What Scares You the Most?

  Where is it coming from? April wondered. Is the woman on this island?

  The sound sent shivers down her back. The window was closed tight, but the sad melody floated into the cabin, louder now, as if the woman were standing right outside.

  “Hey, Kristen?” April whispered. “Kristen—are you awake? Do you hear it?”

  Across the cabin, Kristen stirred and rolled over. April could hear her breathing, steady and slow.

  “Kristen?”

  She’s sound asleep, April realized.

  The singing floated through the cabin. It swirled around April. It seemed to blanket her.

  She shoved her hands out, as if trying to push the song away.

  But the woman’s voice wrapped itself around her. It seemed to pull April. She could feel herself being tugged from the bed.

  “No. No,” she protested in a whisper. She tugged the blanket high and covered her ears with both hands.

  But she couldn’t shut it out.

  The woman’s voice is calling to me, April realized. She is trying to pull me to her. To pull me from my bed.

  No. I won’t go. I won’t…

  April felt a tingling on her back. The tingle quickly became an itch. It spread down her arms, her legs.

  What is happening? she gasped.

  Her whole body itched.

  She heaved away the blanket and jumped out of bed.

  “Ohhhhhh, sick.” A groan escaped her throat.

  She stared down in horror at her bed. Crawling with bugs. Fat brown beetles swarmed over her pillow, over her sheet.

  April slapped her arms. Scratched her legs. She had slept in her clothes, but the beetles had burrowed under them, nesting in her skin.

  Slapping and scraping them away, she did a wild dance across the floor. Frantically, she pulled them off the back of her neck. Batted them from her hair. Clawed them from her scalp.

  And all the while, the woman’s song continued, drawing her away, tugging her, inviting her….

  And now April was sliding on her sneakers.

  And making her way past Kristen’s cot.

  And pushing open the cabin door, closing it so quietly behind her.

  No. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to go out.

  But she couldn’t help herself. April stepped into the cold, still night. So still, nothing moving. Not a palm leaf or a blade of grass.

  As still as a nightmare, April thought.

  That’s it. I’m walking through a nightmare.

  The fat, swarming beetles…the woman’s strange singing…all a nightmare.

  But she couldn’t stop herself.

  “No. I won’t do this!” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around the slender trunk of a palm tree. I won’t let go. You can’t pull me away.

  The woman’s voice rang louder in her ears. The song repeated, pulling her…pulling her.

  Her arms slipped away from the tree. She barely saw the cabins pass by as her feet carried her to the beach. The little dock stood empty, and so still. Even the ocean didn’t appear to move.

  No waves. No sound of water rushing over the shore.

  As if everything had frozen in time. As if the whole world had come to a stop.

  Except for the beating of April’s heart. And the scrape of her shoes on sand as she made her way along the silent, empty beach.

  No. I want to go back. I have to go back to the cabin.

  The woman sang so sadly. Her voice was hoarse and soft, as if she were very, very old.

  April crossed the sand and stepped onto the blue rocks. The rocks shimmered even though there was no moon in the sky.

  And as she started to climb, a shudder of terror shook her body.

  The fear inside her—the fear she had been holding in since she left the cabin—broke free.

  April wanted to open her mouth wide and scream and scream. She wanted to turn and run. Run as fast as she could, away from these eerie blue rocks. Away from this terrifying place.

  But she couldn’t scream.

  And she couldn’t run.

  She could only climb the slippery rock hill, as if floating. As if being pulled by a powerful force.

  And then…then…as the rock caves came into view…a strong aroma made her stop. A stench of rotting fish, of mildew and dirt and decay…the stench of death.

  The smell overwhelmed April. It washed over her, so thick and putrid, she thought she could feel it on her skin.

  She started to gag. She tried holding her breath. But the powerful stench was inside her now.

  Gagging, she staggered forward. And suddenly, the force seemed to let go of her. To drop her.

  The singing stopped.

  And April collapsed to the hard surface. Her legs folded.

  The shimmering glow of the rocks faded. And she fell in a faint, a dead faint, sprawled over the rocks.

  As silent and still as the rest of the world.

  8

  April opened her eyes and gazed up at the woman.

  How long had she been unconscious? How long had she been on her back on these cold, damp rocks?

  How did I get here? April wondered, feeling dazed and weak.

  It took a lot of effort to raise her head off the hard stone. She blinked, trying to clear her mind. Trying to remember…

  The woman smiled down at her, a cold, unfriendly smile. April saw herself reflected in the woman’s strange, silvery eyes.

  The hood of the woman’s dark blue cloak had fallen back. And her long blond-brown hair had fallen free.

  She was attractive, April thought, with a broad forehead, full red lips, and those cat-shaped, silvery eyes.

  “Who…are you?” April whispered.

  The woman didn’t reply. Instead, her smile grew wider and she lowered her head over April. Brought her head down closer…closer…and pressed her mouth against April’s.

  Lightning flashed in the sky. The woman’s face flickered in the eerie light.

  What is she doing to me? April wondered, panic freezing her in place. Why is she doing this?

