Dark Moon (Nightmare Hall) (2 page)

But she couldn’t do it. And it wasn’t only Nell’s wrath that she couldn’t face. The thought of the disappointment and anger in the faces of her fellow students when the prom turned into a disaster or the fund-raising event was a failure or no one showed up for the concert, made her physically ill.

So she did it all, and she did it well. And everyone approved.

She had vowed that college would be different. True, she had agreed to study accounting instead of interior design the way she wanted, but that was only because Nell had laid down the law once again. It was accounting or nothing. “You have to earn a living,” were the exact words. “Accounting is a good, solid profession. What is ‘graphic arts,’ anyway? Sounds like something that would appeal to your father. And look what happened to
him
!”

Eve’s father had died two years earlier, unemployed and penniless. Which left Eve with no choices at all. It was accounting or nothing, so accounting it would be.

That was the first blow. The second was, although she had every intention when she left home of changing her image the very second she stepped onto the grounds of Salem University, she hadn’t done it. At first, it was because she couldn’t escape the clammy, uneasy feeling that her mother could somehow see her. By the time that feeling faded, it just seemed easier to brush her hair away from her face every morning and thrust its thickness into the clutches of the familiar barrettes. Easier, too, to wear the carefully matched sweaters and skirts her mother had picked out and then packed for her, easier to make her bed every morning and to color-coordinate her closet and alphabetize her CD’s and use a Daytimer to keep her schedule straight. Easier, that’s all.

Maybe later, when she had settled into her new routine, she would change her image. Maybe later …

But she had waited too long, and now here she was, cochair of the most important event of the year, the Founders’ Day celebration jointly arranged by the university and the village of Twin Falls. The committee that she and Kevin cochaired was made up of five townspeople and five students. If the townspeople were chagrined at having young students on their committee, they handled their chagrin with grace and a spirit of cooperation.

That might well change, though, Eve thought, lifting her head to survey the traffic mess again, if this thing turns into a disaster. The whole town will blame us if something goes wrong.

She had done her best. It was harder, here at college. She hated accounting with a passion. It was boring and tedious and there was so much work. Finding the time for her committee duties was a struggle, and some nights she dragged into the dorm room so exhausted, she skipped flossing. Then she couldn’t sleep, and had to struggle up out of bed and go into the bathroom and clean her teeth the way she’d been taught, just so she could sleep.

So much for changing her image.

What sickened her more than anything was knowing that if the Founders’ Day celebration
did
go off perfectly, without a hitch, its success would condemn her to three more years of the same kind of life she’d always led. She’d be elected to more committees, more offices, she’d be called upon again and again to organize. She would be tagged throughout her entire college career with the label Andie had just applied to her: “The responsible, organized, capable, efficient Eve Forsythe.”

Gag.

There were ten people on the committee. Two of the Twin Falls members, a nice, funny guy named Don and a small, heavy, blonde girl named Beth, were young. Eve had anticipated that one of them would be made chairperson.

She knew there were others on the committee who had actively sought the position, who wanted to sit in the chair at the head of the table, to be the “authority,” the head, the person in power. Founders’ Day was a very big deal, according to campus rumor. If all went well, there would be a certain amount of prestige for those who had pulled it all together. And if it didn’t go off well?

Eve didn’t want to think about that. Maybe failing now
would
let her off the hook for future events. But the disgrace would be even worse here at college than it would have been in high school. Unbearable. And her mother would hear about it, maybe even yank her out of school.

She didn’t want to be yanked out of school. Maybe she hadn’t flowered on campus the way she’d hoped, but she loved it here. She didn’t want to leave Salem, with its green, rolling lawns and its brick and stone buildings, its bell tower, the deep, wide river racing along behind the administration building. Most important, Nell Forsythe was three-hundred-and-eighty-seven miles away.

Spending the next three years chairing boring committees would be better than not being here at all. Better than being dragged back to the cold, sterile, atmosphere of the small frame house on Water Street in Doaks Landing, Pennsylvania.

