Beautiful Dead 3: Summer

  Comments about Summer’s concert were arriving thick and fast.

  Can’t wait until 2moro!

  So happy but so sad – can’t believe it’s a whole year!

  Has anybody out there got a spare ticket?

  I paused on this one, disappointed to see that it was from a fan named LilyZee. I scrolled again – surely there would be a similar desperate message from JakB.

  But no – Summer’s ‘number one fan’ had gone to ground. There was no green skull icon, no last-minute effort to buy a ticket and get through the doors of the concert hall by legal means. And I found the absence more sinister than a hundred crazy messages. I was beginning to think I’d been wrong and that JakB could literally vanish off the face of the earth.

  When finally I turned off my computer and lay on the bed, fully clothed, I couldn’t stop running through different scenarios in my head. The one that cropped up most was that JakB had somehow managed to get hold of a ticket. He would be there in the morning, merging with hundreds of other Summer fans, slipping into the theatre, making his way to the front of the auditorium with a weird smile. I would be halfway through my ‘Red Sky’ duet with Hannah and I would look down to the front row. He would be staring up at me, and the look in his eyes would say: I won!

  He would be right. I hadn’t nailed JakB. Summer’s killer would walk away a free man.

  Outside my window the wind blew. Through the open drapes I saw clouds drift across the face of the moon.

  Out at Foxton, Donna was taking care of Summer, who was totally shutting down, accepting an eternity of doubt.

  I lay on my bed waiting for the dawn.

  Light showed in the sky. I showered and changed into black denims and short leather jacket, was out of the house and waiting in the school car park before anyone else showed. If JakB did turn up, I wanted to be sure to be there.

  Parker Simons and Ezra Powell were the first to arrive, pulling up by the side door of the theatre to unload some heavy techie stuff. The janitor came out of his office to unlock the door and let them in. Miss Jones drove into the car park soon after. Then the performers began to trickle in. Jordan arrived in Lucas’s truck, Christian showed up soon after on his black Kawasaki. None of them except Hannah noticed me parked in the far corner.

  ‘Darina, are you coming?’ she yelled from the side door.

  ‘Yeah. You go ahead,’ I called back.

  ‘You’re sure you don’t want me to wait?’

  ‘No. I’ll be there,’ I promised. It was thirty minutes before the concert was due to start and fans were arriving. I was searching for an old red saloon in amongst the smart SUVs and shiny coupés.

  Hannah looked unsure but decided to go on in. Meanwhile I saw a red car cruise by the main gate. My heart missed a beat. A red car, but was it JakB? Why hadn’t he turned into the car park? Getting out of my car, I ran up to the street.

  The red car was stationary, waiting for a light to turn green. I looked more closely – it was too new and shiny. The lights changed and the car pulled away.

  It was when I made up my mind that it was time for me to go inside the building and search there that I saw him.

  I was on foot, crossing the car park when a figure stepped out from behind the row of tall redwoods planted as a wind break to shelter the main school building. My heart played up again, almost stuttering to a total halt.

  ‘It’s all good,’ JakB told me in a calm voice. I was about to say happy voice, but the guy’s emotions were too weird to fit that. He had a smile on his face, but he sounded flat and detached. ‘I talked with Summer. She understands.’

  ‘I knew she would,’ I said carefully, trying not to let him circle me and back me into the trees. This was my last chance – I had to talk to him, make him confess. At the same time I was scared out of my head.

  ‘She told me she didn’t care about the concert. She’s not into big gestures of appreciation.’

  ‘Right,’ I agreed. ‘She’s a private person. What matters is staying close to those few people who mean a lot to her.’

  ‘You can’t break the bond we have together – she told me that.’

  My God – those staring eyes! I was certain they were the eyes behind the aviator shades, taking aim across the mall and firing. Meanwhile, JakB had somehow managed to back me up against the rough bark of one of the redwoods and I was raising both my hands to protect myself. ‘Stronger than death,’ I said through dry lips. ‘Totally unique.’

  ‘Especially now,’ he whispered. His face was so close to mine that his features were blurred. ‘I knew from the day she died that I was the one.’

  ‘She chose you?’

