The Second Horror (5 page)

Mr. Ross, Brandt’s chemistry teacher, rapped on his desk for attention. “People!” he shouted. The room grew quieter. Brandt sat in the back row of the classroom. On his left sat Meg. On his right, Jinny, then Jon. Jinny was wearing a black miniskirt, black tights, and a black sweater to match her black hair. She looks awesome, Brandt thought. “Now that we’ve covered a lot of the basics of chemistry,” Mr. Ross began, “we’re ready to start our lab work. You’ll each need a partner. I’ll give you ten minutes to sort it out.”

The room erupted into loud discussions. Jon said, “We’re lab partners, right, Jinny?” But Jinny gave Brandt a sly glance and replied, “Well, Jon, I don’t know. Brandt and I already talked about being lab partners, I sort of promised him. Didn’t I, Brandt?” She turned to Brandt. Brandt hesitated. He saw Jon scowling at him. This was the first he’d heard any talk about lab partners. But it would be fun to work with Jinny, he thought. And it would be fun to make Jon even more jealous. “Yeah, right,” he told her. “A promise is a promise.” Jinny grinned. “Jinny, you’re sitting next to Jon,” Meg complained. “I’ll be Brandt’s lab partner.” “No way. I promised Brandt,” Jinny insisted. Meg let out an exasperated sigh. “Jinny, what’s your problem? We’re only talking about lab partners here. You’ll be Jon’s partner and I’ll be Brandt’s. It’s easier that way.” “Why don’t you be Jon’s lab partner?” Jinny suggested with a sly grin. “That’s just as easy.” “That settles it,” Brandt announced. “Meg and Jon are lab partners. Jinny’s my partner. I’ll go tell Mr. Ross.” The bell rang just as Brandt stood up to go to Mr. Ross’s desk. Brandt could feel Jon’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. The teacher wrote down the partner assignments, and the students filed noisily out of the classroom. Brandt found Jinny waiting for him in the hall. “I hope you don’t mind my little lie,” she said. “I mean, what I said about promising to be your lab partner. I just didn’t want to work with Jon. He’s so bad at chemistry, and he’d make me do all the work.” “Hey, no problem,” Brandt told her. “Listen, why don’t you come over to my house this Saturday? We can get a head start on our project.” Jinny’s dark eyes lit up. She flashed her dazzling smile at Brandt. “That sounds great. Where do you live?” “On Fear Street. Ninety-nine Fear Street.” Jinny’s smile faded. “Ninety-nine … Fear Street? Are you serious?” Brandt nodded. “Yeah. I’m serious.” “Weird,” she murmured. “It’s just a house,” Brandt replied with a shrug. “Well—it can’t be all bad if you live there,” she said softly, her eyes locked on his. “Excellent!” Brandt exclaimed. “Come over around two.” He watched her as she walked down the hall to her next class. Yes! he thought. Excellent. Now—how to get Mom and Dad out of the house?

“Okay! Lay-ups!” Coach Hurley’s deep voice echoed through the gym. Brandt lined up with the other guys to run down the court, leap into the air, and shoot the ball into the basket with one hand. When his turn came, Brandt dribbled the ball quickly and smoothly, and went for a graceful lay-up. The ball rolled inside the rim and dropped out. I’ll make the next one, he thought. He knew he’d looked good making the shot, at least.

Jon took his turn after Brandt. His lay-up swished perfectly through the hoop. He glanced at Brandt after the shot went through. Yeah, I saw it, Jon, Brandt thought, rolling his eyes. “Great shot, Jon. Let’s see you do it again,” Brandt shouted. “Let’s see you do it once!” Jon taunted. Brandt’s next lay-up was as graceful as the first. His lanky arms and legs moved in perfect symmetry. And this time the ball dropped through the basket with a swish. He didn’t glance at Jon to check his reaction. Instead, he coolly trotted back to the line as if nothing special had happened. Jon’s next shot barely missed. Jon stood behind Brandt in line and whispered. “It’s a tie. One to one. Best out of three?” Brandt nodded. He shook his arms and legs. They began to feel heavy and tired. Come on, he urged himself. Don’t give out on me. Just one more shot. The guy ahead of Brandt passed him the ball. Brandt caught it and dribbled toward the basket. He leapt for the shot, the ball in his right hand. He stretched his right arm high into the air. “Owwww!” He cried out as he heard a loud snap.

