Party Summer (14 page)

“Do you know where Simon's room is?” Craig asked as they headed back toward the hotel, walking
quickly, their flashlights pointed at the wet sandy ground.

“I think I can find it,” Cari said. And then she couldn't hold her fear back any longer.
“Where can Jan be? I'm so scared!”
she cried, sounding like a little girl. “This was supposed to be a fun summer. But instead we're in this creepy, empty place, with ghosts and horrible tunnels and skulls with sticky stuff all over them. I just want to get
out
of here.”

Eric put an arm around her shoulders. “We'll find Jan,” he said softly. “Simon will know where she is.” His words were comforting, but his eyes reflected her fear.

“I hope Simon hasn't gone to bed,” Craig said.

Even cool Craig is scared, Cari thought, glancing at his troubled face.

“It's still early,” Cari said, checking her watch. “It isn't even eight-thirty.” She stopped in front of the door at the top of the stairs, the door with no room number. “This is it.”

She raised her hand to knock.

A loud cry made her pull her hand away.

At first she thought that Eric had cried out.

But she quickly realized that the cry had come from inside the room.

All three of them moved closer to the door to listen.

Another cry. A man's voice.

Someone was yelling.

A heated argument was taking place inside. Frightened, Cari pulled Eric and Craig back a few steps.

Simon was yelling at Edward. Edward's voice was gruff in reply.

And then the woman shouted out her disapproval of both of them.

Cari gripped Eric's hand tightly. “Did you hear her too?” she whispered.

“The woman?” Eric asked, his face close to her ear, his hand squeezing hers more tightly.

“You're crazy!” the woman screamed.

“Who are you calling crazy?” Edward replied, his voice filled with menace.

“You're
both
crazy,” the woman insisted. “You should be locked up.”

“I'm warning you—” Edward threatened.

“Leave her alone!” Simon cried, sounding frightened.

“Don't defend her. She doesn't need you to defend her,” Edward snapped. “You're worthless. Worthless.”

“You're not frightening us, Edward,” the woman insisted.

“Hey!” Simon shouted suddenly. “Don't do that!”

Cari grabbed Eric's arm. Was the argument on the other side of the door turning into a real fight?

“I won't stay for the party,” the woman was shouting inside the room.

“You don't have a choice,” Edward shouted back at her, his voice rough, his tone ugly.

“You'd better listen to Edward,” Cari heard Simon say. “I've begged him and begged him. But to no avail. Edward, if you'd only listen to reason—”

“You keep out of this!” Edward bellowed at the top of his lungs. “I've already warned you—”

“Edward, please—” the woman cried. “No! Don't! Put that down!”

“Don't be foolish!” Simon cried, sounding very alarmed.

“Eric, Craig, let's go back to our rooms. I'm really frightened,” Cari whispered, trying to pull them away.

“Ssshhh—just a minute,” Eric insisted, listening intently to the argument on the other side of the door.

“Edward—stop!” the woman screamed.

“No! I beg of you!” Simon cried, clearly frightened. “I beg of you! As a brother, I beg of you! Please—Edward—
don't!”

“Guys—come
on!”
Cari pleaded.

She heard Simon scream.

Then, a second later, she heard the gunshot, deafening even through the heavy wooden door.

Then silence.

C
ari froze. Her breath caught in her throat.

She didn't realize how hard she was squeezing Eric's hand until he pulled his away in pain.

“Let's get out of here,” Eric said, his face white in the dim hall light, his eyes wide with fear. But he made no move to leave. Craig's face had gone slack, his mouth hanging open, his breath coming in loud gasps.

It was still silent on the other side of Simon's door.

Dead silent.

A few seconds later the door to Simon's room burst open, and Edward staggered out. He gripped the hunting rifle in one hand, holding it out in front of him at arm's length. The rifle was smoking.

Edward's one good eye was wide with terror. He was wearing his usual outfit, the safari jacket, a
disheveled sport shirt and wrinkled trousers. His white hair stood out on his head at odd angles.

Cari and the two boys took a step back, then another.

Edward seemed to be totally deranged. Out of control and dangerous.

He stormed out into the hall and slammed against the opposite wall. The four teenagers had stopped to huddle a few doorways down the hall. He stared at them as if not quite believing they were there, bewildered and wild with excitement at the same time.

“An accident!” he cried, his hoarse voice unnaturally high. “My brother Simon has had a
terrible
accident!”

He swung the rifle around.

Cari screamed.

For a second it appeared that he was going to fire at her!

But he continued swinging it in a wild arc, frenzied. “A terrible accident!” he repeated.

Cari heard rapid footsteps coming up the stairs. A few seconds later Martin appeared, wearing a dark robe and leather slippers, his hair tufted wildly about his head. “Edward—what is it?” he demanded. “What's going on?”

Edward, lurching unsteadily from side to side, bumping against the hallway walls, uttered a loud cry of despair. “A terrible accident,” he told Martin. “Simon has had a terrible accident.”

Martin's normally stony face seemed to crumble. His mouth dropped open. His gray eyes momentarily
glazed over, then grew wide with fright. “Accident?”

