The Second Evil (8 page)

But she could hear the footsteps of the young man right outside the lab door. She couldn't call out. She could only hold her breath and pray, her back pressed against the wall, her side still aching with pain, her forehead still throbbing.

Would he run past the door—and keep on running?

Would he give up and leave?

She listened hard.

His footsteps stopped. “Hey!” he called.

He was just outside the lab door.

Corky shut her eyes and silently repeated, “Don't come in, don't come in, don't come in …”

She heard him hesitate.

She heard him kick a locker door.

Would he notice the open lab door? Would he look inside? Would he see her standing there, hiding from him?

If he came in, she'd have no way out, Corky realized.

She'd be trapped. Trapped like one of the mice Mr. Adams kept in the cages on the windowsill.

“Don't come in, don't come in, don't come in …”

And then she heard him begin to run again. She heard his heavy boots heading on down the hall.

Corky moved away from the wall, allowing the breath she had held so long to escape her body in a loud sigh.

He's leaving.

He's heading down the hall.

I fooled him.

Leaning against a lab table, lowering her head, she took a slow, deep breath. Then another.

She raised her head and listened.

Silence.

She waited.

Silence.

She waited to hear him return. But the hall remained silent. “I'm okay,” she said aloud. “I'm okay.” Except that her knees trembled and her head still throbbed.

She took a reluctant step toward the door—and a bell went off in the hallway right outside the door. Like a metallic siren, it clanged out four-thirty.

Corky jumped, startled. She backed into a lab table with a hard jolt. “Ow!”

When the bell finally stopped, the silence seemed deep and heavy.

“I needed that,” she said sarcastically. “Stupid bell.”

Her heart still pounding, she made her way to the lab door, then stepped cautiously out into the silent hallway.

A hand grabbed her shoulder roughly from behind.

The young man spun her around. His almost blank eyes burned into hers.

“Let
go
of me!” Corky cried in a tight, high voice she didn't recognize.

“We have to talk,” he said. “Don't you know who I am?”

Corky shook her head. “No. Who are you?”

His eyes narrowed. He tightened his grip on her shoulder.

“I'm the evil spirit,” he told her.

“H
uh?” Corky's mouth dropped open. She could feel her knees start to buckle.

He was gripping her with both hands now, staring into her eyes, studying her face—studying her
fear.

“I'm the evil spirit,” he repeated, smiling for the first time.

“No,” Corky whispered. “Let me go. Please.”

To her surprise, he let her go. She toppled backward into the wall. She rubbed her arms, uttering a soft cry.

“You really looked scared,” he said, the lower half of his face covered in shadow. His eyes continued to stare at her like two car headlights coming out of the darkness. “I think you really believed me for a moment”

“Why—” Corky waited for her heart to stop thudding. “Why did you say that? Who are you, really?”
She pressed her back against the wall, her eyes darting down the hall as she thought about an escape route.

“You ran away from me as if I
were
the evil spirit,” he said. “You were scared of me. You were terrified, weren't you? And you had good reason to be!”

“Who are you?” Corky repeated impatiently.

“I'm Jon Daly,” he told her. “Jennifer's brother.”

Corky uttered a cry of surprise. “Her brother? I didn't know she had a brother.”

“Now you do, and now you know why I followed you,” Jon said, enjoying her shock.

“No,” Corky told him, her voice trembling. “No, I don't. Why did you follow me? Why did you chase me?”

“Because I don't believe all the garbage I heard,” Jon said bitterly.

“Garbage? What garbage?” Corky cried, genuinely confused.

“All the garbage about how my sister was invaded by an evil spirit. I don't believe in evil spirits.”

“I do,” Corky said softly. “I was there that night in the cemetery. I had to fight with Jennifer, with the evil that was inside her.”

“Sure,
you
want to believe it,” Jon said angrily. He balled his fists at his sides as if preparing to attack her. “You want to believe you killed an evil spirit
because you don't want to admit that you killed Jennifer!”

“Now, wait—” Corky started. She could feel the fear returning, feel her knees go weak, her temples start to pound. “Wait a minute, Jon. I'm not a murderer. Your sister—”

“You killed her,” Jon said, inches from her, leaning into her. “You killed my sister. Then you made up
that ridiculous story. My sister wasn't evil, and she didn't deserve to die.
You
are evil—and I'm going to prove it.”

“No. Your s-sister—” Corky stammered in protest. “The spirit—”

He gripped both of her shoulders. “I told you,” he said angrily, “I don't believe in spirits. But you know what, Corky? I'm going to be
your
evil spirit.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I'm going to watch you. I'm going to follow you—you and your friends—until I find out the
truth.
Until I can
prove
that you killed my sister!”

“What's going on?” a voice called urgently from down the hall. Corky turned to see a large figure jogging toward them.

Jon released her shoulders and spun around to face the intruder.

“Corky, are you okay?” It was Chip.

“Chip!” Corky called gratefully.

As Chip approached, Jon turned away from Corky and started off in the other direction. As Chip caught up to her, Jon disappeared around a corner.

