Whispers From the Grave (20 page)

BOOK: Whispers From the Grave
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“Alright!” he exclaimed, his eyes shining. Soon, I was swept away in those beautiful brown eyes as we flirted and laughed.

I skipped stone after stone, with Shane gently guiding me through each one. I relished the sensation of his warm hand on my arm and the way he dimpled into that gorgeous grin each time I succeeded.

I didn’t notice the sun sinking toward the horizon. I didn’t hear Rita and Ben get up and walk away. I didn’t notice anything but Shane—until I heard my sister scream.

22

I spun away from the water and scanned the
group scattered on the logs.
Where was my sister?

A few kids still hovered around the keg, but Ben and Rita were missing.

The scream had come from some distance away, and I took off running in that direction. As I fairly flew over the rocky shore, a loud pop cracked the air. It sounded like a gunshot.

He’s shot her! He’s shot my sister!

I stopped. My stomach heaved. The next seconds felt like years, and I imagined barnacles could take root on my shoes as I stood there, too frightened to move.

What awful sight would greet me around the bend? The terrible possibilities barely had a chance to shadow my mind when Rita shrieked, “You little brat!”

She was alive.

Breathless, I raced around the corner and saw Ben and Rita, arms circling each other’s waists as they stared up at the wooded hill.

“What happened?” I cried. “I heard you scream and I heard a gun!”

“That wasn’t a gun,” Ben said. “That was a firecracker.”

“I screamed because Chuck threw a sea whip at me,” Rita explained, pointing at the hill.

I could barely make out the shape of the little blond boy emerging from the shadows.

“Knock it off, kid,” Ben said. “Don’t throw any more stuff at us—especially not firecrackers.”

“I wasn’t throwing them at
you
!” he replied indignantly. “I was throwing them at a bear.”

“I don’t see any bear,” Rita said.

“He swam away,” Chuck said. “He escaped from the Woodland Park Zoo after he ate three zookeepers. Now he’s probably going to eat you too.”

“Stop telling stories, Chuck,” she said.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he taunted, and scampered up the hill.

“That’s my neighbor,” Rita explained to me. “He’s always popping out of the bushes and scaring me.”

“I met him earlier,” I said.

A firecracker suddenly exploded at our feet. We all jumped, our eardrums smarting.

“Stop lighting those firecrackers!” Rita yelled. “They aren’t toys, Chuck. Somebody could get hurt.”

Why did those words sound like a prophecy?

Suddenly I knew. I knew why the warning echoed so eerily and why the little boy was so familiar. He was Mr. Edwards.

A flash of light zipped passed us and another firecracker popped nearby.

“You brat!” Rita screamed.

“Chuck,
please
stop!” I pleaded. “If one of those things blows up in your face, it could blind you.”

“I’m not scared,” he said. “I have a big box of them. My brother gave them to me before he left for Vietnam. I’ve already set off a bunch of them.”

Mr. Edwards’s scarred face and unseeing eyes flashed before me. “Please, Chuck!” I begged. “Please don’t set off any more!”

He said, “Mind your own business or I won’t let you ride in my helicopter.”

“We have to tell his mother,” I said, frantically turning to the others.

“Mrs. Addison won’t care,” Rita said with a shrug. “That kid runs wild.”

“What about his dad?” I suggested. “Maybe he can stop him.”

“That was Mrs. Addison’s first husband—about three husbands ago,” she explained. “He’s not around anymore. There’s no stopping that boy.”

“But he could be hurt!”
I argued.

“It would serve him right,” Ben said. “He’s such a brat.”

I whirled to face him. “You’re an uncaring frete!” I cried.

Ben laughed nervously. “I don’t know what a frete is, but I don’t like your tone.”

“It’s an Idaho expression,” I said. “And
I
don’t like your attitude!”

I hadn’t planned to spar with a killer. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do. But I hated him so much, I couldn’t help it.

“Jenna,” Rita said helplessly.
“Please!”
But I was angrily stomping away, pausing only to kick over Ben’s beer.

“Hey!” he cried. “Watch what you’re doing!”

“Whoops,” I said sarcastically. “Was that your beer? I didn’t see it.”