  He nodded. ‘Before she died I was nothing, just like a million other guys who loved her music. But I stuck with her beyond the grave, I didn’t let her go. Now I’m the only one.’

  ‘I get it. She had to die to see you were special …’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Hannah ran across the grounds and grabbed JakB from behind. ‘You back off from Darina, you hear!’

  I let out a long sigh. The guy had been lining up his toes on the edge of the cliff, about to plunge into confession. ‘Hannah, it’s cool …’

  ‘It is so not cool!’ she yelled, shoving JakB off balance. ‘Darina, you’re coming with me and we’re going to call Security!’

  As she was dragging me away, JakB regained his balance and watched us leave.

  ‘The concert begins in ten minutes,’ Hannah gasped. ‘Are you in or out, Darina? Because if you’re too shaken up to stand and sing in front of two thousand people, we need to tell Miss Jones right now.’

  I joined the tribute, swept along on a wave of love and admiration for my friend, Summer Madison. Her songs helped wash away the sorrow.

  ‘Summer’s mom and dad are sitting in the front row,’ Jordan whispered to me as Hannah and I stood in the wings ready to sing our ‘Red Sky’ duet. ‘Zoey and her parents are there too.’

  ‘You’re sure you can do this?’ Hannah checked with me.

  I nodded and stepped out under the bright lights. They seemed to burn into my brain and anaesthetize my fears so that I focused on the music and sang as if my life and Summer’s eternal future depended on it.

  Shoulder to shoulder with Hannah, Jordan, Christian and the others, I stood, chin raised, gathering air into my lungs. Afterwards, we soaked up the applause, bowed and smiled, sang our encore of ‘Time to Go’. When Miss Jones turned to the audience and invited Heather and Jon Madison on the stage to stand among us, our hearts swelled.

  ‘Thank you,’ Jon told us, taking Hannah and Jordan’s hands and holding them tight and raising them above their heads. Heather singled me out and stood beside me until the applause finally faded. ‘Thank you for being strong,’ she told me.

  I was sure, as I stood onstage watching the audience leave the theatre, that there was the sound of wings soaring towards the darkened roof – endless wings beating and disturbing the still air. The stage lights died. I was certain that Summer and the Beautiful Dead were present as we said goodbye.

  By midday everyone had left the building and I had checked every corner where JakB might be hiding – the empty auditorium, the backstage area, the control room with its banks of sound and lighting equipment.

  ‘Who’s there?’ a voice asked and someone shone a flashlight in my eyes as I stepped back out on to the darkened stage.

  I put my hand up to cut out the glare. ‘Is that you, Parker?’

  ‘Darina, how come you’re still here?’ He lowered the beam so that a pool of yellow light shimmered around my feet. ‘I’m checking the place is empty. The janitor needs to lock up.’

  ‘OK, I’m coming.’ It was past midday, we were inching closer to Summer’s departure from the far side and JakB was still on the loose. ‘I’m looking for someone – the guy with the skull T-shirt. I guess you haven’t seen him?’

  ‘The weirdo who beat you up?’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Ezra. He
said he saved your life.’

  ‘That’s Ezra – always bigging himself up. I can take care of myself, thanks.’

  ‘Not the way he told it,’ Parker insisted as we walked backstage and made our exit through the side door. ‘And if you want my advice, Darina—’

  ‘Which I don’t,’ I cut in. Like Ezra, Parker fitted the nerdy image and, like him, lacked a sense of what people needed from him. Plus, everything was always so serious. ‘Lighten up,’ I told him.

  Birdlike, he pulled his chin back into his neck, creating several folds of skin. ‘I’m only trying to warn you,’ he complained.

  ‘Thanks, Parker,’ I told him, crossing paths with the janitor and his jangling bunch of keys.

  I was almost at my car without any idea of my next move. Maybe I’ll drive out to Foxton Ridge, I thought in desperation. Then something made me investigate the storeroom where JakB had already sprung me one big surprise.

  The door was hanging open – I guess that’s what attracted my attention. I walked over and took hold of the handle, thought maybe I would just push the door closed. I need to get the janitor to lock this before he leaves, I thought.

