
“How does he think he’s going to get away with this?” Greg asked and kicked the door with his boot.
“He’s obviously not thinking clearly. You’re dead, Nut Grain! You’re dead! You hear me?!”
“What now?” Logan asked. He banged on the door once or twice, and then paced away from it.
“I don’t know. I can’t be caught in here,” Sasha said, taking a few deep breaths to calm down.
“You’re not even supposed to be on campus,” Greg said.
“No shit, Sherlock. Let me think.”
Just then, an earsplitting screech, like metal grinding against metal, pierced the silence from somewhere in the back of the locker room. All three guys jumped, previously convinced they were alone. They looked at each other yet again, not knowing whether to investigate or remain by the door.
“What is that?” Greg asked. He was beginning to think this stunt was a bad idea.
“I don’t know,” Sasha said and gripped the screwdriver tighter. “Whoever’s back there, I’m giving you ’til the count of three to show yourself before I come back there and carve you up!”
The thunderous screeching continued.
Sasha counted down.
When no one emerged from the rows of lockers, Sasha urged Greg and Logan to follow. Logan seemed terribly apprehensive. Greg believed that Logan might know who or what was back there—something he didn’t want to meet face to face.
“It’s all you, man.” Greg’s feet were firmly planted on the ground.
Sasha marched on despite his lack of backup and followed the noise, which led him to the back row where he had confronted Oliver earlier. And when he disappeared into the row, the screeching stopped.
“What was it?” Greg shouted.
There was a long pause. The entire locker room had become eerily silent.
“Do I have your attention?” Sasha said.
“Yeah, what is it?” Greg yelled back.
“That is what it says. ‘Do I have your attention?’”
Greg and Logan hurried back and found Sasha still fixated on the writing etched into the lockers.
“That’s the trippiest thing I’ve ever seen!” Greg said.
The florescent lights hanging from the ceiling began to crackle and flicker.
“I’m not feeling good about being here,” Logan whispered.
Greg was feeling the same, but he wasn’t about to say it aloud—to admit it to Sasha.
The florescent lights on the far end of the locker room went out, followed by the next row, and the next—until the only lights illuminated were directly above the row where the three boys stood.
“I’m getting out of here,” Logan said, headed toward the door without so much as a moment’s hesitation, and disappeared into the shadows.
Greg listened for more banging at the locked door, but it didn’t come.
Then Sasha began to scream and dropped to his knees.
Greg saw him go down in his peripheral vision, but no indicator as to why—until he saw the blood.
Sasha was bent over and clutching his left hand. To Greg’s horror, he saw the head of the screwdriver sticking through the back of Sasha’s left hand. Blood poured from the wound and dripped into a puddle on the floor. Tears rolled down his face while he continued to scream.
“Oh my God! What did you do?!” Greg gasped.
“It wasn’t me—it was—” Sasha cried, gazing up with the innocent bewilderment of a young child. “Can’t you see him? He’s standing right next to you!”
Greg saw no one.
Sasha then rapidly grabbed the handle of the screwdriver and yanked it out of his hand, causing him to scream even louder. Without hesitation, he violently stabbed the screwdriver through the palm of his left hand again. Blood sprayed all over the floor, bench, nearby lockers, and Greg.
Greg jumped back and tripped over the wooden bench.
Sasha yanked the screwdriver out of his hand again and immediately plunged it back in and repeated the excruciating act over and over until his left hand was riddled with dripping holes.
“Make him stop!” Sasha cried, now kneeling in the enlarging pool of blood.
Greg couldn’t believe his eyes. “What are you doing?” he screamed.
“Help me!” Sasha pleaded. And he kept begging for help while continuing to thrust the screwdriver into his mangled left hand.
“Who are you?” Sasha cried.
Sickened by the carnage and overwhelmingly panicked, Greg bolted for the door. He stumbled in the dark and ran into the door at full force. He pounded on it repeatedly, desperately screaming for help.
After a minute of pounding, he collapsed in defeat on the floor. Pulling himself into a corner, he sat with his back to the wall and hugged his knees. Greg listened to his friend cry, closed his eyes, and prayed for the nightmare to end.
And then it did.
The screaming stopped.
A man suddenly stepped out from the only lit row in the locker room. Wiping his hands with a handkerchief, he walked toward the door, toward Greg. Each row of florescent lights flickered to life as he passed, giving him a supernatural aura. The man wore a black, tailored suit coat, with a matching rain hat atop his bald head. He had a round face, big ears, and pale skin that made him look almost albino. But his eyes became more pronounced as he approached, deep and penetrating.