The Founders’ Day celebration had to be a success. It
had
to.

“Almost there,” Andie announced, catapulting the car through an intersection just as the yellow light turned red. “Now all we need to do is find a place to park, which should be about as easy as straightening my hair.”

She was right. Pennsylvania Avenue in downtown Twin Falls was overflowing with parade spectators and every parking space for blocks was already taken. They had to park on Sixth Street, six blocks away, and dash down the side streets to find Kevin and the other members of the committee.

They found the group waiting in front of the post office, a huge red-brick building in the center of town.

“Everything’s under control,” Kevin assured Eve quickly when he saw how white and strained her face was. She could barely hear him over the noise of the crowd. “I know it looks like chaos, but the bands are lining up, the floats are in place, and the clowns are already tossing candy to keep the kids from rioting.”

“It’s not going to rain, is it?” she asked anxiously, glancing up at the charcoal-colored sky.

“Weatherman says no,” Kevin answered firmly. He was tall and thin, neatly dressed in crisp chinos and a red Salem T-shirt, his light brown hair slightly windblown. Although he sounded confident, his eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses were as anxious as Eve’s.

Eve liked Kevin. He had wanted this position more than she had, actively campaigning to be selected, and could have been annoyed that he had to share it with her. But he’d seemed to welcome her help. And he had been patient with her constant doubts and fears, assuring her that hiring a traveling carnival wouldn’t be too expensive, that it would
not
rain, and that every horse in the campus equestrian club, the group holding last position in the long parade, would behave because they had all been in parades before. Quit worrying, Kevin told Eve.

They had worked hard. And they had worked well together, she thought.

Still … his eyes
did
reflect the same anxious expression she felt in her own.

“D day!” Serena Wolfe, a tall, blonde girl standing beside Kevin cried. She was thin and very pretty, wearing a chiffon, summery dress that fell to her ankles. Her blue eyes were wide with excitement and anticipation. Thin hands clutched Kevin’s elbow, as if without that grip, she might find herself jumping up and down.

Serena’s parents, Eve thought, had been way off base when they named their daughter. The girl was anything but serene. It was almost impossible to gauge her moods from one minute to the next. Sometimes she seemed quiet and relaxed, but more often she was bouncing around like a Ping-Pong ball, overflowing with nervous energy. But she had settled down and worked hard on the committee, and Eve was grateful.

“About time you got here,” a voice said heavily in Eve’s ear.

She groaned silently as she turned to face a short, good-looking boy so neatly dressed and groomed he always reminded Eve of a store-window mannequin. The only flaw on his perfect face was a small cut from shaving. His dark, straight hair was carefully slicked into place. He was the only guy in the group wearing a white shirt and tie.

“Hello, Alfred,” she said coolly. “How’s it going?” Not that she really wanted to know. Alfred had latched on to her at the very first committee meeting. She had known immediately that he wasn’t someone she could ever be interested in, but Alfred wasn’t easily discouraged. He called constantly, using the committee as an excuse, and often waited for her after the two classes they shared, math and parapsychology. Short of hitting him over the head with a brick, there didn’t seem to be any way to get rid of Alfred.

He couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of rejection.

“You’re late,” he accused, fixing his dark eyes on her. “We’ve been waiting for hours. I thought you’d had an accident.”

The thing Eve hated most about Alfred was his eyes—cold and hard, like little black marbles. Impossible to know what he was thinking.

Still, he, too, had worked hard on the Founders’ Day celebration, even helping to set up the carnival, lifting heavy equipment, putting it in place until the early morning. Alfred wasn’t very tall, but he was strong. His strength had proved very valuable.

Kevin glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s time,” he said heartily. “Let’s get this show on the road. Literally.”

So, after one last check to make sure the floats and the bands and the horses and the cars and rolling cannons and clowns were all present and in order, the whistle was blown and the parade celebrating the kickoff of the Founders’ Day celebration began.

