Don't Stay Up Late (16 page)

And then a scream. A hideous painful scream. A scream that didn't stop. It seemed to ring in my ears forever. Frozen there in panic on the porch, I instantly knew I would never forget this scream. Never be able to erase it from my ears.

And then I saw the creature lope away, half-trot, half-stagger toward the darkness of the street. I saw it. And I heard it grunt … grunt with panting breaths as it staggered away.

“Nooooooo.” A long, horrified moan burst from deep inside me as I saw the body, a heap on the grass near the driveway.

I turned back to the house. Where was Saralynn? Still upstairs?

And then my legs carried me … Against my will, my legs carried me over the grass, wet with evening dew, over the soft swaying grass toward the heap on the ground.

I stopped a few feet away. My stomach lurched. I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from puking. Pressed both hands over my mouth and stared at the mutilated body.

Isaac.

Yes. Isaac.

His eyes stared up at me, wide and blank and shiny as glass. His mouth hung open, locked in a silent scream.

His T-shirt was ripped down the front. His stomach was torn open, the skin split right down the middle. His intestines, pink in the moonlight … half-eaten … half-
eaten
 … like sausage links … spilled onto the grass.

 

41.

“Where were you when Lisa discovered the body?”

Captain Rivera had his arms crossed in front of him, his eyes on Nate.

We were back in the little, windowless room at the Shadyside precinct house. Sitting tense around the table. Once again, my mother hunched on a folding chair behind me. Across the table were Nate and Saralynn and their fathers. Captain Rivera perched restlessly at his end of the table, a paper container of coffee, an iPad, and a writing pad in front of him.

Across from him, a woman officer. I think her name was Clemens. She had short, dark hair brushed straight back, tiny black eyes over a stub of a nose. She grimaced and scowled as if she didn't want to be there. She kept fiddling with the cuffs of her black uniform shirt.

“I wasn't there,” Nate answered. His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “I was in my car. Driving around. Trying to find Isaac.” Nate kept scratching his face and twitching his nose. He seemed really tense.

The room was hot. There was no air-conditioning. Nate had large beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Where did you look for him?” Rivera asked.

“Uh … well … I started at his house,” Nate said. “He wasn't there. He was supposed to come join us after his band practice. But practice was over, I guess. No one was at his house.”

“So then what did you do?” Rivera asked.

“Drove around the block a few times,” Nate replied, wiping sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “I drove past the school. Looking for his car. I didn't know if he was walking or driving.”

Rivera typed something on the iPad. “So you weren't near Brenda Hart's house at around ten thirty? You were still driving around, searching for your friend?”

Nate nodded. “Yes. That's right.”

Rivera turned his gaze to Officer Clemens. “Did the coroner send over a time of death?”

She shook her head. “Still working on it. He said it had to be between nine and ten thirty.”

“Saralynn, let me ask you the same question,” Rivera said, stroking his mustache with the palm of his hand. “Where were you when Lisa discovered the body? Were you still in the house?”

Saralynn had tear stains on her cheeks. She had been crying nonstop all morning. She said she hadn't slept for one second last night after I found Isaac in the grass.

I'd never known her to be so emotional. But, of course, I didn't know her that well. And this was an extreme situation.

That morning, I asked myself why I didn't cry. I decided I was in some kind of shock. I didn't want to believe any of this was happening. Actually, I told myself I'd be happy if it was all another hallucination, all my own nightmare, or just happening in my poor, broken mind.

Weird thoughts.

But who wouldn't have weird thoughts after finding two people you know torn to pieces?

“Yes, I was in the house,” Saralynn said. “I didn't know Lisa went outside. I was upstairs, looking for Harry.”

“The little boy,” Rivera said. “And where did you find Harry?”

“He was hiding,” Saralynn said. “Hiding in a closet in a guest room. He said he heard shouts that scared him.”

Rivera narrowed his eyes at Saralynn. “He heard shouts? Inside the house or outside the house?”

Saralynn hesitated. “I … don't know. Maybe he heard Lisa screaming.”