  An obstacle on the inside of the door stopped me from clicking it shut so I slipped my fingers along the inside of the door frame and felt for a light switch. I found it and clicked it on. Light flooded the room, brought me right up against the obstacle – a suspended body in sneakers, jeans and black T-shirt swinging from a noose slung over a horizontal metal bar above my head. JakB’s body swung and rotated gently, head to one side, the spinal column snapped at the neck.

  JakB had hanged himself in the janitor’s storeroom. He left a note, which I found folded and propped against the seat of the grass-cutter.

  Not so much a note – more a picture of a heart with an arrow through and initials at either end: SM and JB. The drawing was intricate, in the style of a tattoo artist, so that the heart looked 3-D, with a velvety sheen. Underneath the drawing he had scrawled a spidery, almost illegible message, as if all his attention had gone into making the drawing and now he was out of time.

  Reunited, it read. Then something that sounded biblical: In their deaths they were not divided.

  My hand was shaking, I was ready to throw up as I backed out of the store.

  The memory of JakB’s dead face, mottled and distorted, will stay with me for ever.

  ‘Darina?’ Ezra’s voice was impinging through the daze. Three figures came running – Ezra, Parker and the janitor, when Phoenix and Hunter materialized and zapped me out of there, right in front of their eyes.

  I felt pain all over my body, as if a heavy weight had pressed and stretched me during long hours of medieval torture. These were the symptoms of being zombie-zapped through space between Ellerton and Foxton Ridge.

  We were in the barn – me and all the Beautiful Dead; Hunter, Dean, Donna, Iceman and Phoenix. Summer was sitting cross-legged in the centre of the circle and there were four hours left before she had to leave for ever.

  ‘So, is the right guy dead?’ Dean asked me. ‘Did JakB shoot our girl and kill himself?’

  ‘I guess so.’ Between Dean’s question and my answer there was a universe of doubt. I gazed at Summer’s face, trying to work out her reaction to the latest event.

  ‘No signed confession?’ Dean checked.

  I shook my head. ‘But it had to be JakB. Who else is still in the picture?’

  Hunter turned to Dean, who stood outside the circle. ‘Are we OK with this?’

  ‘We need more,’ Dean said slowly. ‘That’s why you brought Darina back here.’

  I spread my palms in a gesture of despair. ‘There is no more! What can I do?’

  ‘She’s right.’ When Summer spoke, her voice was slight as a breeze. ‘Darina can’t do any more. Let it be, Hunter.’

  He broke through the circle, swept her up from the ground and carried her to the foot of the loft steps, where he set her down gently against the wall then straightened the hem of her long, dark skirt so that it covered her feet. ‘Is this the answer we’ve been looking for?’ he coaxed. ‘A lonely guy, a twisted fantasist who couldn’t bear to live once he realized what he’d done to the girl he adored?’

  ‘Yes – I don’t know.’ Summer trembled with the effort of speaking. Her eyes had sunk deep into their sockets, though her hair caught in the sunlight and shone like gold.

  ‘You’re certain that you want me to let it be?’ Hunter asked.

  She reached out her hand to me and I went to join her and Hunter. ‘Thank you, Darina.’

  I closed my eyes. Fichtner – not guilty. Thorne and Stone – not guilty. JakB – dead. But guilty or not guilty? Without a suicide note confessing what he’d done, the question was unanswered. I opened my eyes to look straight at Hunter. ‘We need more,’ I agreed.

  And now it was Phoenix’s turn to stride across the barn, raising dust motes in the rays of afternoon sunlight. ‘Whatever it is, does it have to involve Darina?’ he challenged Hunter, taking my hand as if to lend me some of his strength.

  ‘It’s time travel and no way can it include Summer,’ the overlord pointed out. ‘I’ve already discussed it with Darina and she understands.’

  I nodded at Phoenix. ‘It won’t work. Summer isn’t strong enough.’

  ‘So?’ As the tension rose, I felt Phoenix’s hold on my hand tighten. ‘Who gets to time-travel if it’s not Summer?’ he asked Hunter.

  The all-powerful Beautiful Dead overlord drew himself up and looked coolly from Phoenix to me and back again. ‘Darina was there when Summer died,’ he reminded us. ‘She’s the one who gets to go back.’