The door swung open as the man approached. Sunlight flooded in, and the smell of fresh air was breathtaking—things Greg had always taken for granted, but never again.
“There were three of you,” the man said in a raspy voice. “Where is your other friend?”
Greg mouthed the words several times before any sound escaped his lips. “I don’t know.”
The man’s chuckle was as rough as his voice. “Hiding in the darkness, no doubt. He is of little consequence. I think my work here is finished. Oliver sends his regards. Good day.” The pale man tipped his hat to Greg and sau
ntered gingerly out into the open air.
6
Into the Dark
I snuck back into the locker room a few minutes before lunch ended; successfully assuming it would be empty. My backpack rested neatly against my locker. Nothing was missing. Nothing more was damaged. I looked around to try and make sense of my good fortune. Everything seemed normal, which made me feel uneasy. I snatched up my backpack and left in a hurry in order to escape before the next class arrived.
“Do you think it’s him?” Desiree asked, seated next to me curbside on the intersection of Santa Clara and Wheeler.
We sat facing Desiree’s side of the street, Desiree hugging her knees. It was Monday afternoon. Desiree and I had walked home together so Eli could drive straight to work for his afternoon shift at an independent coffee shop.
“I don’t know what to think. I’ve been so hesitant to talk about it, but I had to tell someone. It’s totally creeping me out.”
“I can imagine. I’d be freaked out, too.”
“What do you know about his suicide? In the first week of school, everyone was quick to inform me that I was living in the Taylor house, but no one wanted to talk about it. What happened?”
Desiree paused again. “I’m not really the one to ask.”
“Then who is?”
“I don’t know. It was a hard time. I think everyone is trying to get over TJ’s death and move on with their lives. It was just big news that someone finally moved into his old house.”
“Obviously, someone’s not moving on.”
“I am, too. I just—”
“Not you. TJ,” I said, looking at her closely. Desiree seemed bothered by the conversation. “Did I tell you he wrote ‘my room’ on the wall? And why did he write it backwards, so I would have to read it in the mirror?”
“Maybe ghosts see backwards.”
“That’s ridiculous. Ghosts don’t see backwards,” I laughed.
“Why not? How do you know?” The playfulness in Desiree’s voice returned. “Do you want to ask him?”
I shook my head.
“Would you feel better if we asked him together?” She looked sympathetic.
While Desiree was still talking, I saw the infamous cherry-red Camaro race down Santa Clara and speed around the corner onto Wheeler. Leslie and Jeremy looked over at Desiree and me seated precariously on the curb. Jeremy saluted. He could be so cocky sometimes.
“You’re gonna come spend a night in my room?” I said, returning to our conversation.
“Tempting, but no. I have a better idea. Meet me back here at ten o’clock.”
“Tonight? What are we doing?”
“You’ll see,” she said ominously.
“Why do you have to be all mysterious? Maybe I won’t show up,” I said, trying to put my foot down.
“You better not stand me up, Oliver Grain!” Desiree snapped.
“Ten o’clock is fine,” I said, reprimanded into submission.
“Good!” She said and bounced up with a grin that looked devious and guilty at the same time. “I’ll see you at ten.” Desiree darted across Santa Clara and headed home. Again, she didn’t glance back.
I watched her continue down the street and up her driveway. I couldn’t figure her out.
“Don’t you look sad and pathetic.”
I cocked my head straight up and back. Jeremy towered over me, shaking his head.
“What do you want?”
“I just thought I’d come check up on my little brother. Looked like a little something was blossoming here.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lowered my head and continued to take in the scenery of Desiree’s side of Wheeler.
“Don’t I? What happened?” Jeremy asked and took a seat next to me.
“We were just talking,” I said, and I couldn’t subdue a growing smile.
“And—”
“And I’m meeting her at ten o’clock.”
“Atta boy. To do what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you better think of something. You don’t want to meet up and be all wishy-washy. ‘What do you want to do? No, what do you want to do?’” he said, miming a young couple’s conversation. “That game’s for losers. Be decisive.”
“No, I don’t know because she wouldn’t tell me. She already has something in mind,” I said and looked over at him to get a sense of what he thought of Desiree’s motives.
“Score! That saves you the trouble. You get to relax and go along for the ride.” Jeremy patted me hard on the back.
I gave a weak, unsure smile, dominated by his enthusiasm. “Where’s your girlfriend?”
“She’s back at the house, missing me.” We sat silently for a moment, and a moment was all Jeremy could stand. “You gonna sit out here all day?” He threw an arm around my neck and guided me home.
