The Curse (Seacliff High Mystery Book 2) (8 page)

The sun had set behind the hillside and was casting eerie shadows on the grove of fruit trees surrounding the barn. As the sky darkened, the creatures that fed at night began to emerge from their dens. There was a slight breeze in the air—not enough to create a serious chill but more than enough to cause the leaves on the nearby trees to rustle.

“It feels spooky out here.” Mac popped open a can of soda. “Especially with the graveyard set up out front and the scarecrows in the back. I feel like I’m on the set of a horror movie.”

“Don’t worry. In spite of the strange events of this past week, I think we’re pretty safe.” Eli came over and started rummaging through the ice chests no one was sitting on. “What did your mom make for us tonight?”

“She said we should have the fried chicken and clam chowder tonight. The chicken is cooked, but we need to heat up the chowder. She also sent along a fresh fruit salad and homemade biscuits. There are brownies and peanut butter cookies for dessert.”

“No s’mores?” Mac asked, disappointed.

“We can definitely make s’mores,” Alyson reassured her friend.

They all got to work preparing the food and setting up a table to put everything on. Once the chowder was heated and the buffet dinner set out, everyone filled their bowls and plates and found a spot by the fire to enjoy their food. Alyson’s mom had come through again and the meal was enjoyed by all. The conversation, which had been lively at one point, all but died as everyone focused on their dinner.

After they’d eaten their fill, they stored the ice chest and boxes of food in the barn with the rest of their gear.

“So where are the portable outhouses you have every year?” Mac looked around as she polished off the last of her chowder.

“They aren’t being delivered until tomorrow,” Caleb said.

“I was afraid of that.” Mac groaned.

“I think I saw a tree with your name on it out behind the barn,” Trevor teased.

“Gee, thanks. You up for a walk?” Mac asked Alyson.

“Sure, why not?” Alyson walked over to the supplies to grab a flashlight and a roll of the toilet paper her mother had thankfully thought to pack. “How about you, Chelsea? You up for a trip to the little cave girls’ room?”

“No, thanks. I’ll just wait until the portable toilets are delivered.”

“Suit yourself.” Mac started picking her way through the darkness with Alyson and Tucker by her side. “I wish Caleb had mentioned the lack of facilities before we committed to this little adventure.”

“Tell me about it.” It was Alyson’s turn to groan as she swatted at a cobweb hanging from a tree. “Maybe we should’ve just let the guys handle the camping thing. I’m usually game for the big adventure, but outdoor toilets are a little more primordial than I like.”

“Yeah, and I’m rethinking that creepy-crawly bug thing I teased Chelsea about this afternoon. There are cobwebs everywhere.” Mac swiped frantically at the ones covering her sweater. “And what’s up with those strange noises? Those definitely don’t sound like normal, everyday noises.”

Alyson stopped to listen. There was a slight breeze, which made tree trunks creak and leaves rustle. “I don’t hear anything unusual. It’s probably just the wind.”

“Maybe,” Mac agreed reluctantly. “But there was this strange knocking sound, and I swear I heard something that sounded like someone crying.”

Alyson listened again. “It does sound like someone’s crying. How strange. It’s probably just an animal.” Alyson shone her flashlight into the depth of the forest around them. “I don’t see anything. Let’s just take care of our business and get back to the campfire. These woods give me the heebie-jeebies. I’ll take the pile of rocks to the right and you can head over that little hill to the left.”

“We only brought one flashlight,” Mac reminded her.

“Oh, yeah. We’ll hang the flashlight from a tree. It should light the whole area.” Alyson looked up into the branches above her head in search of a likely candidate. “What the . . . ? Oh my God,” she shrieked as she took a step backward, stumbling into Mac.

“What is it?” Mac cried as she steadied her friend.

“I think I found your strange thumping noise.” Alyson took a deep breath and shone the light toward the branches overhead. Hanging from a gnarled old apple branch was a very dead animal of some sort, strung up by a noose.

“Oh, gross,” Mac shrieked. “You don’t think this is one of Caleb’s decorations, do you? Because if it is . . . a little too graphic.”