A sharp jolt shot through his shoulder. Screeching in pain, Brandt clutched his shoulder. His arm felt dead. It hung lifelessly at his side, pain shooting out from the joint, arching over his entire body. Coach Hurley was at Brandt’s side immediately. “I think you dislocated it,” he said. To Brandt’s amazement, the coach firmly gripped Brandt’s arm with both hands and shoved it back into place. “Whoooooa!” Brandt cried in agony. But the arm instantly felt better. The intense pain dulled to an ache. “I’ve never seen anybody dislocate a shoulder that easily,” Mr. Hurley said, scratching his bald head. “You ever pull the arm out before?” “No,” Brandt answered. “Well, you’d better go to the nurse’s office and get a sling,” the coach told him. “You’ve got to get it X-rayed as soon as possible. I think your season may be over, son.” Out of the corner of his eye, Brandt saw Jon smirk. Brandt turned away, forcing down his angry feelings, and trudged slowly out of the gym to find the nurse.

Half an hour later Brandt started walking home, moving awkwardly with his arm in a sling. “How am I going to explain this to Mom and Dad?” he asked himself. “A fistfight in the student senate?” He crossed Park Drive and was halfway down the next block, when someone stepped out of the shadows and darted toward him. Instinctively, Brandt backed away. “Stay away!” he shouted. “Hey, Brandt, it’s only me.” A girl stepped into a pool of sunlight. Meg.

“I know you didn’t want to be my lab partner,” she joked, “but I didn’t think you were terrified of me!” She laughed her high-pitched, whistling laugh. Brandt relaxed. “I’m sorry, Meg,” he said. “It’s been a long day.” Meg studied him curiously. “Hey—what happened to your arm?” “Basketball practice,” Brandt muttered. “I dislocated my shoulder.” Meg tossed back her auburn hair. “Jon didn’t have anything to do with it- -did he?” she asked suspiciously. “No. Why?” “I wanted to warn you about him,” Meg said, her expression solemn. They started walking. “What do you mean?” Brandt asked. “Jon’s a really intense guy,” Meg warned. She plucked a twig from a tree as she walked. “You’ll be sorry if you get on his bad side. He’s got a terrible temper.” “I can handle that,” Brandt said quietly. “I’m serious, Brandt. He’s real jealous when it comes to Jinny.” “Jinny and I are only lab partners,” Brandt insisted. “I know,” Meg said. “But you don’t know Jon. I mean, sometimes he goes ballistic. He got suspended from school last year for beating up a kid in Waynesbridge. The kid spent two weeks in the hospital.” She stopped at the corner. “Here’s where I turn,” she announced. A strand of auburn hair fell into her eyes. She made no move to brush it away. “Thanks for the warning,” Brandt told her. “But I think I can handle Jon.” Meg didn’t reply. Instead, she completely startled Brandt by rising up on her toes and kissing him. Quickly getting over his surprise, Brandt found himself kissing her back. She’s really awesome, he told himself. She stepped back and smiled at him. “I know you’ve got a study date with Jinny on Saturday,” she said. “But why don’t you come over to my house on Sunday? Not to study. We’ll just—hang out.” “Sounds great,” Brandt said. “See you then.” “See you.” She flashed him another smile, shifted her backpack, and hurried away. A few minutes later, still thinking about Meg, Brandt walked into his front yard. Abbie sat perched on a sagging front step, waiting for him. She was wearing her school uniform: a gray plaid skirt, white blouse, and blue sweater. She smiled and waved when she saw him. Oh, wow! Brandt thought. As soon as he saw Abbie, he remembered—he had made a study date with her for Saturday. But now he had invited Jinny for Saturday afternoon too. “How’s it going, Brandt?” Abbie asked, climbing to her feet. “Hey—what happened to your arm?” Her blue eyes narrowed in concern. “Just sprained it or something,” Brandt replied, thinking about Saturday. “Uh—you know, Saturday—” he started. “Would you like me to bring something? Some popcorn, maybe?” Abbie suggested. She gave him an eager smile. “No, it’s not that,” Brandt said. “I—uh—got hung up Saturday. Some stuff I’ve got to do. Can we make it another day?” Abbie’s happy expression crumpled into disappointment. But she replied brightly, “Sure. Another day. No problem. Really.” She stood up quickly and started across the front lawn. “Catch you later,” she called behind her.