Leslie greeted us both as we walked in the side door. I was in no mood to be their third wheel. I was cordial, but quick to walk past her.
“What was that about?” I heard Leslie say to Jeremy as I continued straight for my room.
“Frolics needs a walk,” Mom called from her room.
“I’m on it,” I said, throwing my backpack on the floor and wandering into the master bedroom. “Is it okay if I meet up with a friend tonight?”
“Where are you going?”
“Just out.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“No,” I said. “She lives just on the other side of Santa Clara. I can walk.”
“She? Tell me about her.”
“Mom,” I moaned and my shoulders slumped forward. “She’s just a friend.”
“Okay, but at least tell me her name.”
“Desiree,” I sighed.
She looked at me for a moment without saying anything, perhaps devising a new interrogation tactic. When she didn’t inquire further, I assumed she was going to pry answers from Jeremy the second I left.
“Don’t be home too late. Oh, and Frolics’ leash is hanging on a chair in the backyard.”
I kept one eye on the clock all night and stepped out at exactly two minutes to ten. Mom put up a fuss about me leaving so late, but I made up an excuse of Desiree having to finish her homework. It seemed to work, but the room was not without skepticism. At least Jeremy wasn’t there to make matters worse.
I strolled down the street in a gray cotton jacket with the hood up and my hands stuffed in the shallow pockets. The street lamp at the intersection of Wheeler and Santa Clara was out, leaving the corner where Desiree and I had sat earlier cloaked in shadows. I saw the silhouette of someone sitting on the curb. As I drew closer, the silhouette rose. I was excited and anxious to see Desiree, anticipating what the night would behold.
But then I noticed a second silhouette rise and stand closely beside the first. There were two people waiting at the corner. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe Desiree would bring Eli and force me to be the third wheel on our expedition. I had been so excited I hadn’t predicted this misfortune. Was he here to punch me? Get in line. My heart sank, and I was about to turn around. Maybe they hadn’t seen me yet.
“I knew you’d come,” Desiree’s voice called out.
I couldn’t turn back now. Almost to Santa Clara, I could start to make out Desiree, but the person standing beside her didn’t look like Eli.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Anna to join us.” Desiree smiled.
I immediately got my second wind and had a feeling this would be an interesting evening. Desiree and Anna both wore dark hooded sweatshirts. Anna had her hood up and also wore a backpack.
“You practically glow in the dark in that silver jacket,” Desiree said.
It’s not silver, it’s gray. “I didn’t know we were supposed to dress all incognito.”
“It’ll have to do. But if you get us caught, I’m going to kill you,” Desiree threatened.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Both g
irls giggled and led the way.
We followed Santa Clara until there were no more streetlights. The neighborhood we lived in disappeared behind us. Santa Clara ended into an apartment complex called Heritage Villas, and we walked along a sidewalk that wove through the scattering of buildings. In the back, the sidewalk curved to parallel a chain-link fence. I followed the girls off the sidewalk.
“I know it’s around here somewhere,” Desiree said.
Curling my fingers through the links of the fence like a prisoner, I peered through into the abyss. The ground dipped into a ravine. The only light came from the complex behind us. There was no light past the fence. I couldn’t tell how steep or how deep the ravine descended.
“I found it!” Desiree exclaimed.
I turned to see what she had discovered. To my surprise, she had found a loose corner of the fence large enough for her to slip through. I ran over and followed Anna through the gap in the fence. My jeans caught on the jagged corner link, almost causing me to trip. I yanked my pant leg free, but not without ripping my jeans.
“Son of a—” I yelled.
Desiree and Anna turned to me, now with flashlights in their hands. Anna zipped up her backpack and flung it back over her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Desiree said and knelt down beside me, shining light on my leg. I bent down and placed my hand inside the rip in my jeans. I’d survive.
Anna didn’t have a third flashlight for me, which wasn’t surprising. The beams from their flashlights revealed the depth of the ravine. Forty or fifty feet or more. And the climb down would be steep.
We cautiously inched down the hill, careful of the brush, bushes, and loose dirt. The girls’ flashlight beams bounced around the hill. A waning moon was rising, giving us slightly more light. I slid and hopped to the base of the ravine.
A growing light sliced through the darkness. It appeared to be moving, approaching us. I heard a low hum growing louder, coming from the direction of the light. I squinted to save my dilated pupils and threw a hand up to shield my eyes as the light grew brighter and began to illuminate the entire base of the ravine.
Provex City Page 7
