The Evil Within (11 page)

“Hurry up,” Mandy said to Lara and me. She wrapped both hands around Shayna’s slack face. “She’s half-frozen.”

I let that simple act of kindness reassure me—or rather, I clung to it like a life ring, hoping that Mandy would stay Mandy and Lara, Lara, as we rushed to the main road, leaving the gym in our wake. I was trembling all over, afraid my knees were going to give way. That was the thing about Mandy—as mean as she was, as thoughtless and cruel, she could also be very charming and sweet. Queen bees didn’t gather loyal followers if the only emotional depth they had consisted of various layers of cruelty. At some point, meanness outweighed any advantages they offered, even for someone as rich and exotic as Mandy.

But there’s Belle
, I reminded myself. Mandy had deliberately let Belle come into her life. Maybe she hadn’t known how dangerous Belle was. Maybe her fear had been real when she’d visited Troy in the hospital.

“What the hell
is
wrong with her?” Lara asked, peering at Shayna.

Dybbuk
, I thought. Had she really said that? I checked her eyes. Not normal, but not completely black. Her lush dark hair, usually straightened, was now frizzed out, almost like she’d been electrocuted. I couldn’t reconcile the person I saw in front of me with the girl who had whispered her worst fears to me. I slipped my hand through hers, lacing gloved fingers, squeezing, trying to get a reaction. There was nothing. It was as if she were . . . empty. After all the screaming, she was left with nothing.

“What did you do to her?” I demanded.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Mandy said. “You’re not blaming this on me. You blame me for everything.”

“What did you do?” My voice rose.

“Jesus, keep your voice down,” Lara snapped.

I pulled Shayna away and wrapped my arm around her waist.

“I didn’t do anything to her. Why would I?” Mandy asked. Her lip curled. “Why would I even bother?”

“You can drop the act,” I said. “There’s no one here but us.”

“Don’t start with me,” Mandy said. “Just shut up and let’s go.”

“Where?” I demanded. “Where are we
really
going?”

Mandy rolled her eyes. “To the infirmary, tea leaf.” She pointed. “Right there.”

Not fifty feet from us, the old Victorian brick building stood like a stalwart guardian beneath the snow. Mandy rang the buzzer beside the green door and Ms. Simonet, our nurse, answered. Her brown hair shot with silver, she was wearing a bathrobe over plaid pajama bottoms, socks, and nurse’s clogs. As I held onto Shayna, Mandy gave an Oscar-winning performance: worried friend, good deed, scared and cold.

“Shayna, did you take anything?” Ms. Simonet asked her. She meant drugs. Shayna was mute. Ms. Simonet got out a penlight and checked her pupils. “Thank you, girls,” she said. “Go back to your dorms.”

“Okay, Ms. Simonet,” Mandy said. She and Lara took off. Resolute, I remained behind.

“Please let me stay,” I begged.

“Sorry.” She gestured for the door. “You’ve done all you could. Go back to bed.”

I touched Shayna’s cheek.

“She’s so cold,” I murmured.

“Say goodnight,” Ms. Simonet ordered me.

“Goodnight, Shayna. I’ll come see you in the morning.” I tried to smile. I felt horrible. I hadn’t done all I could. I should have . . . what? What could I have done?

“
Kill her
,” Celia said aloud, in my voice. I coughed to cover it and left, running as fast as I could.

I FELT THE COLD creeping through my head and down through my body as I headed back to Grose: Celia, making me aware of her presence. I shook harder. I thought Shayna and I were going to pull it off—find a way for me to get rid of Celia that didn’t involve killing. But right now, as I was forced to abandon her, I felt such incredible anger rise inside me—that if Mandy had been there—

Yes
, Celia said.

I stomped back down the main path staring into every shadow, half-expecting Mandy and Lara to jump me. I listened to my overcranked heartbeat roaring in my ears as I reached the door of my dorm, hoping it was unlocked.

As I touched the handle, I heard whispering behind me. I darted into the bushes at the corner, in the darkness, watching as Julie, Marica, and Ida crept anxiously along the path, like enemy soldiers about to launch a surprise attack. Julie was a pale face surrounded by dark fabric; Marica’s long black hair waved in the wind beneath a fur hat. Ida had on a fur-trimmed hoodie and all I could see of her face were her large, dark eyes.

“Oh my God, that was so weird,” Julie whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“I have. When my
abuelo
went crazy,” Marica said. “He was like a, how do you say it, a zombie.”

“Ssh,” Ida murmured. “Someone’s here.”

I stepped from the shadows, and Julie ran to me and threw her arms around me.

