After Dark (12 page)

“Lilith?” I called when I finished. “Lilith!”

Nothing. No answer. Utter silence.

It was darker in the trees, with only slivers of moonlight flickering through the leaves.

“Lilith?”

She didn't answer, but I did hear a shuffling sound off to my right. I spun around, trying to see what it was, but could only make out the black silhouettes of the trees. The shuffling came again, behind me.

I whirled around, squinting, trying to pick up any movement in the darkness.

“Lilith, is that you?”

Shuffling to my left … or was it from my right? I couldn't tell. I listened, I waited, my hands out in front of me.

“Lilith?” I hissed.

More shuffling, closer this time.

A shadow moved. A large shadow, about ten feet di-rectly in front of me. It was too big to be Lilith.

“Hello?” I croaked.

The shadow flitted away.

I couldn't stand still any longer. I ran.

I sprinted through about a dozen spiderwebs, not bothering to wipe them off. Low branches swatted and scratched my face, I ran into trees, bounced off of them, staggered, ran some more. I trampled over bushes and through clumps of knee-high ferns. I ran and ran, hoping (praying) that I was heading in the general direction of the inn. But the trees never ended — in fact, they seemed to be getting closer together, blotting out most of the moonlight and smacking me with their leaves and limbs. I kept glancing back over my shoulder, always expecting to see the Baxters or Man-Bear closing in. I would have kept on running like that, full tilt, until I collapsed or puked, except I glanced back one too many times. One second I was hurtling forward through the woods, the next I was falling backward.

“That was a big tree,” I groaned, and the world went from very dark to pitch-black.

Saturday or possibly Sunday

I don't know how long I was lying on the ground, knocked out. There was no way to gauge time in the woods. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was covered in mosquitoes when I came to. They were on my face, my neck, my arms, buzzing in my ears — they were everywhere. I sat up, swatting them away, and the ground tilted. Orange stars popped out of the darkness in front of me. For about five seconds, I thought I was going to pass out again, and then the world came back into focus. I rubbed the side of my head and felt a cartoonish egg-sized bruise under my hair. That's when I remembered why I'd been sprinting through the woods in the first place and slowly got to my feet. I scanned the trees for shadows and listened. The crickets were back, and about ten thousand mosquitoes were buzzing around my head, but there were no more shuffling sounds, and there were no more shadows. I was alone.

“Lilith?” I called, knowing that it was ludicrous to keep yelling for her. Lilith was gone. Heck, maybe she'd managed to save Johnny, and they were already back at the inn, kicking back with some cold pizza and a bottle of mustard, wondering where in the world I'd run off to. And that was an excellent question, wasn't it? Where was I?

I took a long look around, hoping I'd spot some lights glimmering through the trees, but all I saw were more trees, and I couldn't even see a lot of them because it seemed to be getting darker by the second.

I swatted a mosquito that had landed on my neck and tried to think of a way to get back to civilization. According to all the brochures, Choke was the finest private school in the country, but they didn't spend a lick of time on what to do if you got stuck in the woods in the middle of the night. I added
complain about lack of survival training at Choke
to my mental to-do list and tried to come up with some way to get out of here before the mosquitoes drained me of all my blood.

Of course, if I'd had my phone, I could have figured out where I was with the GPS, or, oh, I don't know, called somebody to let them know I was lost in the wilderness. I tried to remember any movies or TV shows I'd watched that involved finding your way out of the woods, but anything that came to mind usually ended with the main characters being captured by serial killers or monsters — usually zombies — and I thought that might actually be the type of predicament I was dealing with, so I tried to think of something else.

I considered yelling hysterically, but I was still a tad terrified of being discovered by the Baxters and Man-Bear, and there was no guarantee anybody else would hear me. I thought about climbing a tree and trying to spot some signs of civilization, but the branches were either too thin or too high up for me to get a start. I did manage to make it halfway up one of the trees, but then I was attacked by some kind of rodent. It was small but surprisingly feisty, and I ended up falling most of the way down to the ground just to avoid its sharp little teeth. That's when I had to admit I probably wasn't going to make it out of the woods until sunup and considered lying down and sleeping the rest of the night away. It was tempting, except for the hordes of bloodthirsty mosquitoes swarming around me. It was only because of them that I decided to keep moving.

