First Date

Into the Dark …

He put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her away from the cliff and back toward the woods behind the road. “We'll walk this way,” he said softly. “I like the woods at night, don't you?”

“It's a little cold,” Chelsea said with a shiver, her breath steaming in front of her, white against the black night. “But I like it,” she added quickly. “It's so peaceful up here.”

He slowed his pace, let Chelsea get a few steps ahead. Then he pulled the length of cord from his jacket pocket, silently untangled it, and pulled it taut between his hands with a silent snap.

Don't miss these chilling tales from

FEAR STREET
®

All-Night Party

The Confession

First Date

Killer's Kiss

The Perfect Date

The Rich Girl

Secret Admirer

The Stepsister

After hours, the horror continues at

FEAR STREET
®
NIGHTS

#1: Moonlight Secrets

#2: Midnight Games

#3: Darkest Dawn

 

A Parachute Press book

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SIMON PULSE
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

Copyright © 1992 by Parachute Publishing, L.L.C.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

SIMON PULSE and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

FEAR STREET is a registered trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.

Designed by Sammy Yuen Jr.

The text of this book was set in Times.

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Simon Pulse edition January 2006

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2

Library of Congress Control Number 2005921099

ISBN-13: 978-1-4169-0819-7
ISBN-10: 1-4169-0819-6
eISBN: 978-1-439-11568-8

 

chapter 1
 

“
W
e can't see out, and no one can see in,” she said, snuggling against his shoulder. “It's like we're in our own private world.”

He smiled at her and hugged her closer. He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss. She closed her eyes. He kept his wide open, staring at the windshield, which was completely steamed over as if covered by a white blanket.

It's so hot in this car, he thought, kissing her again.

I can't breathe.

I've got to get some air. Or I'll die.

She pulled her head back and smiled up at him dreamily. “Joe,” she whispered.

He stared at the windshield, imagining the night beyond it, picturing the tall, wet grass, the dark trees.

Can't breathe. Can't breathe.

She pressed her forehead against his chest and sighed. He could smell oranges in her hair. He could still taste her lipstick on his mouth, sweet and sour at the same time.

What was her name, anyway?

Holding her close, he tried to remember.

Candy.

That was it. Candy Something-or-Other.

It's so steamy in here.

I feel so … locked in. Trapped. As if the car is closing in on me.

“I've never been up here with a boy before,” she said, pressing her face against his leather jacket.

She's smothering me, he thought. I'm going to smother in here.

Why does it have to be so steamy?

He slid his arm away from her and reached for the window handle. He started to roll down his window, but she grabbed his arm. “No. Don't. Someone might see.”

“But we're all alone up here,” he said. “We're lucky there are no other cars tonight.” He took a long, deep breath of cool air before closing the window. Outside, he caught a glimpse of the moon, a pale gray sliver low in the sky.

“I like you, Joe,” Candy said as he moved his arm back around her shoulder.

“I like you too,” he said automatically, immediately
wishing he had sounded more sincere. He kissed her ear.

I'm sweating, he thought. It's October and I'm sweating.

I'm going to suffocate.

She's going to suffocate me.

“I like boys with curly black hair,” she whispered. She brushed her hand tenderly through his hair.

I hate that, he realized.

Mom used to do that to me.

“Let's go for a walk,” he suggested, reaching for the door handle.

“I don't know. Is it safe?” Her dark eyes gleamed with excitement.

He shrugged. “I don't come up here much, either.”

Rainer's Point was the big make-out spot for Central High kids. The narrow road stopped at a grassy clearing that sloped to the edge of a steep rock cliff. Behind the clearing were thick woods.

It was silent out there, except for a whisper of wind through the trees.

“Come on,” he urged, squeezing her hand. “I'll protect you.”

She giggled for some reason.

He pushed open the car door, bathing them in harsh yellow light.

“Wait, Joe,” she said and reached down to the car floor. “You dropped your wallet.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He reached for it.

But he saw it come open. Then he saw her eyes grow wide as she stared at his driver's license inside.

“Joe—?” She raised her eyes to him, questioning him.

Here we go, he thought, his heart racing.

“Joe Hodge,” she said, returning her glance to the driver's license. “You told me your name was Joe Hodge. But your license says Lonnie Mayes.”

“It's—someone else's license,” he said.

I can't breathe.

I'm suffocating.

The car door is open, and I'm still suffocating.

Don't suffocate me, Candy. I'm warning you. Don't do it.

She tossed her long brown hair. It fell quickly back into place. Her expression was thoughtful, troubled. “But it's your picture on the license,” she said. She held it up to show him, as if he hadn't seen it before.

He sighed.

What a shame, he thought.

Why does she want to suffocate me?

Why is she accusing me?

“I lost my license,” he said, taking the wallet
from her hand. “So I'm using this one.” He pushed the wallet into his jacket pocket.

“So you're Joe Hodge? You're not Lonnie Mayes?” she asked, wrinkling her forehead.

What a shame, he thought.

Shame, shame, shame.

He pushed the car door open the rest of the way and slid out. He stood up, arched his back, his hands in his jacket pockets, and stretched. Then he took a deep breath, leaned back in, and smiled reassuringly at her.

“Come on, Candy. Let's take a walk. A short one. It's so nice out here. And there's no one here tonight. No one around for miles.”

No one, he thought, his mind whirring, his muscles tensing.

No one around for miles.

He suddenly felt very alert. Ready.

She stepped out of the car and closed the door. The car light went out, leaving them in darkness.

Taking long, deliberate steps, he crossed the clearing, dew from the tall grass clinging to his shoes, and stared down over the cliff edge. There was nothing but darkness below.

She stepped up beside him and reached for his hand. Her hand felt hot and wet in his. She lowered her eyes to the cliff edge.

“Can we back up?” she asked in a pleading whisper. “I have a problem with heights.”

“Sure,” he said. He began leading her across the clearing toward the trees, walking slowly, squeezing her hand tightly.