“I screamed when I saw something at the top of the stairs,” I offered.

“I know,” Rivera said, frowning. “We'll get to that in a minute.” He motioned to Saralynn. “Go on. What about Harry? He heard shouts, so he hid in a closet? Like the last murder, am I right?”

“I don't know,” Saralynn said. “I wasn't there last time.” She wiped tears off her cheeks with a tissue. “We knew Harry was freaked last night. We didn't tell him there was a murder. But he was very upset. We had to call the police, and I guess he overheard us. And he kind of lost it.”

Rivera blinked. “Lost it?”

“Started crying and screaming he wanted his mom,” I chimed in. “He knew something was very wrong. He could see how upset Saralynn and I were. So he became very frightened.”

“We did everything we could to calm him down,” Saralynn added. “And we didn't tell him what happened outside. He just picked up the vibe, I guess.”

“He has a condition,” I told Rivera. “He's not supposed to stay up late. It messes up his brain circuits or something. His mom is angry at me for letting him stay up last night. But Saralynn and I were downstairs. We didn't even know he was still awake.”

Rivera typed some more on the iPad. His fingers were stubby, and he kept making mistakes. He sighed. “Okay, I guess we have no choice,” he said, turning to me. “I guess we have to discuss this creature thing. But I'm warning you, Lisa—”

“I saw it at the top of the stairs,” I insisted. “I swear. That's why I screamed.”

Officer Clemens leaned forward. “What are we talking about here?” she asked.

“Some kind of creature,” I said, my voice shaking. My heart was pounding. I knew they didn't want to believe me. “He walks on two feet. He looks like a man. Except his face is twisted and ugly, like a demon. And—”

“Like a demon in a horror movie?” Rivera interrupted. “Do you watch a lot of horror movies, Lisa?”

His question was hostile. He was accusing me of hallucinating the thing. But I knew I'd seen it. I knew. At least, I was pretty sure.…

“I don't like horror movies,” I replied. “Ask Nate. Nate is a horror freak.”

Rivera turned to Nate. “Is that true? Did you see a horror-movie demon in Brenda Hart's house?”

Nate shook his head. “No. Lisa says she saw it after I left the house to go look for Isaac.”

“I can describe him totally,” I insisted. “I'm not making him up. His skin is tinted greenish, a light green. He has red eyes that appear to glow, sunk deep in his face. His head is bald except for a strip of thick black fur in the middle of his scalp. His ears are pointed and stand straight up.”

My voice broke. I wanted so desperately to be believed. “I couldn't make that up, Captain Rivera,” I said. “I don't have that good of an imagination.”

“Oh, I think you do,” Rivera said.

It was a stinging comment, meant to hurt me. And it did.

Rivera didn't let up. He leaned closer to me. “You've had some mental problems, is that right?”

“Mental problems?” My voice broke. “No. Not really. I—”

“You've had bad nightmares. You've seen things that weren't there?”

“She's working with a doctor,” my mom chimed in.

“Mom—
stay out of it!
” I shrieked. I realized immediately I shouldn't have yelled like that.

I have to act calm. I can't give them any reason to think I'm crazy or unbalanced.

Rivera's eyes burned into mine. “Lisa, did you have some kind of nightmare in which you were angry at Summer and Isaac? Did you maybe have a dream that you attacked them?”

I uttered a loud gasp. “Are you
accusing
me?” I cried. “Do you think I could have murdered those kids?” My heart was drumming so hard, I could barely get the words out.

“Do we need to get a lawyer?” my mom asked Rivera.

He raised both hands. “I'm not accusing your daughter. I have to ask every question.” He leaned forward again. “Lisa, this demon-creature you say you saw … Was it YOU? Is it possible that you created this monster because you couldn't face what
you
did to Summer and Isaac?”

A hush fell over the room. It was like time had stopped. All eyes were on me. No one even blinked.

My whole body went rigid. I forced myself to breathe. And then a scream burst out of me from deep in my throat. “
Noooo!
I'm not crazy and I'm not a murderer!”