I didn't go in any particular direction, and I didn't do it fast, but it was better than sitting still.

Sunday, ?:?? a.m.

I walked all night, bleary-eyed, trying not to run into trees or trip and fall down. At some point, just as the sun was coming up, I heard the sound of water babbling over rocks and by some miracle I actually found my way over to the banks of a river. I plunged my face into the ice-cold water just to wake up a little. Then I took stock of the last twenty-four hours:

• Severe sunburn — check.
  
• Chased by neighbors — check.
  
• Knocked out by a tree — check.
  
• Malied by mosquitoes — check.
  
• Wandered around all night in the woods — check.
  

Things were definitely coming together, and as much as I would have loved to just collapse and have a long nap, I was still awake enough to realize that I might have stumbled onto a way back to the inn.

If this was the Rolling River, and judging by the icy, black water, I thought it probably was, then I could follow it until I got to The Bend. From there, it would be an easy walk back to the inn. Well, easy in relation to the amount of walking I'd already done that night. The possibility that I might be able to make it back to the inn and sleep for about seventy-two hours was more than enough motivation to keep me going.

So, using what was left of my willpower, which isn't all that much at the best of times, I stepped back into the trees and headed downstream. After about an hour of bumbling through the trees along the rocky shoreline, I stepped out of the woods and onto the shoulder of Elm Street. The river continued along, flowing under the road through a tunnel that you'd never know was there unless you'd been lost in the woods. I was hungry and tired, my feet hurt, my head felt like it'd been cracked in two, my legs were cramping and I was covered in mosquito bites, but the one thing I
wasn't
anymore was lost in the woods. I'd survived — barely, but I
had
survived. Now it was time to go home, or what counted as home for the time being.

Sunday, 7:35 a.m.

Elm Street was empty on my walk back, and I made good time as I trudged along the gravel shoulder. The sun was coming up and sending a faint haze of orange above the trees, the birds were singing and the sky was blue. Everything was absolutely peachy keen. Just the same, when I reached the Baxter place, I ducked into the trees. I don't know what I was expecting — a platoon of “zompires” keeping watch for me on the front lawn or maybe just another high-speed chase down the road? Only this time it would be pretty far from high-speed, considering I could barely walk, let alone run.

But there were no monsters waiting for me, no ambushes or chases, no decapitated bodies on the front lawn or apocalyptic fires blazing in the driveway. The Baxters' lawn was empty, their Volvo was parked in the driveway, just like last night, and the curtains were all closed. In short, the Baxter place looked normal. Normal enough for me to start wondering if I'd just imagined those fangs last night. Normal enough for me to think Mom might have been right about the Baxters and Man-Bear just being seriously perturbed about Miles sneaking around taking candid videos of them in their backyard. It was normal enough for me to consider whether Miles might just be a world-class loony tune who'd latched on to the new kid and actually managed to convince him something fishy was going down in Rolling Hills. Of course, that got me thinking about Johnny. Did he really get dragged into the night, or did he just go for a midnight stroll? There was only one way to find out, so I aimed my feet toward the inn and kept shuffling along.

It was already turning into another steamy day when I finally staggered into the driveway, scratching the five hundred or so bug bites that were covering my face, head, neck and arms. My Choke-mandated khakis had managed to save my legs, but I was pretty sure I even had a few bites inside my ears. As I turned onto the front walk, passing by Hal's pungent rosebushes, Lilith and Johnny strolled out the front door.

“You're okay?” I stammered.

They were standing in the shade of the porch, holding mugs and wearing sunglasses and ball caps. Johnny had on a Dodgers cap pulled low, while Lilith had opted for a plain black cap that was made out of the same high-tech fiber as the running gear she had on again. While Lilith looked ready to hit the road for a quick twenty-mile run, Johnny was bundled up in gray jogging pants and a black hoodie that made me feel ten degrees hotter just looking at him.

