forty one
I made it about five miles down the road before I had to pull over and get sick. Afterwards I felt much better. The cool air lessened my headache considerably too. I grabbed my water bottle out of the car, swished it in my mouth, and spit it out.
Walking back, I checked Mom’s car for the inevitable dent from hitting the bridge but there was none. “I could have sworn…”
Birds scattered from the trees suddenly. I turned around and looked into the woods. An overwhelming feeling came over me, like I was being watched. I ran back around the car, jumped in and headed for home.
Now I was almost home and my mind was going a mile a minute. The lack of a dent was yet another thing to add in a long list of things that didn’t make sense that I was mentally compiling in my mind.
Making a right turn on Mora Road, I let out a pent up breath. I was almost home. My phone bleated with the telltale sound of a text. Instead of waiting until I got home, I pulled off the side of the road and quickly read the text.
It was from Ken.
Ken: CAN U MEET ME?
“Perfect timing Ken,” I said and texted back.
Me: Sure. Where?
I waited and a moment later, my phone bleated again.
Ken: At the Visitor’s Center.
Great I just past the visitors center ten minutes ago.
Me: Yep. Be there in ten.
Jerking the wheel, I swung the car around and headed back in the direction I had just come from.
About fifteen minutes later, I pulled into the Visitor’s Center. It was now twilight and what was left of the sun was waning fast. I glanced at the clock. I was glad I told Mom I wouldn’t be home until later. Ken’s car wasn’t parked at the Visitor’s Center but instead at the Timber Museum. I cut across the road and pulled up beside Ken’s squad car but he wasn’t in it. “That’s weird.” A shiver of unease slipped over me.
I watched the clock counting the minutes. Ten. Now fifteen had passed and there was still no sign of Ken. My stomach grumbled. I looked in my bag for my emergency protein bar and then remembered I ate it for breakfast the other day at school. I slid my hand in my pocket and pulled out my Red Hots. They weren’t much but it was better than nothing, so I popped a handful in my mouth and slid them back in my pocket.
I wasn’t sure what to think. Had Ken wandered off to take a leak in the woods and got lost? Or maybe he was in the Visitor’s Center but even from my vantage point in the car I could see the center was locked up tight for the night, no lights on inside. Lifting my phone up, I checked my texts again.
No new texts.
I waffled between irritation and worry as the clock continued to tick off the minutes. I had been sitting here for nearly a half hour now.
I texted him back.
Me: I’M HERE WHERE ARE YOU???
Ten minutes later, my phone bleated. “Finally,” I sighed, lifting up my phone.
Ken: Meet me in the Timber Museum, the back doors open.
“What the…?” I glanced over at the museum and it looked just as dark as the Visitor’s Center. Another uneasy feeling washed over me but I pushed past it and climbed from the car. Maybe he bought Mom something big and he hid it in the museum, I tried to reason to make myself feel better, but he icky feeling in the pit of my stomach didn’t fade.
I walked the short distance to the Museum, my heart picking up speed the closer I got. It was almost completely dark now and the spotlight on the side of the building came on. I jumped and only after a minute of heavy breathing did I realize the light was motion activated. I took a step around back and the light clicked off again, plunging me into complete darkness. It took a moment for my eyes to readjust and then I saw the door. Grateful, I ran over to it and turned the knob half hoping it was locked but it was unlocked and turned easily in my hand just like Ken said.
Taking a breath, I pulled it open and stepped inside. It smelled like wood, and had a musty odor too, like it had been closed up for a while. Boxes were stacked to my right, making large dark shadows across the floor. I hung back by the door wanting to keep it in sight.
“Ken,” I called. “I’m here.”
Nothing.
The only sound I heard was my own breathing and my heart pounding in my ears. Footsteps sounded over my head. I walked forward but only a step or two and then stopped. Nothing about this felt right.
“Ken,” I called again and waited.
The heavy footsteps made their way across the room above and stopped directly over my head. I stood there waiting, suddenly afraid to call out. A large thump vibrated the entire ceiling, followed by a dragging sound.
“Eeep!” I jumped, holding my chest. My heart was working double time and I didn’t think it was planning on slowing anytime soon, either. I ducked around the boxes, moving as silently as I could.
The heavy footsteps started again just as I did. It was almost like they were following me across the room. And then I saw the staircase.
A door creaked open.
Thump. Thump. Thump. The heavy footfalls landed on the stair tread making their way down to the room I was in.
