The Third Evil (2 page)

“Then let's try the football chant again,” Miss Green said, staring hard at Corky.

Kimmy leapt forward, clapping her hands, and turned to the five other girls. “Okay. Ready? On three.”

She counted to three, and they began their chant, their voices rising with each repetition, stomping and clapping in the rhythm they had practiced:

“Tigers, let's score! Six points and more!
(stomp stomp)
Tigers, let's score! Six points and more!”
(stomp stomp)

“Louder!” Kimmy urged, cupping one ear with her hand. “I can't hear you!”

“Tigers, let's score Six points and more!”

“Still can't hear you!” Kimmy shouted.

As they repeated the chant even louder, Corky
glanced down the line to Hannah. Shouting enthusiastically, her hands in a high
V,
Hannah ended her chant and then spontaneously leapt into a tuck jump, rising high off the floor and slapping her knees at the peak of the jump.

What a show-off! Corky thought. Hannah knows we don't do a tuck jump here. Miss Green is going to get on her case now.

Corky turned her eyes expectantly to Miss Green. But instead of seeing anger on the coach's face, Corky was surprised to see approval—even a smile.

“I like that, Hannah,” Miss Green declared. “That's a very clever finish.” She turned to Kimmy. “What do you say? Let's try it again, and everybody do a tuck jump at the end.”

“I don't believe it,” Ronnie muttered to Corky, shaking her head.

“I believe it,” Corky replied dryly.

“Hannah the Wonder Cheerleader!” Ronnie said under her breath.

Corky laughed and looked down the row of girls. Heather Diehl was leaning close to Debra, whispering something in her ear. Kimmy flashed Corky a meaningful glance, then stepped forward, changing her expression of disapproval to a smile. She began the chant again.

“Tigers, let's score! Six points and more!”

The girls repeated the chant, getting louder each time. Then they all ended with tuck jumps.

Corky watched Hannah out of the corner of her eye. Her tuck jump was the highest of all. Her dark eyes sparkled and her face radiated enthusiasm as she landed gracefully, clapping her hands. “That was
great!”
she exclaimed. “Can we do it again?”

“What's her problem anyway?” Kimmy asked, twirling her water glass between her hands.

“Her problem is she's terrific,” Corky replied, squeezing against the wall as Debra slid beside her in the red vinyl booth. “And we're jealous.”

“I'm not jealous of her,” Ronnie said quickly. A thoughtful look creased her face. “Well, maybe just her hair.” Ronnie had tight copper-colored curls, a tiny stub of a nose, and a face full of freckles. She was in ninth grade, but looked about twelve. “Hannah has awesome hair.”

“She's stuck up,” Kimmy offered. “She's so stuck up, she probably knows we're talking about her right now.”

The four girls laughed. Practice had ended at fourthirty and they had driven to The Corner, a new coffeeshop a few blocks from school that had quickly become a hangout for Shadyside students.

“Hannah isn't so bad,” Debra remarked, her eyes lowered to the menu. “She's just enthusiastic.”

The other three stared at Debra in surprise.

“Since when are
you
her best friend?” Kimmy asked sarcastically.

Debra raised her icy blue eyes from the menu. “I'm not. I just said she isn't so bad. She isn't mean or anything.” Debra had straight blond hair cut very
short. She was thin, almost too thin, and seldom smiled, an unlikely combination for a cheerleader.

“So we have one vote for Hannah,” Kimmy said, making a one in the air with her index finger. “Anyone else?”

Before Corky or Ronnie could cast a vote, the waitress interrupted to take their orders. Kimmy and Ronnie ordered hamburgers and Cokes. Debra ordered a plate of french fries and a chocolate shake. No matter what she ate, she never put on weight.

When Corky ordered a bowl of split pea soup, the others erupted in disapproval. “Yuck!” Ronnie exclaimed, sticking a finger down her throat. “I may
hurl!”

“I happen to
like
pea soup,” Corky insisted.