“What’s your problem?” Ben snarled.

“What’s
yours
?” I retorted.

Shane came around the bend, confused to find me arguing with his best friend. “Mellow out, you guys,” he said and turned to me. “Why did you take off like that?”

“Didn’t you hear my sister scream?”

“Girls are always screaming.” He sounded unconcerned. “I thought some guy threw his girlfriend in the water or put a crab in her hair.”

I was the only one who recognized danger. The only one who knew this night could spell murder. But everyone thought I was paranoid.

For the rest of the evening, Shane watched me curiously as I watched Rita. I didn’t dare let her out of my sight again.

I was exhausted from worry when we finally got home. But sleep would not take me. Each time I shut my eyes, an image of a troubled little boy filled my mind. Chuck was heading straight for tragedy and no one cared.

How could I save him? Wasn’t there anything I could do?

He was so possessive of the box in the tree house. Was that where he kept his precious firecrackers?

As Rita softly snored, her long hair splayed out on the pillow, I climbed out the window and down the tree. With the moon lighting my way, I found Chuck’s tree house and crept up the rope ladder. Just as I suspected, the wooden box stashed in the corner was filled with firecrackers. I lugged the box to the beach and spilled its contents in the surf.


Hey!
What are you doing?”

I turned to see Chuck, his mouth contorted in fury.

“It’s for your own good,” I told him. “You’re too young for those things.”

“I’m older than
you
!” he said. “I’m nineteen and I’m a midget.”

“Yeah, right.”

His little face crumpled and he sobbed, “My
brother
gave me those firecrackers!”

Impulsively, my arms reached out to hug him, but he pushed me away. “I hate you!” he said and kicked me.

What could I say to make him understand? I’d just spared him a lifetime of darkness. And made myself into his
enemy.

“I didn’t do it to be mean,” I said quietly, but he refused to look at me.

If I went back to 2070, would the elderly Chuck Edwards remember what I did for him? Would he thank me? Or would he still believe that a cruel teenage girl ruined the gift his brother gave him— simply to be mean?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Chuck could still see. His mother would not have to turn away when she looked at him. He would not have to be bitter.

As I headed for home, the moon slipped behind the clouds. Immersed in darkness, I walked along the beach, heading unsteadily toward the lights of the houses on the hill. I knew the tide was coming in, for the waves were loud—tumbling furiously as they raced to flood the beach. A sharp, deliberate crunch cut through the persistent rhythm of the waves.
Footsteps!
Was someone following me?

I held my breath and listened. Perhaps it was just someone from one of the beach houses walking his dog. If I couldn’t see them, then they couldn’t see me. They would probably walk right past me. It would have been reassuring if the footsteps had continued. But they stopped when I did. Someone was standing nearby, listening.
Waiting!

Maybe it was Chuck tormenting me.

But what if it
wasn’t
? The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose.

I broke into a run. My feet found the wooden steps below Banbury House, and I bounded up them, no longer trying to be quiet. At the top, I raced along the dirt path. Plunging through the shadows, I slammed into something—
someone
!
The collision knocked my breath away. Cruel fingers dug into my arms. I looked up into the shadowy face of Ben.

23

“Let go of me!” I cried, twisting away.

“Then watch where you’re going,” he said gruffly.

I tried to move past him, but he grabbed my arm. “Wait a minute,” he said.

“I have to go home.”

“I just want to ask you something.” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.

I backed away, putting several feet between us. “Don’t come any closer,” I warned, trying to keep my voice from quavering.

The moon floated free from the clouds, casting an eerie light on Ben’s strong features. His eyes seemed to glimmer and I froze, caught in his stare like a frightened deer in bright headlights. The crazy drumming of my own heart filled my ears. My mouth was dry as dust.

Was this the night? Was this the night Ben was supposed to kill my sister? Would he kill me this time, because I was the one who crossed his murderous path?

I was edging away from him when he spoke again. “How come you hate me?”

The question startled me. I cautiously weighed my answer. “You’re not good for my sister.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You drink too much, Ben.”

“You think I’m an alcoholic?” He said, laughing much too loudly. “I’m just partying a little. I’m not hurting anybody.”