“You're okay?” I repeated.

“Of course,” Lilith said in a flat voice. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, just getting the lay of the land,” I said, stepping onto the porch.

“You're bleeding,” she said and tapped her right temple.

I wiped my hand across my temple, sliding over an abnormally large bug bite, and pulled it away. It was smeared with blood.

“There were a few mosquitoes out last night,” I said. “Do you think I could have a sip of your coffee, Lilith? I'm a tad groggy.”

“Go inside and clean up first. Who knows what you came into contact with last night.”

“You're a real humanitarian, sis,” I said, scratching the back of my neck. “What happened to you last night, Johnny?”

“I came home and went to bed,” he said.

“But how'd you get in? The door was locked.”

“Through the back,” he said.

“Did Hal let you in?”

“The door was open.”

“Why didn't you wake me up? I was sitting right there,” I said, pointing in the general direction of the sitting room.

“I went to bed,” he said and sipped from his coffee.

That's when I noticed his hand was wrapped in white gauze.

“What happened to your hand?” I asked.

“I cut it.”

“How?”

“I don't remember,” he said, looking down at his hand as though it was the first time he'd ever noticed it at the end of his arm.

“But we heard you talking to someone outside — right, Lilith?”

“It was a mistake,” she said and sipped from her own mug.

“Wow, you two sure are chatty. I had more lively conversations with the trees last night.”

I was expecting Lilith to say something that was supposed to be wise, something that she'd absorbed from one of Dad's books, or for Johnny to say something like, “Chillax, bro, and enjoy the quietude of the morning,” but they both just stood there and sipped coffee. I also noticed that their faces, under their sunglasses, looked wooden. Their mouths were practically straight lines. That was a standard look for Lilith, but the only time Johnny wasn't sporting a charming grin was when he was asleep.

“So, you just came back and went to bed, huh?” I said, backing toward the front door.

Johnny nodded and stared at me.

“You, too, Lilith? You didn't think about telling anyone that I might've gotten lost in the woods?”

“I knew you'd be fine,” she said.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“We're twins, Charlie. I can practically read your mind.”

They were creeping me out. Having them just stare at me like that — especially Johnny, who was usually all sunshine and lollipops — was seriously throwing me off.

“And you didn't see anything strange last night?” I asked.

“No,” they said in unison.

“I think I'll go check on Mom,” I said.

They didn't move. They just stood there holding their mugs, watching me.

“Why don't you just wait here and relax. I'll be right back,” I said, opening the front door and slipping inside.

Was I thinking like a crazy person? Just because Johnny wasn't saying “bro this” and “bro that” didn't mean he had some kind of brain infection and was secretly sporting fangs, did it? No, it didn't, and it didn't mean anything had happened to Mom either. All the same, I bounded up the stairs toward her room. I'd only made it halfway up when she appeared on the landing at the top.

“Good grief, Charlie,” she said, starting down the stairs. “What happened to you?”

“Do you feel all right?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“Can you give me a big, good-morning-sunshine smile?”

“Good morning, sunshine!” she said and flashed me a broad smile as she hustled down the stairs. “Good enough?” she asked, and it disappeared.

“Oh, that's great, Ma! That's just great!” I said, relief sweeping over me. Whatever was going on with Lilith and Johnny, if anything
was
going on with them, it didn't seem to be happening to her.

“No need to gush, Charlie. Now where are Johnny and Lilith? I want to go get breakfast.”

“Out on the —” I started, but she stopped in front of me and grabbed my arms.

“You're covered in bites! What happened?”

“I spent the evening helping the native insect popu-lation with their annual blood drive,” I said. “But that's not important. I don't suppose you've noticed anything different about Lilith and Johnny?”

“I just woke up, and don't change the subject. What do you mean you spent the evening helping the native insect population?”