A dark form rounded the railing and stopped. A flashlight flicked on blinding me. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the bright light. “Ken,” I croaked.
“Not quite,” said a familiar voice and the light shifted and he placed it under his face. “Surprise!”
Jason’s face was cast in the eerie white glow of the light like people do when they are about to tell a horror story around a campfire.
I took a deliberate step back.
“What’s the matter, Amber,” he asked his voice peppy, upbeat. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“Jason, where’s Ken?”
“I’m afraid he got called away on urgent business.” He swung the light around, blinding me again and laughed—it sounded maniacal. The light flashed to his face and he wiped something dark from his mouth. It looked like blood.
“What are you doing here?” Fear seized me and kept me from running away.
“I came to meet you,” he said and his body twitched. “Didn’t you get my text?”
“You didn’t text me…” I started to say and then I realized, it wasn’t Ken at all, it was Jason.
“No, I didn’t or… did I?” he laughed, bending slightly from the force.
“What did you do to Ken?” I demanded, trying not to show my fear. I slipped my hand in my pocket, looking for my pepper spray. My fingers wrapped around my Red Hots but no spray—I left it in the car along with my phone. I inhaled slowly, trying to reign in my fear. It wasn’t working though.
“I tried to warn you,” he said and took a step forward. “But now it’s too late, your damaged goods.”
I swallowed hard. “What did you try to warn me about?”
“Them,” he spat, rage barely contained exuded from him.
I shuddered. “Who are you talking about?”
He twitched again and swung the light in my face. “Amber, don’t play dumb, it’s not becoming of you,” he said and then added, “at least not to me.”
“Sorry, I don’t know…”
“Puhleeze,” he cut me off. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“That I’m right and you’re wrong!” he yelled. “Tell me you’re sorry.”
“Sorry,” I said just to pacify him.
He lifted his hand to his ear. “I can’t hear you, Amber.”
“I’m sorry.”
“See,” he said. “Now that wasn’t so hard was it?”
“No,” I lied. “It wasn’t.” The words left a vile taste in my mouth.
“How do you like the museum? It’s nice right?” he asked completely changing the subject.
“Yeah, it’s great.”
“The carpentry class from Forks High School built it,” he said, flashing the light around the room. “They did a nice job don’t you think?”
“Wow, really?” I feigned interest.
&
nbsp; “Yeah, talk about cheap labor,” he laughed.
Slowly, I took another step backward.
“Amber, Amber, Amber…” He shook his head. “What am I to do with you, now?”
I didn’t know what to say.
“They got my buddy Kirk,” he said, sobering.
“What do you mean?”
“Come on,” he snapped. “You were there.”
“When?”
“At the party, when we were trying to save you from them,” he snarled.
“Save me?”
“Yes, Amber,” he sighed. “Remember when Kirk got you,” he scathed the word. “He was trying to save you from them, for me. He didn’t want to, but I made him and now because of you, he is gone.”
I couldn’t stop the words from flowing from my mouth. “What did I do? He attacked me!” My anger was overriding my sense of self-preservation.
“Oh Puhleeze,” he scoffed. “He was doing it for your own good.”
“How is attacking me for my own good?” My ire rose. “He could have really hurt me!”
“Those Vampires are the ones that are going to hurt you. God,” he exhaled. “How stupid are you?”
“Me stupid?” I yelled, all my anger bubbling to the surface. “You’re the one blabbing about fake creature’s non-stop. You’re the one that’s stupid!”
“You still haven’t figured it out?” His entire demeanor changed.
“Figured what out?” I spat, sill not realizing how tenuous his hold on reality was.
He lifted his hand and scrubbed it over his face. A dark streak appeared on the side. When he moved the light and I could see it was red.
Was that blood? Oh God! Reality came crashing down on me. I was arguing with a lunatic.
“I will just have to save you from yourself,” he said. “Just like me and Kirk saved Sandy.”
“Sandy?” I asked drawing a blank and then it dawned on me who he was talking about. Ice ran through my veins, freezing me. “Sandy, from Thriftway?” I breathed. “Clarke’s sister?” She was also the supposed girlfriend of Viktor’s or Vincent’s but I didn’t add that part.
“Someday you will thank me for this, just like her.” He pulled out a knife. The blade glinted in the light.
He was out of his ever-loving mind.
I backed up right into the stack of boxes. One tumbled to the ground in front of me, blocking Jason’s advance. My self-preservation finally kicked back in and I ran to the door and yanked it open, fleeing out into the darkness.