“Call a doctor!” Cari screamed. “He's shot Simon! Call a doctor!” She started to open the bedroom door.

“Get out of there!”
Martin shrieked.

Cari was so startled by his wild reaction, she stumbled into Eric.

“But Simon is hurt in there!” Eric protested to Martin. “And there's a woman in there too! We heard her!”

“Get away!” Martin cried, moving quickly to block the door.

“A terrible, terrible accident,” Edward muttered, still staggering, seemingly out of control.

“Call a doctor!” Cari repeated. “How can you just stand there?”

“It's too late for a doctor,” Edward snarled. He seemed more angry than contrite.

“What?” Martin cried, his face crimson in the dim hall light.

“It's too late. My brother is dead.”

“How
could
you? How
could
you kill Simon?” Martin shrieked, his voice high and shrill.

“I
told
you it was an accident,” Edward snapped.

Edward and Martin stared at each other, unblinking, challenging the other to back down.

Edward pulled the rifle in closer to his side.

Martin shook his head. He took a deep breath. “Edward, you know it wasn't an accident.”

Edward didn't react.

“Admit it, Edward,” Martin said angrily. “Admit
it. It wasn't an accident. You shot him. Admit it. You shot Simon.”

This can't be happening, Cari thought, staring at Edward, waiting for him to react. This can't be happening. Why isn't anyone going into the room? What about Simon? What about the woman?

“Admit it,” Martin said more loudly, more firmly.

Edward stared back in silence, his eyes wild.

“That's quite enough from you,” he said finally.

He raised the hunting rifle to his shoulder.

He aimed it at Martin.

“No! Oh no!” Cari screamed.

“P
ut down the gun,” Martin said. His voice was calm, but he was trembling all over.

Edward didn't move. The hunting rifle was pointed at Martin's chest, less than three feet away.

“Put down the gun, Edward.”

Cari pressed back against a doorway, huddled against Eric and Craig, too frightened to move. Would Edward shoot? His face was half in shadow now. It looked to her as if he were wearing a mask, one side dark and shadowy and terrifying, the other pale and uncertain and frightened.

“Put down the gun. You know you're not going to shoot me,” Martin said. Even though he was trembling, he stood his ground, staring unblinking at Edward's shadowy face, and spoke in low tones.

Edward didn't reply.

To Cari, Edward's silence was more frightening than his rage. Was he going to listen to Martin? Was
he going to lower the rifle? Or was he going to shoot?

Shoot Martin.

Shoot them all—

Kill them all, as he had Simon.

Edward took a step back, disappearing farther into shadows. He slowly lowered the rifle, but then raised it again.

“Let's go downstairs,” Martin said coolly, not moving from his spot in front of the open door. “Let's go downstairs and discuss this, Edward. Let's talk this out, okay? We've always been able to talk before.”

Will Edward do it? Will he listen? Cari wondered. She leaned back against Eric and clutched at his hand. She realized he was holding his breath too. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a brief second.

“Come on, Edward,” Martin said, his voice unsteady. Perspiration ran down his forehead. “You're keeping our guests up. It's very late.”

“Very late,” Edward repeated, his first words in what seemed to Cari an eternity.

“Let them go back to their rooms. You and I will go downstairs and have a chat.” Martin glanced quickly at Cari and her friends, then returned immediately to Edward.

Again, Edward started to lower the rifle, then changed his mind. “None of your tricks!” he bellowed.

He's going to shoot now, Cari thought, squeezing Eric's clammy hand.

He's going to shoot us all now.

“No tricks,” Martin said, holding out his hands as if to show there was nothing up his sleeves. “Just put down the rifle.”

Silence.

Endless silence.

Then Edward lowered the barrel of the rifle to the floor and leaned on the stock. “It was just an accident. A terrible accident,” he said gruffly, gazing back into the room.

“Let's go downstairs and discuss it,” Martin said softly. Obviously relieved, he stepped forward and took Edward's arm. “You kids go to your rooms. Get away from that door.
Now!
I'll deal with this,” he said and began to lead Edward down the stairs.

Cari sighed loudly and dropped to her knees.

“Ow,” Eric groaned behind her. “My hand. You squeezed it into mush!”

“I'm sorry,” Cari managed to say, her heart still pounding. “I didn't realize—” The hallway started to spin. She closed her eyes, willing away the dizziness.

“We've got to get out of here,” Craig said, leaning against the wall. “He's crazy.”

“What about Simon?” Cari asked. “Maybe he … maybe he's alive.”

“And what happened to the woman?” Eric added. “Did she just disappear—like a ghost?”

“Oh no!” cried Cari, too frightened to think clearly. “Did Edward kill her too?”

“Come on—I don't care what Martin said. Let's check it out,” Eric said, helping Cari to her feet.

She took a deep breath. And then another. It helped a little. At least the walls had stopped dancing in front of her eyes.

Eric led the way into the room, followed by Cari and Craig, who looked pale and shaken and was swallowing hard. “I've never seen a dead body,” he said.

“Neither have I,” Cari said, shuddering.

The room smelled of death.

Gunpowder and sweat. And death.