It was noisy and colorful, and things went as smoothly as Eve had hoped. The long parade marched from town to campus, the throng of spectators following along. Drums boomed, cymbals clanged, and horns tooted. Clowns armed with candy and cheap plastic whistles danced in and out of the crowd, entertaining them with foolish antics between parade units.

A traveling carnival hired by Eve had been set up in a huge field on the edge of Salem’s campus. By the time the final unit arrived, the earlier units had already disbanded, with band members and float drivers and clowns still in costume milling about amid the game and food booths, and the rides. A huge, bright-yellow Ferris wheel hovered over the scene.

“We did it!” Eve breathed softly as the final horse from the equestrian club crossed the highway. “We actually did it! Everything went great, didn’t it?”

She was standing in front of a large palomino horse ridden by a small, blonde girl named Alice. Eve knew her from parapsychology class. Alice was a friendly girl who loved to talk about her horse, Shadrack. She sat astride the horse as if she had been born in that position.

“Let’s not get too close to these horses, okay?” Eve warned and, as if he’d heard her, the big palomino let out a sound that chilled the blood of those around it. Half-screech, half-neigh, a mixture of pain and fear and anger, it split the air like a siren. Before Alice could figure out what had happened or what to do about it, the horse reared up on its hind legs, still making that horrendous sound. When it landed, it began bucking wildly, snorting furiously.

Eve watched with horrified eyes as Alice struggled to regain control, her knuckles white on the reins.

But it was hopeless. The horse was completely out of control.

Alice lost the battle. Eve and the others stood frozen in shock as the small figure was tossed out of the saddle and into the air as if she weighed no more than a feather. She crashed to the ground at Eve’s feet. Her body hit the earth with a soft but deadly smacking sound. Her head flopped lifelessly. A second after she landed, blood began pouring out from beneath her black velvet riding helmet, staining the bright green grass around her.

People ran toward the horse in an effort to stop its wild bucking and spinning in circles. But they quickly backed away at the sight of the deadly, flying hooves.

The animal, still bucking frantically, ducked its head, snorted in rage, and galloped toward the crowd of spectators in the distance, milling about beneath the big yellow Ferris wheel.

B
UCKING AND SPINNING, ITS
deadly hooves lashing out repeatedly, Alice’s palomino lurched toward the crowds gathered beneath the lemon yellow Ferris wheel and standing in front of the bright red game and refreshment booths. The band members still in uniform, the costumed clowns, and the spectators who had marched from town were all anxious for the refreshment booths to open. They needed to quench their thirst after the long walk. Continuing to talk and laugh among themselves, they failed to hear the shouts of alarm behind them.

While a panicked Kevin and Eve ran alongside the horse, Serena and Andie ran to Alice’s side and knelt on the ground. Serena used the hem of her long dress in an attempt to stop the flow of blood pouring from the head wound. Alfred hung back, insisting, “I don’t know anything about horses!”

Two men from town ran toward the animal. They quickly backed away again when they saw that attempting to grab the reins would be sheer folly, if not suicidal. The rest of the spectators who had trailed onto campus along with the equestrian club continued to retreat, watching in frozen silence.

“Do something!” Eve screamed at Kevin as they ran along beside the frenzied animal, ducking to avoid the wicked hooves. “We have to stop him!”

Kevin tried, lunging in underneath the horse’s head, his hand outstretched to grab the reins. He was careful, darting in and out of the path of the palomino’s frantic bucking.

He never got close enough to grab the leather straps. On his third desperate attempt, the horse swung around abruptly. His left hind hoof came out in a wicked slash and caught Kevin directly in the midsection, lifting him up off his feet and flinging him backward. Kevin let out only a small, startled sound as he went up and out and then down, slamming into the ground with the wind knocked out of him and several ribs painfully shattered. He lay on the grass stunned, his face twisted in agony, his eyes blank with shock.”

“Kevin!”
Eve screamed again, her cheekbones white with terror. But when she tried to run to his aid, the horse lurched between them, bucking and snorting. Then it raced away, toward the crowd.