“You're weird,” Kimmy told her. “You're definitely weird.”

“Is Hannah going out with anyone?” Corky asked, deliberately changing the subject.

“You ever see the guys hanging around her locker after school everyday?” Ronnie asked. “It's disgusting. Their tongues hanging out of their mouths. They practically drool on her!”

“Tsk-tsk.” Debra clicked her tongue. “Sounds to me like you're jealous, Ronnie.”

Ronnie stuck her tongue out at Debra. “So?”

“I think she's going out with Gary Brandt,” Kimmy offered. “At least, I saw them together at the mall Saturday night.”

“Gary's kinda cool,” Ronnie said, fiddling with her silverware.

“Kinda!” Debra agreed with unusual enthusiasm.

“Hey, can you picture Hannah making out with Gary?” Ronnie asked, grinning. She performed a cheer: “Go, Gary, go! Go, Gary, go! Yaaaay!”

Everyone laughed.

“Know what?” Kimmy added. “Every time he kisses her, she probably does a tuck jump!”

More laughter.

“Hey, are you guys ready for next week?” Corky asked, changing the subject again.

“I'm already packed,” Ronnie said. “I can't wait. This'll be the best spring break ever!”

“A whole week away from home,” Corky said, sighing. “A whole week away from my pesty little brother.”

“Maybe we'll meet some guys,” Ronnie said, grinning. “You know, college dudes.”

“You guys are in for a shock,” Debra said dryly. “There'll be no time to hang out and meet guys. Cheerleader camp is
torture.
You work your buns off exercising in the morning, practicing new cheers all afternoon, going to workshop after workshop. Then at night you kill yourself competing against the other squads.”

“Bobbi and I went to a cheerleader camp one summer in Missouri before we moved here,” Corky recalled. “We worked hard. But we also did some partying.”

“The Madison College campus is supposed to be pretty,” Ronnie said. “My cousin told me the dorm we're staying in is brand new.”

“Maybe we'll all room together!” Ronnie exclaimed. “It's going to be awesome!”

Everyone agreed except for Debra. “It's hard work and a lot of pressure,” she warned. “You have to be enthusiastic and have a smile plastered on your face all day long.”

When Ronnie and Debra got up to go to the rest room, Kimmy slid in beside Corky, a troubled expression on her face. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly.

“Okay, I guess.” Corky shrugged.

“No. I mean
really,”
Kimmy insisted, her dark eyes staring into Corky's, as if searching for something.

“I'm doing a little better,” Corky replied, fiddling with her silverware. “I don't think about things as much. I force myself not to think about Bobbi or Chip or—”

“I
can't
stop thinking about it,” Kimmy said emotionally, clasping her hands tightly together on the Formica tabletop. “I keep thinking, what if the evil spirit is still around? What if it's still
inside
me?” Her voice cracked as she said this. She swallowed hard.

“Kimmy—” Corky started, resting a hand on Kimmy's arm. “I saw the evil spirit pour out of you. I saw it go down my bathtub drain. It's gone. You're okay now. You don't have to worry—”

“But how do we know it's gone for good? Corky, you got that note. The one that said it can't be drowned. And, Corky, sometimes—sometimes I feel so strange,” Kimmy whispered, her eyes watering. She gripped Corky's arm and held it tightly. “Sometimes I—I just don't feel right.”

The door to the coffeeshop opened and some guys from the basketball team walked in. One of them,
John Mirren, a lanky boy with short brown hair and a goofy grin, waved to Kimmy before sliding into a booth with his pals.

“Kimmy, we just have to pray that the evil spirit is gone for good,” Corky said.

“But what if it isn't?” Kimmy demanded again.

Corky shrugged and felt a sudden chill. “It's
got
to be gone,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I can't take any more death. I can't…” Her voice trailed off.

Debra and Ronnie returned, giggling and pushing each other playfully. They stopped when they saw the grim expressions on Corky's and Kimmy's faces.