“I might've spent the night wandering around in the woods, but that's really not important. What's important is where Johnny and Lilith spent the night.”

“Do you mean you spent the entire night out in the woods?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, trying to get her to forget about me for a second, “but, Mom, where did Lilith and Johnny spend the night? Were they here?”

“We need to go to the pharmacy and get some cream for those,” she said, taking a closer look at my arms.

“That sounds like an amazing idea, believe me, but why don't we check on Lilith and Johnny first?”

“There's dried blood all over your neck,” she said. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”

“Mom, you have to check on Lilith and Johnny. Do you understand?”

“Okay,” she said. “Where are they?”

“On the porch. But before we go out,” I said, walking across the foyer, “they don't seem quite right to me. Let's be careful, okay?”

“Charlie, I'm not in the mood for jokes,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Neither am I,” I muttered, and briefly considered the possibility that Miles and Vortex were pulling off an elaborate practical joke on Charles R. Harker.

I was hoping Mom could drag more information out of Johnny about what he'd been up to last night, but the porch was empty except for two mugs, half-filled with coffee, sitting on the railing.

“Are they going to pop out and scare me, Charlie?”

“Possibly,” I said, glancing around. “They were just here.”

“Johnny! Lilith! I am not in the mood for a practical joke!” she shouted, stepping off the porch.

“Lilith! Johnny!” I yelled, sticking close to Mom. “Show yourselves! It's me, your brother, Charlie, and Mom's here, too! Don't attack us, okay!”

Mom stopped and looked at me. “Are you all right? Did you hit your head last night?”

“Possibly,” I said, looking around for any sign of Johnny or Lilith. “Maybe we should just head into town. Heck, I bet they've already left for breakfast,” I added, half-pushing her toward the truck. “We should probably go.”

“But Johnny's motorcycle is still here,” she said, pointing at his motorcycle, which was still parked beside the truck.

“They probably walked,” I said, now dragging her toward the driveway. “If we hurry, we might be able to pick them up along the way.”

I was 99.9 percent sure they hadn't decided to walk into town, but I was also pretty sure I didn't want to find them. Call it intuition or call it insanity, but my gut was telling me to get out of the front yard and into the truck, fast.

“I don't think they'd leave without us,” Mom said, “and I don't need to be pulled along,” she added, yanking her arm out of my hands.

“It's just that these bites are getting ridiculously itchy,” I said, and scratched a few of them frantically. It felt like heaven.

“You're sure they're not inside?”

“Let's just get them some takeout,” I said, scanning the trees beyond the driveway for any sign of movement. “That way we can get cracking on the renovations right away.”

Mom glanced at me sideways and then shouted, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“That's not a good thing to say right now, Ma. Please, let's go,” I said, scratching my neck. “I need to get something for these bites.”

“Fine,” she said at last, and we headed for the truck.

Sunday, 8:00 a.m.

I made sure to check the backseat before we got in. I didn't want anyone springing up at us once the truck was on the road. It was empty, so I relaxed for a few minutes and was able to focus on scratching my bites while we drove to Church Street.

“Can you explain to me how you ended up spending the night in the woods, Charlie?” Mom asked, as we turned off of Elm Street and started down Oak Avenue.

“That's an excellent question,” I said, scratching some more. Oak Avenue was deserted.

“Well, are you going to answer it?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, noticing, off to my right, that the front gate of a white picket fence had been torn off its hinges. It now lay in the middle of the perfectly manicured lawn. The old white house beyond it also had one of its front windows smashed out. One big, jagged piece still shot up from the middle, but thick brown drapes were closed behind it. In fact, all of the windows were covered up in that house.

“Charlie?” Mom asked.

A black SUV was parked right in the middle of the next lawn. All four doors were hanging open.

“That's strange,” Mom said, noticing the SUV. “I hope everyone's all right.”

“Yeah,” I said, and noted that all the curtains and drapes were closed in that house, too.

The next house looked fine, and so did the next, although there wasn't a single one with a window open or uncovered.