“Right.” Brandt watched her disappear around the hedges. She’ll get over it, he told himself. He had to smile. Girls were throwing themselves at him right and left! Maybe I’m going to like it here after all, he thought. He turned and made his way into the house. “Mom—guess what?” he called. “You won’t believe what a klutz I am! I fell down the stairs at school today!”

The doorbell rang at exactly two o’clock on Saturday afternoon. Brandt was sitting in the den, watching college football on TV. He waited a minute until the first half of the game ended. Then he switched off the TV and went to answer the door. His shoulder had nearly healed and he no longer needed the sling. But the coach refused to let him play basketball anymore. I can live without basketball, Brandt thought. I’ve got plenty of other activities to keep me busy. Mainly, girls! The doorbell rang again. Brandt fixed his smile, then pulled open the door. Jinny gazed at him, fretfully chewing her bottom lip. She wore a maroon and white Shadyside High sweatshirt over black jeans. “This is your house?” she asked, raising her eyes to the peeling paint oa the porch. “Yeah,” Brandt replied. “Pretty shabby, huh? We’re fixing it up.” He stepped aside and let her in. Then he closed the door behind her. “Let me give you the grand tour. This is the dining room—” He showed her the dark dining room, with its low, stained ceiling. In one corner the faded wallpaper was peeling off. He pointed through a doorway and said, “There’s the kitchen.” Jinny peered into the kitchen, which was more cheerful. “Where are your parents?” she asked. “They went to a faculty tea in Waynesbridge,” Brandt told her. “My dad teaches at the community college.” “Cool,” Jinny said. He led Jinny across the hall. “This is the living room.” The couch, a coffee table, and two chain were surrounded by several half-unpacked cartons. Jinny walked over to the wall with Mr. McCloy’s collection of weapons and armor. “What is all this stuff?” she asked, lightly touching one of the darts. “My father is an expert on ancient rituals,” Brandt explained. “These are all things used in tribal warfare.” He pointed to a spear. “This is a really old spear that people used on the island in the Pacific where we lived,” he said. “And these darts”—he touched the end of a brightly painted feathered dart—“are really deadly. They were used with a blowgun. The people on the island would blow them into the necks of their enemies. Their aim was so good, they always hit the jugular.” He paused, then urged, “Feel how sharp it is.” Jinny gingerly touched the point of the dart. “Ouch,” she said, drawing back. “That suit of armor,” Brandt continued, “was also worn by the island warriors.” “Probably to protect themselves from the darts,” Jinny joked. Brandt watched as Jinny examined the armor. It was very heavy, made of iron, but securely fastened to the wall. The craftsman who made it had painted suns, moons, pyramids, and other symbols on the chestplate.