Corky sank back against a locker, trying to catch her breath.

“Who
was
that? Are you okay?” Chip asked, his eyes focusing down the hall, watching to see if Jon returned.

Corky nodded. “Yeah. I'm okay, I guess.”

“But who
was
that?” Chip demanded. “What did he want?”

Corky took a deep breath. She held on to Chip's broad shoulder. He felt so solid, so safe. “He's Jennifer's brother,” she told him. “Jon Daly. He's the one who's been following me.”

Chip slapped his forehead with an open palm. “Jon Daly. Of course. How could I forget him?”

Corky leaned against Chip as she asked him to walk her to her locker. She'd forgotten to take her jacket to the gym earlier. “What do you mean?” Corky asked. “You know him?”

Chip shook his head. “No. But I remember him. He's the guy who went ballistic at Jennifer's funeral Remember—they practically had to hold him down?”

“It's all a blur,” Corky admitted. She tugged at her locker door.

“He's a strange guy,” Chip said, shaking his head, glancing back down the hall. “He's messed up, I think. He was always in trouble. He even got kicked out of school.”

“Huh? He did?” Corky asked, holding Chip's hand tightly.

“Yeah. Four or five years ago when he was a senior. I don't remember the whole story. He got into some kind of trouble—beat up a teacher, I think. Got suspended from Shadyside. Then his parents sent him away, to a military school.”

“Wow.” Corky let out a long breath. Her hand trembled as she worked the combination to open her locker. “He thinks I killed Jennifer.”

“Did he threaten you?” Chip asked, hovering over her as she picked up her jacket, which had fallen to the locker floor.

“Kind of. He said he's going to watch me,” she answered. “He said he's going to watch all of us—until he finds out the truth.”

“Lots of luck,” Chip said dryly.

“He's really messed up about his sister. He doesn't
believe what happened. But—but—I lost a sister too,” Corky said bitterly, slamming her locker door shut. “That's what I
should
have said to him.”

Chip put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We'll have to watch out for him,” he said quietly. “He seems like a bad dude.”

They made their way back downstairs, where Chip picked up Corky's backpack. Then they went out of the building, into a blustery gray afternoon. “He's a bad dude,” Chip repeated.

How
bad? Corky wondered. Bad enough to do her harm?

A
fter dinner that night Corky went upstairs to Scan's room, to play a Nintendo basketball game with him. The phone rang and interrupted them. “Don't answer it,” Sean ordered, his eyes on the screen, his fingers furiously pressing the controller.

“I have to answer it,” Corky said, setting her controller down and hurrying across the room. “We're the only ones home, remember?”

“Well, I'm not going to pause it. I'm going to keep playing,” Sean threatened. “You're going to lose.”

Corky hurried across the hall to her room and picked up the phone on her night table. It was Kimmy.

“Oh, hi,” Corky said unenthusiastically. The Nintendo game had managed to push the frightening events of the afternoon from her mind. Hearing Kinimy's voice brought them all flooding back to her.

“I just wondered how you're feeling,” Kimmy said.

“Okay. I guess,” Corky answered. “I mean, I can't really explain—”

“No need,” Kimmy said quickly.

“I really wanted to come back on the squad,” Corky said, nervously twisting the phone cord around her wrist. “But the screams—”

“Don't give up,” Kimmy told her.

“I don't know. I—”

“Don't give up,” Kimmy repeated. “You can do it, Corky—I know you can. Come to practice tomorrow.”

Corky unwound the cord from her wrist, then twisted it around again. “I don't know. I don't think so.”

“Give it another try,” Kimmy urged. “Come after school tomorrow.”

“I—I can't,” Corky said, letting go of the phone cord and pressing her hand flat against the green and yellow patterned wallpaper. “I just remembered. I have to take a makeup exam tomorrow. In the science lab.”

“Then come on Friday. That's our next practice,” Kimmy insisted. “Don't give up, Corky. Try one more time. We really want you back.”

Corky felt her throat tighten with emotion. Kimmy was going out of her way to be nice to her. “Thanks, Kimmy,” she managed to utter. “Maybe I'll come. I really don't know what to do. I just want things to be normal again. But every time I try, something happens and—” She just had to blurt it out. “It's the evil, Kimmy. The evil spirit. It's back. It didn't disappear that night.”

“What? Corky, listen—” Kimmy sounded very concerned.

“No. Listen to me,” Corky insisted, more shrilly than she had intended. “What do you think caused those awful, frightening screams in my head? The evil spirit did. It was
there,
Kimmy. It was right there in the gym with us!”

“Corky, what are you doing now?” Kimmy asked softly, calmly.

“Nothing. Just playing with Sean … putting off doing my homework. Trying not to think about anything,” Corky told her.

“Want to come over here? We could talk. You could tell me what you've found out about the evil. We could try to make a plan,” Kimmy suggested.

“Well …” Corky couldn't decide.

“You don't want to be alone in this,” Kimmy said. “If the evil is back, all of us are in danger, Corky. We're
all
in this. We're all involved. We have to work together to find it before anyone else gets hurt.”