What was I doing, standing there in the dark, trying to reason with a killer?

As he took a drunken step toward me, I dodged out of his way and bolted up the path. I don’t think I even breathed again until I’d scrambled up the tree and tumbled through the open window into Rita’s room. She muttered something in her sleep as I locked the window.

I crawled deep into my thick sleeping bag, my teeth chattering. I couldn’t stop shaking. I wasn’t cold. I was frightened. For both of us.
Calm down,
I told myself. But how could I with Ben lurking out there on the path—
stalking us
?

Obviously, he’d been watching the house. If only Rita would believe me!

I should have left him on the beach when he passed out in the water. The tide would have washed in and solved all my problems.
I
should have let him drown!

In the blazing light of day, I was never as frightened as I was at night. My encounter with Ben faded like a forgotten nightmare as my friends and I celebrated in the school halls on Thursday morning.

“We won!” Rita laughed. “I can’t believe those dorks actually backed down.”

“They were scared of a lawsuit,” Lynn said.

The new dress code allowed girls to wear jeans, as long as they were “tidy with no frayed edges or holes.”

I felt heady with the victory. The protest would have eventually taken place without me, yet I liked knowing I’d helped.

I enrolled in school under the name Jenna Mills and vowed to spend my days near my sister. I was assigned to the same homeroom as Rita, along with the rest of those with last names beginning with M through S.

Shane moved his seat next to mine—much to April’s disappointment. When he saw me doodling, he asked me to draw something on his notebook. While I sketched a mermaid, we talked. We talked about
everything
—music, parties, school, the dress code. It had never been so easy to talk to a boy before. But eventually the conversation rolled around to Ben.

“I know he’s your friend,” I said. “But I don’t like him. I wish he’d leave my sister alone.”

“I don’t hear
her
complaining,” he said, grinning.

“Ben’s a drunk,” I spat. “One of these days he'll get so bombed he’ll do something he’ll regret.”

“Wow. You’re serious,” he said, his velvety brown eyes thoughtful. “I’ve known Ben forever. He drinks because he’s got a rotten home life, but he's an okay guy.”

I shivered, wishing Shane knew what I knew. If only I had someone to confide in!

At school, at least, my sister seemed safe. Besides homeroom, we shared four classes and lunch. That meant just two hours I could not guard her.

She and Ben had History class before lunch. He certainly wouldn’t murder her with Mr. Frink and a whole class watching!

Still, I was relieved when the school day ended and Rita and I boarded the bus to head for Twin-Star, where she was scheduled for a PK session.

A lab assistant took my sister to a private room for a dice experiment much like the one I’d taken part in.

Sky invited me to wait in his office, a small, untidy room with stale air. “Excuse the mess,” he said. “Dr. Crowell split and I haven’t had time to clean up after him.”

I plucked a framed photograph of a young girl from a box overflowing with junk in the corner. “Who’s this?”

“Dr. Crowell’s daughter.”

“Is this the stuff from his desk?”

Sky nodded. “The old dude finally cracked under the pressure and just took off. He was a genius but undependable.”

“Where did he go?”

“Who knows? His wife left him and took the kid with her. She didn’t even tell him where they were moving. Maybe he went to find her.”

“He didn’t even say good-bye?”

“Did
you
?”

“What?”

“Say good-bye?” he asked, his green eyes burning into mine. “Or did you just
leave
?”

“I just left,” I said softly.

His voice brimming with understanding, Sky said, “Maybe I can help you. You must be worried about getting back home.”

I gasped. “What do you mean?”

Sky reached into his desk and pulled out a crude version of the visor. “I have spent the last five months immersed in a theory that has convinced me time travel is possible through PK ability and a device like this.”

I stared at the visor on the desk, aware my eyes held a glimmer of recognition, aware Sky could read the truth in them.

“I only had to look at you to know you’re Rita's sister,” he said. “From certain angles, you almost look like twins. And I know for a fact Rita has only two siblings, her brother and the frozen embryo. Did you travel here using a visor like this?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved to finally share the truth.

BOOK: Whispers From the Grave
7.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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