The Color of Fear (32 page)

Authors: Billy Phillips,Jenny Nissenson

“I went to visit mom first.”

There was a long silence.

Caitlin could hear her dad breathing. It sounded like his breath was quavering. She thought perhaps she heard a snuffle.

Caitlin so badly wanted to hug her father right now. He had
never
been in denial about her mom. He had simply been patient with his daughter.

He cleared his throat. “Honey … I waited so long for you, to … to let go. For this to happen, for you to be able to say good-bye to her. Please listen, please listen … I am so, so very proud of you.”

“I know you are, Dad. And thank you.”

“How did you even get there so late at night, and how are you getting back? Should I come get you?”

“We took the train. And you don’t have to come get me. We’ll take the train back. I’m also here with Jack.”

Where the heck was “that boy Jack”?

“I love you, Caitlin. Do you hear me?”

“I know, Dad. Love you too.”

“Okay, honey. I’ll see you both at home after the dance. Nine thirty, right?”

“You said ten, remember?”

“Okay, but not a minute later!”

“Thanks, Papa Bear.”

She disconnected.

“There you are!” a familiar voice said from behind Caitlin. “I looked all over this graveyard for you.”

Natalie was now pointing behind her. “When did
he
get here?”

Caitlin’s face widened into a broad smile.

“Jack?”

She turned to greet him, breathless and bright-eyed. A sliver of pale moonlight fell upon Jack’s face. He was slightly scarred and silver-toned, making for one good-looking zombie knight. His grin was infectious. “Thought I wouldn’t show up?”

Caitlin beamed. “You always show up, Jack.”

“Hey, Romeo and Ghouliet,” Natalie said with a confused look on her face, “Can we search for an all-night diner? A traditional English one. I have this sudden weird craving for blood pudding.” Her face scrunched up even more. “I think I can totally smell the leftover blood pudding in our fridge from here. How freaky.”

She was serious.

“Jack, she’s serious.”

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Those urges will pass at sunrise.”

Jack brushed dirt off his tunic.

“Hey, what time is it?” Jack asked Caitlin.

“Three minutes after eight.”

Jack took out his chain-mail cowl from his tunic and slipped it over his head. He stood in front of Caitlin and formally offered his hand. “May I escort m’lady to the Kingshire Masquerade Ball? There’s still time to make it.”

Caitlin took his hand and curtsied. “Why, of course … Sir Jack the zombie knight! As long as you don’t mind this one tagging along.” She nodded toward Natalie, who took off and was soon halfway down the path.

“Meet you at the front gate,” Natalie’s voice echoed. “I want to snap a few more shots of the front of this place before we head out.”

Caitlin and Jack began to make their way along the road leading out of Mount Cemetery. The stars above twinkled like diamonds. The air was sweet and fresh from the evening’s rainfall.

“How long can you hang out
here
?” Caitlin said.

“Until after we win first prize for best zombie costumes at the masquerade ball.”

“No. Seriously.”

“I’ll head home after the dance.”

“You mean like
home
home, down
there
?” Caitlin pointed to the ground. “And what happens when you’re not at school tomorrow?”

“The principal will be receiving a note from my parents, telling him that we moved to Scotland.”

“Scotland?”

“What’s wrong with Scotland? J. M. Barrie’s buried there.”

“The author of
Peter Pan
? Very cool. Hey, do you know him?”

“J. M. Barrie?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, silly. Do you know Peter Pan?”

“Know him? I had a run-in with him before all of this dodgy zombie business happened. We’re combative rivals.”

Jack casually rested his hands in his pockets as he strode along. He had a slight limp in his step, she noticed. “But he’s a good mate. Why, do you fancy
him
now?”

Caitlin stopped in her tracks. “You’re jealous!”

“Of him? Not one bit.” Jack made an unruffled face. “Pan’s too young for you anyhow.”

They continued to stroll. Natalie’s voice rang out. “Forget blood pudding. Let’s do beef kabobs and hummus!”

Caitlin made eyes at Jack. “So, what do I tell my dad when I come home looking like a short-haired zombie?”

“Remind him that it’s Halloween.”

Caitlin smiled mischievously. “Do you really think we can win best costume?”

He held her hand as a thin cloud passed in front of the crescent moon. A soft, piney wind blew. “Look at us. How could we lose? But that’s not the real prize I fancy.”

Caitlin mocked a British accent. “Which prize
do
you fancy, Sir Jack Spriggins?”

“Best dancers at the ball, m’lady!”

Natalie Fletcher took off again just as they caught up to her. She ran to the other side of the road, straight across from the Mount Cemetery entrance.

She aimed her camera at her sister.

Jack took out a gift-wrapped package and presented it to Caitlin. She smiled appreciatively. And then, with playful eyes, she unwrapped the box to find a dainty bottle of perfume called Elisabethan Rose.