  It was me – Hunter chose me and me alone to save Summer’s eternal soul. She sighed where she sat, surrounded by sunlight and dancing dust, and a slight tremor passed through her body.

  ‘I’m ready,’ I told the overlord, feeling Phoenix’s grasp loosen as Hunter gave the silent order for him to stand aside.

  ‘This doesn’t include you,’ Hunter told him. ‘It’s just me and Darina.’

  I saw how hard it was for my Beautiful Dead boyfriend – being totally under an overlord’s command, stripped of all power to resist. I read it in Phoenix’s eyes – they opened with a flicker of stubborn resistance, then immediately closed and his expression faded to passive obedience. I re-took his hand but, for once, he refused to look me in the eye.

  ‘It’s part of the deal,’ it was my turn to remind him. ‘We get to be with each other, but we’re not free.’

  ‘If I could choose …’ he whispered.

  ‘You would never let me go alone. I know.’

  Phoenix raised his gaze. He looked at me steadily, pouring his love over me as if it was a molten, metallic shield that would protect me in the task ahead.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whispered.

  ‘Be safe,’ were his last words.

  ‘You know what you have to do?’ Hunter asked.

  He’d led me out of the barn, across the yard, and halfway up the hill towards the water tower. He’d zapped my mind so that I couldn’t look back.

  ‘I have to identify the killer,’ I said. ‘This is what all this has been about.’

  ‘In spite of the risks and the pain. We go back to the mall, to the very spot, the exact moment when it happened. This time you make sure you get a good look at the gunman’s face.’

  I nodded. My mouth was dry, my throat constricted. ‘I’m ready,’ I said again.

  ‘And, Darina …’ Hunter wasn’t looking at me – his gaze was directed up at the ridge, towards the aspen stand and the spring-green leaves fluttering against the blue sky. ‘I respect you for this.’

  Life was full of surprises, but none bigger than any compliment from the stern, stone-cold overlord. For a second I thought I hadn’t heard right.

  ‘You’ve grown – as a person, since you first came out here to Foxton Ridge with your breaking heart and your despair. You’re working through that with courage and loyalty. Now I see strength in your acti
ons.’

  ‘I’d do anything for Summer,’ was my explanation.

  ‘And for Phoenix.’

  ‘He means more than life, believe me.’

  ‘I see he does,’ Hunter murmured, reading my mind, my heart. ‘After Summer, Phoenix will be next.’

  I tried to swallow but couldn’t. Neither could I move one step up the hill, or look anywhere except at Hunter’s strong, impassive features. ‘Were you always this way?’ I whispered. So stern and suspicious, so unbending.

  He ignored my question. ‘You’ll help Summer through these next, final hours, then you’ll help him. This much I promise.’

  ‘And will you be here?’ Or Dean, or another overlord?

  Hunter shrugged. ‘That’s outside my control. Time will tell. One more word, Darina – you left off your investigations into my wife’s affairs, which shows you are wiser than you were when we first began.’

  That’s because I was too scared to go there! The corners of my mouth twitched into an almost-smile. ‘You sound like my teacher in school, raising my grades from C to B.’

  ‘Less headstrong.’ He overrode my attempt to brush the praise aside and carried on digging deep below my surface. ‘More generous and thoughtful. You begin to see things from another point of view.’

  I smiled, and this time it was genuine. ‘I’m sorry if I ever put you in danger out here. I never planned it that way.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ he acknowledged. ‘I first chose you as our contact with the far side because of who you are, and that includes your rebelliousness, your impatience, your passionate nature.’

  ‘Is that me?’ I guess it was. If anyone knew me from the inside out, it had to be the master mind-reader and leader of the Beautiful Dead.

  ‘So,’ Hunter said, releasing me from his powerful gaze and striding on up the hill. ‘It’s time.’

  We stood under the aspens. Sunlight turned the green leaves translucent, the silver trunks stood like sentinels.

  Then Hunter brought down the wings from above, made them beat with a fury I’d never felt before, raising a storm, whipping spring leaves from their branches, making them whirl and twist about our heads.