“Linz!” she cried. “What happened? Where is Shayna?”

“We walked her to the infirmary.” I took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to leave her.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to either,” Julie said. She studied my face, silently asking questions I had no answers for.

“Well, what are they doing with her?” Ida demanded.

“
Guys
,” Ida remonstrated. “Don’t wake up Mrs. Krige.”

“What were you guys doing before you came in the gym?” I asked, trying to make some sense of it all. “Did Mandy move the skinny-dipping from the lake?”

“Yeah, because it’s so cold,” Julie said. The others nodded. “It started in the statue garden—”

Just then, a light went on in our bathroom, illuminating the window I had left open.

“Shit,” Ida said. “Is that Krige?”

We all crouched down, watching as a head poked out. It was Claire, who’d come back ahead of everyone else. We stood and dashed over, Julie in the lead, and Claire leaned out, gesturing for us to climb in.

“You guys, get in here,” Claire said. “Ms. Krige is up.”

We clambered in, even me, and sped through the bathroom. Julie and I flew into our room, where we stripped off our clothes and put on our pajamas, hopped into our beds. I was shaking so hard my head began to throb.

“I’m scared,” Julie whispered. “It was awful.” Then, after a beat, “Were you ever like that? Like Shayna was? Um, when you had your . . . breakdown?”

“No,” I told her, and it was true. “I just cried a lot, and I couldn’t sleep.” I tried to breathe, but my chest was too tight. Shayna. What had they done to her?

What were they doing to her now?

The hall light came on; I could see the light beneath our door, and then there was a soft rap on our door.

“Come in,” Julie said.

It was Ms. Krige, in a long belted apricot bathrobe and a pair of fluffy slippers. She was wearing foam curlers. I didn’t even know you could still buy them. She stood in the doorway for a moment, as if letting her eyes adjust.

“I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” she said. “Sorry to disturb you, girls.”

She shut the door. It was the first time she had ever checked on us. Ever.

Julie turned on the spindly ebony lamp on the nightstand between our beds; the white head gleamed. Julie was clutching Panda to her chest, and she looked like she was ten years old at the most.

“What is going on?” she said.

I got up and went into the hall. Ms. Krige was heading toward her own room by now, and I caught up with her.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Is it Shayna? I was one of the girls who found her wandering around. I know I should have gotten you, but . . . ”

“Her parents have been called. She’ll be going home.”

“No,” I breathed.

“Dr. Ehrlenbach is with her in the infirmary.” She cupped my cheek. “She’s in good hands.”

No
, I wanted to shout,
she’s not
.
No one here is in good hands.

“Go back to bed.” Her voice was kind. Ms. Krige liked me; I wasn’t a rich, spoiled girl who treated her like hired help. At least, that was what she told me when we had parted for winter break. “Try to get some sleep.”

She left me there, and I headed back into our room. Julie was sitting cross-legged, Panda in her lap. The white head was gazing at me. I ignored it and walked to the window. The figure I had seen in Mandy’s window was gone.

“Shayna’s been locked up before,” Julie said, quietly.

“Who told you that?”

“She . . . she sees things.” Her voice was strained.

Like I do
, I wanted to fill in. But I kept my face to the window.

“She was on meds,” Julie continued. “Maybe she stopped taking them. Or something.”

Or something.
I clenched my hands together. “Why didn’t I know this?”

“I thought you did. Everybody knows, Linz.” She exhaled. “If you were, um, if
you
had a problem . . . I’d be here for you.”

She’s afraid I might go bonkers, too. Correction: that I’ll go bonkers
again
.

“Thanks,” I said, fighting back tears. Julie was so sweet, but there was no way she would believe me if I told her what was really going on. I had tried to before, and she made me promise to get help. She had no memory of that horrible night, the night I had almost died.

Almost been
murdered.

“You really took charge tonight,” Julie praised me. She touched her short hair as if gathering up a phantom braid, and then played with her earring instead—a plain gold stud.

“You’re so good. I think that’s why you get . . . you have so much
trouble
,” Julie said warmly. “You worry about people. That’s nice.” She gave me another hug, and I made her an unspoken promise—that I would keep her safe.

“It must have been so hard for you,” she mused, dropping her voice to a whisper, “watching your mom get sicker. Not being able to help.” She smiled sadly at me, and I shrugged. It
was
hard. It was horrible.

She looked thoughtful. “Mandy and those guys are still into all that ghost story stuff, like last semester. They’re talking about holding this big group séance. Maybe we could ask if we could—”

“No.” I was nearly yelling and she jumped. “No,” I said more quietly. “That stuff is . . . ” I shook my head. “It’s not good for you.”