My mother jumped to her feet. “Lisa and I are leaving,” she told Rivera through gritted teeth. “We don't have to sit here and—”

Rivera waved her back down. “I'm sorry. I am not trying to upset you. But a boy and girl have been brutally murdered. They were your friends. And you are the only one who seems to know who killed them.”

“No. Wait,” I choked out. “I didn't say—”

“You tell me it's some kind of monster,” Rivera interrupted. “I'm sorry. I can't accept that, Lisa. I need you to tell me the truth. Why won't you tell me what you
really
saw?”

“But I
did
!” I insisted.

Silence now. He kept his eyes narrowed on me, studying me. Waiting for me to say more.

He thinks I'm an insane murderer.

A sob escaped my throat. My mother squeezed my hand.

Rivera sighed and brushed a hand back over his shaved head. Finally, he turned his gaze from me. “Saralynn,” he said, “you were in the living room with Lisa when she looked up the staircase and screamed. Did you see the creature, too?”

Saralynn, tears in her eyes, silently mouthed words across the table to me: “I'm sorry.”

She wiped the tears with one finger. “Lisa pointed to the top of the stairs,” she said softly. “She was screaming. I mean, she was in a total panic. But I didn't see anything up there.”

“Did you see a shadow or something?” Clemens chimed in. “Something that might resemble a figure up there?”

Saralynn shook her head. “No. Nothing. Lisa kept screaming and pointing. Telling me the creature was up there looking down on us. But … but the stairs were empty. I didn't see anything. Not anything. I felt so bad for her.”

She turned to me. “I'm so sorry, Lisa. But there wasn't anyone up there. I'm so sorry.”

I didn't react. I didn't reply. It was like my brain froze. I suddenly felt numb. Totally numb all over.

Rivera asked Saralynn a few more questions. But I didn't hear their conversation. I saw Saralynn's mouth moving, but I couldn't hear the words.

I had a loud whistling in my ears. The sound of my brain freezing, I guess. I didn't even try to hear what they were saying.

I can't tell you how frightening it is to have your friends and everyone else think you are crazy. And maybe even a deranged murderer. It's frightening and frustrating and makes it impossible to think clearly or act normally, or act at all.

When the question session was over, and we were all out on the street, Nate and Saralynn hugged me and then disappeared as quickly as they could, along with their parents.

I was left standing there in the precinct parking lot with my mom. Still numb. Still hearing that shrill whistling in my ears. Still lost in my jumbled thoughts, wondering what really happened last night.

And I turned to Mom and tugged at her good arm. “I n-need to see Doctor Shein,” I stammered. “I think … I think I really need her help. Saralynn was there with me. She didn't see the creature. But I saw it so clearly, as if it was real. What's
wrong
with me?”

 

42.

Dr. Shein chewed the eraser on her pencil. Behind her, rain pattered the window. She had a vase of yellow lilies on the corner of her desk, and the sweet aroma washed over the office, so strong it made my eyes water.

She listened in silence as I sat in the red leather armchair across from her and told my sad story. Her face remained expressionless. Behind her glasses, her eyes trained on me. She didn't blink.

As I talked, I watched the raindrops slide slowly down the window. Like teardrops, I thought. The patter of the rain … the ticking clock on her glass desk … the hoarse sound of my voice as I relived the horrifying night … Those were the only sounds.

And when I stopped talking—silence.

Dr. Shein chewed at her eraser. Her gaze rose over my shoulders. She seemed to disappear into herself, as if she were fading into her thoughts. Even her aqua top under her cream-colored jacket appeared to lose its glow.

When she finally set down the pencil, brushed back her hair, and spoke, her words weren't what I expected to hear. “Lisa,” she said, “I thought you would be further along by now.”

The words stung. I don't think she meant to startle me or upset me. But I expected something a little warmer, a little more encouraging.

She leaned forward. “It's understandable,” she said. “These horrible murders of your friends … they are agitating you even more. And I'm afraid we're left with one difficult question.”

I clasped my hands together tightly. Where was she going with this?