“I guess we’d better get started on our project,” Jinny said, still eyeing the wall of weapons. “Let’s go up to my room,” Brandt suggested. “I’ve got all my books and things up there.” They climbed the stairs to Brandt’s room. Jinny sat at Brandt’s desk. Brandt leaned across the desk to get a notebook. Jinny tugged on the leather pouch he wore around his neck. “What’s this?” she asked. “Some kind of weird change purse?” Brandt tugged the pouch from her fingers. “It’s a good-luck charm,” he told her. “It saved my life once.” “How?” Brandt hesitated. Why had he told her that? He really didn’t feel like explaining it to her. He didn’t like to talk about it. “Never mind,” he said, flashing her a smile. “You’ll think I’m superstitious if I tell you.” “Whatever.” Jinny shrugged. Brandt picked up the chemistry textbook. “Have you read through the list of experiments?” he asked. Jinny nodded. “Which one do you want to do?” “I haven’t read the list yet,” Brandt admitted, scanning the page. “I’m kind of thirsty,” Jinny said. “Do you mind if I go downstairs and get something to drink while you read the list?” “No, go ahead,” Brandt replied. “There’s Coke and some other soda in the fridge.” “Do you want anything?” Jinny asked. “No, thanks.” He heard Jinny’s footsteps as she descended the stairs. She’s really awesome, he thought, his eyes blurring over the words in his chemistry book. Try to keep your mind on your book for five minutes, he scolded himself. She’ll be annoyed if she comes back and you haven’t even read the stupid list of experiments! He was reading down the list when he heard her scream. The book fell out of his hands. “Jinny?” Another shrill scream. He raced out of the room, plunged down the stairs. Into the kitchen. So much blood. So much bright red blood.

Brandt’s sneakers crunched over shards of broken glass as he crossed the room to Jinny. “Make it stop!” she shrieked, her eyes wide with fear. “Make it stop— please!” She raised both arms. Her hands were drenched with blood. The blood poured from her wrists, over her sweatshirt and jeans. Brandt grabbed a dish towel off the counter and struggled to wrap it around one of Jinny’s wrists. “Make it stop! Make it stop!” she cried. “We have to wrap both arms,” he said, his eyes searching frantically for another towel.

“Make it stop! Make it stop!” Her eyes rolled wildly in her head. Somehow she had smeared blood over her face. She’s in shock, Brandt realized. What on earth happened? He jerked some paper towels off the roll and began wrapping them around the other wrist. “Make it stop! Please—make it stop!” Her cries grew even shriller, more terrified. As Brandt wrapped the towels tightly around Jinny’s arms, his parents burst into the kitchen through the back door. With all the excitement, Brandt hadn’t heard their car pull into the driveway. “Oh, my!” Mrs. McCloy cried in alarm, raising her hands to her face. “What—” She dropped her purse on the kitchen table and hurried to help Jinny. “Brandt! What’s happened?” “How did she cut herself?” Brandt’s dad demanded. “Make it stop! Make it stop!’ Jinny shrieked. Mrs. McCloy grabbed more paper towels and wrapped them tightly around Jinny’s left arm. ‘I’ll get bandages.” Mr. McCloy turned to hurry to the medicine chest. “I—I don’t know how it happened,” Brandt stammered. Gazing down, he saw that his shirt and jeans were smeared with blood. “The glass—it flew out of my hand!” Jinny screamed, her eyes finally starting to focus again. “It shattered in midair. I—I—I—” Mrs. McCloy placed a comforting hand on Jinny’s shoulder. “I think we’re stopping the bleeding.” She pulled back the paper towel and examined the wrist. “The cut isn’t really that deep. You may not even need stitches.” “But the glass just flew!” Jinny cried, not seeming to hear Brandt’s mother. “Like somebody pulled it away. And then it shattered. For no reason!” Brandt gasped. He suddenly remembered Ezra. The spear had felt as if it were being pulled from Brandt’s hand. And then it pierced the cat’s body. And now, the glass … “Let’s get you to the emergency room,” Mrs. McCloy was saying, her arm still around Jinny’s shoulders. “The bleeding has almost stopped. But we should have a doctor take a look at those cuts.” “It just shattered,” Jinny repeated, still dazed. “It just shattered in midair.”