  April felt the woman’s cold lips against her face. So cold, they stung her mouth.

  As the woman pressed harder, April’s body lost all its warmth. Her muscles stiffened from an icy chill that ran through her.

  Choking, she gasped to breathe.

  She tried to turn away, struggled to squirm free.

  She…she’s sucking my breath! April realized.

  Bright white lightning flickered again.

  The woman’s eyes grew wide and her blond eyebrows rose up on her forehead as she raised her head. Then lowered it again. And pressed her mouth to April’s.

  Sucking…sucking her breath away.

  This is sick…sick! April thought. And a spasm of horror shook her body.

  The face loomed above her. The woman didn’t make a sound.

  Her lips remained cold and hard against April’s.

  No—please…April silently begged. Please, leave me just a little breath. Just a little life.

  April tried to shove the woman away. She tried to kick. She tried to roll.

  But she could feel a crushing force holding her in place.

  The woman lowered her face once again. The silvery cat eyes glowed brightly. Lightning flashed.

  And the woman whispered in April’s ear….

  “What scares you the most? Tell me, daughter—what scares you the most?”

  9

  “I have waited a long time for this moment. I knew you would be drawn back to me,” the woman whispered. “Now I will have my revenge.”

  The woman pulled the blue hood over her blond-brown hair. She seemed to disappear into the cloak, to slip into its darkness.

  Beneath the hood, the woman’s silvery eyes glowed as she lowered her face over April one more time.

  “Please,” April begged. “Please don’t take my breath.” Once again she pushed her arms up, trying to shove the woman away.

  She saw the woman’s pale white hand
rise over her. Long, bony fingers, gnarled and bent.

  The fingers pressed against April’s forehead. At first they felt cold. But then April felt a sizzling heat.

  And then the strange pale face faded. And the sky appeared to fall over April, covering her in darkness.

  Flat on her back, she felt herself growing light-headed.

  I’m fading away, she realized. I can’t think…can’t feel.

  A loud shout cleared April’s mind.

  Fighting off waves of dizziness, April turned her head—and saw…Kristen.

  Kristen! Eyes wild. Hair blowing around her face. Dark eyes wide with excitement.

  With a scream of fury, Kristen threw herself onto the cloaked woman. She wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist—and shoved her away from April.

  The woman’s mouth dropped open in a grunt of surprise. Her hood slid off as she fell back.

  The two wrestled furiously, groaning and crying out.

  They rolled to the hard stone ground and continued their battle.

  April pushed herself to a sitting position. Her body felt as heavy as stone. Her head still spun with dizziness.

  The woman chanted some strange-sounding words. Kristen flew backward. Her body slammed against a rock wall. She cried out—kicking her arms and legs. But her body seemed bound to the rocks—held there by some invisible force.

  “No!” April cried. She forced herself up…up…and threw herself onto the woman. Joined the fight. She grabbed the woman’s arms and tried to tug them off Kristen.

  All three of them wrestled on the rocks, screaming, groaning, struggling.

  And then…there were only two of them.

  Kristen and April sprawled beside each other on the ground. The blue-cloaked woman was gone.

  Shaking her head, Kristen pulled herself up, panting hard. “Almost…” she choked. “I almost had her.”

  “Where is she?” April whispered, struggling to find her voice. “Where did she go?”

  Kristen didn’t have time to answer.

  “Congratulations, you two!” The girls heard a man shout. “You won!”

  10

  “The contest is over!” Donald Marks called. “You’re the winners!”

  Both girls jumped to their feet as Donald Marks appeared. Running hard, his bald head gleaming in the blue light off the rocks. The huge man tromped heavily as he ran, his fists pumping the air.

  “Kristen, where did that woman go?” April repeated.

  Kristen stared straight ahead and didn’t answer.

  “I said you won! Aren’t you excited?” Marks ran up to them. He stared at them, sweat pouring down his forehead. “What are you two doing out here?”

  Her heart pounding, April stared hard at him. She struggled to think.

  She suddenly found herself wrapped in a damp fog. The fog swirled around her.

  She could feel it wash over her—wash through her.

  A cold, cleansing fog.

  It disappeared as fast as it had come.

  April and Kristen gazed blankly at each other. Almost as if seeing each other for the first time.

  “I don’t remember,” she finally answered Marks. “I don’t remember why we came out here.”

  Kristen frowned and shook her head. “I don’t remember either,” she said shakily. “It’s the strangest thing.”

  A grin spread over Marks’s round face. “At least you’re okay!” he boomed. “And we have a winner! Your team has won the bravery contest!”

  April and Kristen exchanged glances.

  “You mean…this was all part of the competition?” April asked.

  Marks nodded, still grinning. “We’ve been watching you the whole time. And you two girls showed true bravery by venturing out here in the middle of the night. Congratulations, your team has won a hundred thousand dollars!”

  “Whoa!” April cried. “You’re not kidding? A hundred thousand dollars? I—I don’t believe it!”

  A smile slowly spread over Kristen’s face. She slapped April a high-five, then hugged her.

  April stared hard at Marks. She still felt as if she were gazing through a thick fog. Her whole body was trembling with the effort to stand up.