A tiny hint of petulance flared across her features, and I could almost hear her snapping back,
You’re not the boss of me
.

“It’s not good for anybody,” I added, seeing Shayna melt down all over again. A flash of movement in Academy Quad caught my attention; the hair rose on the back of my head as Mandy and Lara slid through the snow, holding onto each other’s arms and laughing. They looked like spiders as they darted along the icy path. As I started to step away from the window, Lara looked up; she jostled Mandy, and both of them smiled straight at me, and waved. I didn’t wave back. Mandy twirled in a little circle, and they melted into the darkness, heading down the hill for Jessel.

“Tell me about the prank,” I said, remaining at the window. Standing guard. “Go through the whole thing.”

“It was kind of random,” Julie said vaguely, as if she didn’t want to talk about it. “Charlotte had to find this old locket, like a scavenger hunt. All she knew was that it was in the statue garden. Mandy has this mannequin and they dressed it up like a goddess and put it with the others. They put the locket around its neck and when Charlotte walked up to it, they made it move. She almost had a heart attack.”

“How hilarious,” I muttered.

“Charlotte was a good sport about it. Then she had to jump in the pool. Well you were there. Mandy’s so pissed about that locket. Maybe it’s back in the statue garden.”

“Maybe,” I said, but I didn’t care.

I remembered the image on my camera and the light in the window. The footfalls. Had that really been Shayna, sneaking up to spook me?

If it hadn’t been, who was it? Did Shayna see? Is that what had pushed her over the edge? I could almost hear her voice in my brain, ricocheting like an echo.

Suddenly, the light in Mandy’s turret room went on. The door was open and she walked in, holding something under her arm. A white head. Lara brought up the rear, and when they turned sideways, I realized they were carrying a mannequin between them. They set it up at the window, positioning it just so. It was the figure I had seen, now wrapped in some kind of plaster-looking Grecian robe.

They waved at me again. I felt coldness seeping through me.

Mandy blew me a kiss.

A little while later, the lights finally went out in Mandy’s room. I don’t know how long I stood staring out the window. I thought it was only for a minute but maybe it was more, because when I turned and faced Julie, she was curled up around Panda, fast asleep.

TAKE CARE
of the worst ones first. The ones who will try to escape. And then . . .

I woke up with Julie standing over me, gently shaking my shoulder. It was still the middle of the night, pitch-black through the windows.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re having another bad dream.” She looked tired and freaked out. “Again.”

“Sorry,” I said. Everyone had nightmares, I wanted to remind her, but coming so fast after Shayna’s meltdown—and with Julie’s knowledge of my own emotional shattering—a Lindsay Anne Cavanaugh nightmare took on special significance. Especially if it recurred at least a dozen times in the same night.

I couldn’t keep doing it, or Julie would walk
me
down to the infirmary. Maybe I should pretend to have “an episode” of my own, so I could see Shayna and make sure she was all right—a relative term, if there ever was one.

But there was no guarantee a scheme like that would work—and so many possibilities for it to backfire all over me.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“Maybe it would help if you talked about it,” Julie ventured. She sat on the edge of my bed and smoothed a corkscrew of hair off my cheek. Staring down at it, she pushed at it with the palm of her hand, fascinated.

“Hey,” I teased.

“Sorry. It’s just so springy,” she said. Her weary, worn-out smile was kind. “So, what do you keep dreaming about?”

I could never tell her.

“I’m in Paris, at a fashion show,” I said. She listened carefully. “And my platinum American Express card is
denied
.
And Paris Hilton sees it happen
.”

I smiled, and Julie batted me. “You freak! I almost believed you.”

“And yet, you got better grades than me last term. How can that possibly
be
?”

She yawned, and I patted her on the shoulder. “I promise not to have any more nightmares tonight,” I said. “Okay?”

“Okay.” She gave my hair another pat, but I could see the worry in her eyes. She honestly cared about me. But she really did think I was a whack job. Julie had been very sheltered—until she came to Marlwood, anyway. I wondered if her parents, like mine, pictured Marlwood as a protective cocoon where their little silkworm would metamorphose into a butterfly. We would have been safer in the Middle East.

After she got back in bed, she whispered, “Good night,” turned out the light and settled in. Soon her soft breathing told me she was asleep. I lay staring at the ceiling, praying for the dawn, wanting so badly for the night to end. I tried to keep my eyes open, force myself to stay awake.

But I was exhausted. Before I knew it, I could feel myself falling asleep . . .

Take care of the worst ones first. The ones who will try to escape. And then . . .