“Happy Birthday, Caitlin Rose Fletcher,” Jack said.

She swooned.

Natalie’s camera flashed.

Caitlin smiled. This was the perfect scene for the last photo taken at Guildford’s Mount Cemetery. Caitlin and Jack sharing a hug by a wrought-iron gate beneath an autumn moon as a lone crow cawed faintly in the night.

Caitlin and Jack tied
for third place for best zombie costume. At first, Caitlin felt robbed. But she quickly concluded it was a fair-minded decision. After all, technically speaking, she and Jack weren’t really wearing makeup or costumes. They were the real deal.

They didn’t get a trophy for the best couple’s dance, either. They were, in fact, expelled from the competition. As adept as Jack was at fighting trolls, leaf surfing, and piloting winged insects, as a dancer sporting a leg splint he was as clumsy as a drunken dog on a trampoline.

He stomped on two people’s toes and bounced one poor couple into the punch bowl, making quite the splashing mess.

There was a silver lining for Caitlin. Caitlin Rose Fletcher had danced at the All Hallows Eve Masquerade Ball—without a mask and without a panic attack.

Who needs a trophy?

When the Kingshire All Hallows Eve Masquerade Ball had ended, she and Jack wandered out to the parking lot.

Jack gave Caitlin a warm hug and a kiss goodnight.

“Promise to see me again? Like on a date?” Caitlin asked.

“Only totally.”

Natalie burst out of the building with her mouth full. “Eew. Gross, guys. Is it time to go home yet?”

It was.

Caitlin and Natalie Fletcher snuck in past their snoring dad just before 10 p.m.

Caitlin snuggled into her warm bed and opened her laptop. She started writing her column for unexplainednews.com.

Before long a slow yawn came, as did the heavy eyelids and, in the middle of typing a sentence, Caitlin fell into a deep sleep.

Something woke her an hour later.

Her laptop was in sleep mode and resting on her chest. She grabbed it and leaned over to put it on her nightstand. The lit screen cast a soft glow in her bedroom.

That’s when Caitlin saw the girl.

Her blood ran cold.

The girl stood motionless by her bedside.

Caitlin had to cup her own mouth with her hand to stop from screaming.

The girl was dressed in a tattered, pale-blue dress with puffed sleeves and a white pinafore. Her stockings were striped. Caitlin sighed in relief.

Alice. From Wonderland.

Zombified and pretty as a peach.

“You forgot about me,” Alice said.

A heavy wave of tiredness suddenly came over Caitlin. She had to fight to keep her eyes open. “What are you doing here?”

“He abducted us.”

Caitlin yawned. “Who?”

“The Lord of the Curtain.”

She yawned again.

“The
who
of the
what
?”

“The Lord of the Curtain. The one who took your mother. The one they call the Enchanter.”

“Can you e-mail me the rest of this story?”

Caitlin flopped her head onto her pillow.

Alice grabbed hold of Caitlin’s foot and shook it.

“Go away … I’m trying to sleep,” Caitlin mumbled.

Alice continued. “After you destroyed the scepter, we were still held captive in his lair. Peter Pan came to rescue us and helped us escape. Now the Lord of the Curtain is upset.”

“Tell him to take a pill and chill. I’m going back to bed.” She pulled a pillow over her head.

Alice wagged a finger. “Caitlin, listen to me. This is not someone anyone would want to upset. Do you know Captain Hook?”

“Not personally.”

“And the Wicked Witch of the West? Plus the Wicked Queen and the evil stepsisters and the Red Queen and Long John Silver and all evil-minded monsters who seek to destroy and frighten and bring darkness to the world?”

“Like my English lit teacher?”

“Caitlin Rose Fletcher, your mother is the one who sent me to call on you.”

That jolted Caitlin out of her slumber. She sat up in her bed. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“The Lord of the Curtain is the one who gave the Wicked Witch of the West and all the immoral, cutthroat villains their power. He is the inciter of their dark ways. A maker of monsters. He’s not the bringer of darkness or the cause of the cold that comes from the dead.” Alice’s face grew grim. “He
is
the darkness. He
is
the cold.”

The temperature in the room dropped.

“We need your help,” Alice said.

Caitlin’s voice softened. “Look, Alice. I just got home. I have a test in algebra on Tuesday, and I plan to start dance classes two nights a week. I’m really trying to change my life. When do you need me to go back?”

“You don’t have to go back.”

“Oh. Okay. Why not?”

“He’s coming here. To your world.”

The room was so cold now that Caitlin’s breath turned to fog. She pulled her comforter closer.

“When?”

Alice took out a pocket watch.
White Rabbit
was engraved on its backside.

Alice checked the current time. 2:37 a.m.

“About an hour ago.”

THE END

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