  Why did she feel so weak?

  What were she and Kristen doing out in the middle of the night in front of the rock caves?

  She couldn’t remember.

  Marks placed an arm on her shoulder. “April? Are you okay? You don’t seem very excited to have won so much money!”

  “I…I am,” she said. “I guess I’m shocked. When you left the island, I thought you weren’t coming back. I really thought that…” Her voice trailed off.

  And then she remembered something else. “Marlin,” she said. “Mr. Marks—Marlin is missing. This afternoon, he—”

  “We found him,” Marks interrupted. He turned and pointed down the rock hill. “On the other side of the island. Marlin is okay. A few broken ribs.”

  Kristen gasped. “But—what was he doing all the way over there?”

  Marks shrugged his broad shoulders. “Rick and Abby are taking care of him. They’ve called for a chopper to take him to the main island.”

  “But—what happened to him?” April demanded.

  “We’d better hurry,” Marks said. “Anthony is waiting at the dock. Let’s get to the boat and find you some food to eat. You must be starving.”

  April nodded. I haven’t eaten in two days, she realized. I guess that’s why I feel so weak.

  Marks glanced at the dark cave opening behind them for a second. Then he turned and motioned for them to follow as he led the way back to the village.

  April and Kristen hurried to their cabin to pack their bags. “I can’t believe we’re getting out of here!” April exclaimed.

  Kristen glanced up from her suitcase. “Hey—what’s that on your head?” she asked.

  April turned to her. “Huh?” She moved to the mirror on the wall. “Where?”

  Kristen stepped up beside her. “On your temple,” she said. She pulled April’s hair back.

  And they both stared at the mark on April’s temple.

  “Did you always have a birthmark there?” Kristen asked, studying it.

  “No,” April answered, gazing into the mirror. “It—it’s blue,” she stammered.

  “It looks just like a moon,” Kristen said. “A blue crescent moon.”

  April pressed her fingers against it. It felt hot to the touch. Burning hot.

  How did I get that? she wondered.

  What does it mean?

  Part Two

  The Year 1680 Ravenswoode, a Tiny English Village

  11

  Deborah Andersen lay on her bed, staring at a black spider as it slowly zigzagged down the wall beside her bedroom window. She touched the cold whitewashed stone wall, trailing her finger along the spider’s path.

  She concentrated all her thoughts on the tiny black creature. A spider in the house was said to be good luck.

  Good luck.

  With a sigh, Deborah pressed her thumb against the spider’s hairy body—and crushed it against the wall. Dark brown blood seeped from its flattened belly.

  Good luck cannot help me now, Deborah thought bitterly. My life is over.

  The villagers had accused her of witchcraft. And now she faced a punishment worse than death.

  She huddled in her room in the small cottage she shared with her mother. Deborah knew these could be her last moments in this cottage, the house where she was born. But she could not find comfort in them. She hated the ugly village and its pinched, mean people, but she was terrified of what lay ahead of her too—terrified of the unknown.

  Alderman Harrison’s words rang in her ears….

  “Deborah Andersen, in our great mercy we have spared you death,” Harrison had pronounced. “But you must leave this village immediately—never to return. You will be taken to Plymouth. There you will board a cargo ship. The ship will carry you across the sea to an island in the new
world—a tropical island where no people live.”

  “But, sir—” Deborah had begun to protest.

  “You are sentenced to live the rest of your life alone,” Harrison declared. “Alone on an island that no one will ever visit. Alone, where you cannot harm any of our good people with your witchcraft.”

  “But I am not a witch!” Deborah had cried. “I have no powers. I am not a witch!”

  But no one—no one in the entire village—believed her.

  The day before, an evil spell had been cast on the Alderman’s son, Aaron Harrison. To everyone’s horror, the boy had been turned into a chicken—a chicken with Aaron’s wavy blond hair growing out of the top of its head.

  An angry mob dragged Deborah from her cottage and accused her of the crime. That night the village burned mysteriously, with flames as cold as ice.

  This is Deborah’s evil work again, the villagers shouted. The witch’s revenge!

  And why did they accuse her? Why did they blame her for all the troubles in the village? What made them so certain that Deborah was a witch?

  Since the day she was born, the village of Ravenswoode had been cursed with unexplained illness, terrible storms, and ruined crops—one strange, unfortunate event after another. The once-rich farming land had, in the twelve years of Deborah’s life, turned to dust.

  But to the villagers, the strongest proof of Deborah’s witchcraft was the mark on her forehead. The blue crescent moon that floated over her right temple.

  Deborah hugged herself tightly, trying to stop the violent tremors of fear that shook her body.

  I don’t want to leave my mother, she thought as hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

  I don’t want to spend my whole life all alone. I am not a witch. I am innocent!

  I am a twelve-year-old girl with bad luck. Very bad luck, to be born in this wretched village.

  And then, as she gazed out the window, she saw them.

  She saw the orange flames of the torches dancing against the night sky. And then she saw the black outlines of the men carrying the torches.

  They are coming for me, she realized.

  They are coming to take me away.