“Hey—what's wrong?” Debra demanded. “You two still talking about Hannah Miles? Give the poor kid a break.” She slid in across from Corky and Kimmy. Ronnie lowered herself into the booth beside Debra.

Corky forced a smile. “No, we weren't talking about Hannah.”

“Do you know what other schools are going to be at the cheerleader camp?” Ronnie asked Kimmy.

Kimmy shook her head, tossing her crimped black hair. “I think there's going to be a squad from Waynesbridge. And maybe the cheerleaders from Belvedere.”

“The ones that do all that rap stuff?” Ronnie asked.

“Wow, they're excellent!” Corky exclaimed. “Who else?”

“I don't know,” Kimmy replied. “About a hundred cheerleaders total, I think.”

The waitress appeared, carrying their orders on a
metal tray. “Who gets the pea soup?” she asked, staring at each girl.

Making disgusted faces, all three of her companions pointed to Corky. “Give me a break,” Corky muttered. “I had a craving for pea soup. What's the big deal?”

The waitress set the food down and left.

“John Mirren waved at you,” Debra said to Kimmy, squeezing the ketchup dispenser over her french fries. “I saw him as I was leaving the ladies' room.

“So?” Kimmy asked defensively.

“So maybe he likes you,” Debra said. She put down the ketchup and reached for the salt.

Kimmy shrugged.

“He's a funny guy,” Ronnie said, around a mouthful of hamburger. “He's a riot in science lab. Were you there last week when he spilled the hydrochloric acid?”

“That sounds hilarious,” Debra said sarcastically.

“You had to be there,” Ronnie replied. The tomato slid out of her hamburger. She struggled to push it back in.

Suddenly Corky uttered a loud gasp.

The others looked up from their food. “Corky—what's wrong?” Kimmy cried.

Corky's eyes were wide with surprise. “Look—” She pointed down at her soup bowl.

The other three turned their eyes to the bowl. The thick green soup appeared to be bubbling.

“Why is it doing that?” Ronnie asked, leaning forward to get a better look. “Oh!” she cried out, and
pulled her head back as a gob of soup spurted up from the bowl.

“Hey—!” Corky cried in alarm.

The thick soup was tossing in the bowl, rising up against the edges like green ocean waves, bubbling higher and higher.

“Gross!”

“Yuck! It's alive!”

“What's going on?”

Like a green volcano, the soup rose up and spurted high in a thick, bubbling wave. Hot and steamy, more and more of it made a green tidal wave that began to ooze over the table.

“Hey—!”

“Help!”

“Get up, Kimmy! Let's
go!”

The four girls scrambled from the booth as the steaming green liquid rose like a fountain, to plop onto the table and then ooze quickly onto the floor.

“What's that?”

“What's happening?”

“Where are they going?”

Voices rang out through the small restaurant. Confused kids gaped as Corky and her friends lurched down the narrow aisle, pushed open the front door, and fled to the sidewalk.

“The evil—” Corky managed to say, breathing hard, her heart thudding in her chest.

It's back, she thought.

The evil spirit is back.

Their anguished faces revealed that all four girls realized it.

The ancient evil spirit was back. It had been right at their table.

Was it inhabiting one of them? Possessing one of them?

Corky stared from face to face.

Which one? she wondered. Which one?

C
orky glanced out at the crooked rows of gray stones in the Fear Street cemetery. “I still miss her,” she told Kimmy, her voice breaking with emotion. “I still think about Bobbi all the time.”

Kimmy shivered despite the heat of the late afternoon. She shielded her eyes against the lowering sun with one hand, her gaze following Corky's up the sloping hill of the old cemetery.

Debra and Ronnie had driven straight home, eager to get away from the restaurant, eager to get away from the evil that had erupted in front of them.

Kimmy had driven Corky home, to her house on Fear Street, but when they'd gotten there, neither wanted to be alone. They went out for a walk and ended up just a block beyond the house at the cemetery.