“No, that’s real. I don’t think Caleb would string up a real squirrel.”

“If Caleb didn’t do it, who did?” Mac asked.

“I don’t know, but I for one don’t really feel like hanging around to find out. I say we head back to camp and beg Devon to take us to that truck stop on the highway to use the facilities.”

“That gets my vote.” Mac nodded.

The creeped-out pair hurried back to camp and shared their spooky tale with the others.

“That’s just wrong,” Chelsea spat disgustedly. “Who would hang a dead animal from a tree? What if I had walked right into it? Someone is obviously seriously disturbed. It wasn’t one of you, was it?” she asked, looking at each of the guys suspiciously. “Because if it was, not funny.”

“It wasn’t any of us,” Devon insisted, looking at each of the others for confirmation of his assertion.

“If it wasn’t any of you then who was it?” Chelsea queried. “Maybe one of your weird friends, Caleb?”

“I doubt it. Some of the students in the drama club can have a unique sense of humor, but I doubt any of them would hang a dead squirrel from a tree. Did it look like it had been dead long? Was it decayed or relatively fresh?”

“Morbid much?” Chelsea shuddered. “It was dead; I don’t think we need to dissect the details.”

“I just figured a timeline might give us a clue as to who might have hung it there in the first place,” Caleb defended himself. “A completely decayed skeleton would indicate that it had been there for months. Long before anyone from the school started coming out here.”

“No, it was fresh,” Alyson corrected. “Really fresh.” She groaned at the memory. “It had to have been hung there today.”

“With Spyder and V’s disappearance, the missing decorations, and now the dead squirrel, it’s definitely beginning to look like someone is trying to scare us off,” Trevor deduced. “But why? And who? And, most importantly, what, if anything, did they do with Spyder and V?”

“Maybe we should go to the police,” Alyson suggested.

“And tell them what?” Trevor asked. “They already know about Spyder and V’s disappearance and the missing decorations. All we really have to add is a dead squirrel. I’m pretty sure they’d just say it was a prank. Who knows, maybe it was.”

“Some prank,” Alyson said. “I almost peed my pants. Speaking of which . . . I was hoping you’d give us a ride to the truck stop on the highway.” She glanced at Devon. “I didn’t care for the décor of the facilities here.”

“Sure, no problem. I should have offered to do that in the first place.”

“I’m coming too,” Chelsea joined in.

“We’ll bury the squirrel while you’re gone,” Trevor offered, “and take a look around to see if we can find any clues as to where our uninvited guest might have come from.”

The truck stop was crowded and smoky and the facilities left much to be desired, but Alyson wasn’t in a position to be picky. Anything was better than squatting in a dark forest full of strange noises and dead animals. In a way she was surprised she’d even agreed to go on this trip. Camping wasn’t something Amanda Parker would
ever
do.

“I can’t get the image of that poor squirrel swinging from the tree out of my head.” Mac shuddered as she scrubbed her hands vigorously.

“I know what you mean,” Alyson said as she pulled a paper towel from the faded dispenser. “I really think it was meant to be some type of warning or something.”

“It could have been just some prank one of Caleb’s sick and twisted friends decided to pull on us,” Mac added as she dried her own hands. “They knew we were staying out at the barn tonight. Some of those artsy types can have really twisted ideas of what’s amusing.”

“Yeah, but it seems a little drastic to kill a squirrel just to pull a prank.” Alyson stared at her own pale reflection in the cracked glass of the bathroom mirror.

“Maybe the squirrel was already dead and someone just happened to come across it today and decided to have a little fun at our expense. That one kid with the preppy haircut and leather shoes: now he’s really weird. He’s so cocky and arrogant but totally offbeat at the same time. Besides, he has shifty eyes. I don’t trust him. He seems like the type who’d smile at you with those too-perfect teeth right before he ran a dagger through your heart.”

“You’ve seen too many horror movies, Mac. The guy’s a little odd, but I doubt there’s a serial killer lurking behind his stylish yet totally inappropriate sweater vest. He’s probably just some prep-school wannabe who takes out his frustrations by acting like a total jerk.”

“Maybe, but if he comes back tomorrow I’m keeping my eye on him, and if he tries that more-superior-than-thou act on me again I’m going to have to resort to kicking dirt on his imported shoes.”

“You do that, Mac. In the meantime we’d better go find Devon. I think he said he was going to get some coffee to go. Where’s Chelsea anyway? I haven’t seen her since we got here.”

“She took one look at the facilities and decided she could wait until tomorrow after all. I think she’s with Devon getting coffee.”

Alyson looked around at the worn, dirty restroom. It left a lot to be desired, but it was certainly better than a tree in a dark and spooky orchard. Odds were that in a couple of hours Chelsea would be wishing she hadn’t been so picky.

Devon and Chelsea were waiting by the Expedition with seven large cups of steaming hot coffee. Remembering the dark tree in the orchard, Alyson declined the cup Devon offered her, climbed into the front seat, and buckled her seat belt. “You might not want to drink that whole big cup of coffee,” Alyson warned Chelsea. “It’s a long time until morning, and who knows what time the porta-potties will be delivered.”

Chelsea considered her half-empty cup, looked disgustedly back at the truck stop, unbuckled her seat belt, and got out of the vehicle. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

Mac buckled herself into the backseat as Chelsea trotted off toward the dingy building. “She change her mind about using the facilities?”

“Appears so.” Alyson shifted in her seat so she faced both Devon and Mac. “I have to tell you, I’m not loving this camping stuff so far. I was promised s’mores and camp songs, not dead animals and potential serial killers lurking about.”

“I doubt there’s much lurking going on, but I can take you girls home if you want,” Devon said.

“It’s sweet of you to offer, Devon, but I think I’ll stick it out. I hate to bail on a commitment, and besides, I have Tucker to keep me safe.”

Tucker thumped his tail against the floor of the cargo area in response to hearing his name.

“How about you, Mac? You in or out?”

“I’m in. Besides, melty marshmallows and dark chocolate are waiting for us back at the barn. Where’s Chelsea? She said she’d just be a minute.”

“Here she comes,” Devon answered as he started the vehicle and shifted into drive.

A half hour later the gang was gathered around the campfire, roasting marshmallows and sipping tepid coffee. The topic of conversation had drifted to horror movies and their similarity to all the weird stuff going on at the barn, which Alyson suspected would lead to a sleepless night.

“And you know what was really strange?” Trevor commented as he paused in his telling of the story of burying the dead squirrel. “I swear I heard someone crying. I looked around and didn’t see anyone, but I swear I heard the most mournful weeping coming from the distance.”

“I heard it too.” Mac placed her haphazardly roasted marshmallow, more black than golden brown, on a graham cracker square. “Right before we found the squirrel. It sounded like a girl, or maybe a child.”

“It had to have been the wind. Or maybe a cat,” Devon postulated. “There could be a whole colony of feral cats living on the property. It was probably a cat.”

“I guess.” Trevor broke a piece of chocolate in half and placed it atop his own golden brown marshmallow. “It really sounded like a person, though.”

“They say this whole valley is haunted by the spirits of settlers who came west to find a better life but instead found hardship and death.” Caleb leaned forward, as if to emphasize his point. “Most of the material I used for the haunted hayride is based on local legends. I just embellished it a little for dramatic effect. There’s even a legend about a buried treasure—but I don’t want to give too much away. The library is full of stories of local sightings of apparitions and other supernatural phenomena.”

“Like the lights,” Mac commented. “When we were here the other night we saw those strange lights in the distance.”

“Yeah,” Alyson confirmed. “We never did figure out where they were coming from. And with the crying, which three of us have heard, it seems to me like something supernatural is going on.”

“I forgot about the lights,” Devon said. “Maybe they were coming from one of the other buildings on the property, like we originally thought. If someone else is out here that might explain the strange things that have been happening. Suppose someone has a reason for not wanting us—or anyone, for that matter—hanging around. Maybe the missing decorations, the squirrel, the lights, even the crying, are all the result of someone trying to scare us off.”