Hollow Pike (18 page)

Sarah shrugged. ‘Which stories?’

Lis squirmed in her chair. ‘You know . . . about the copse and . . . the witches . . .’

Sarah laughed heartily, throwing her blonde hair back, but seeing the concern on Lis’s face she quickly pulled herself together. ‘Oh, sorry, honey, I thought you were
kidding.’

‘No.’

‘It’s all ancient history, babe!’

That wasn’t good enough. ‘But you’ve heard the stories?’

Sarah’s forehead creased. She knelt next to Lis, taking Lis’s hands in her own. ‘Lis, look at me. There’s no such thing as witches.’

Lis nodded, but another tear rolled down her pale cheek.

Her eyes snapped open. Her sleep had been warm and fulfilling, yet she had suddenly woken up. Why? Sitting upright, Lis pushed her hair back from her face and peered into the
moonlight that was shining through the translucent curtains.

She could hear talking in the distance. Sarah and Max? A quick glance at her mobile confirmed the time as 1.15 a.m. Maybe little Logan was having a bad night. She strained to catch the
conversation.

And then she realised it wasn’t Sarah’s voice. Or Max’s for that matter. The speaker was talking in a hoarse whisper and Lis still couldn’t hear what was being said.

Suddenly, something tapped against the terrace door: three short, sharp knocks on the glass. Recoiling, Lis pulled the duvet up around her face and flattened her back against the bedhead. Once
more there were strange shadows on the terrace, and this time there was no way that she was imagining it or that it was just a bird. She slowly edged down the bed towards the door, wary of any
quick movements that would alert whoever was out there to her presence.

‘Lis . . .’ The word came through clearly this time, freezing Lis to the spot. She dare not even blink.

‘
Lis!
’ The tone was more serious now. Threatening.

The door handle rattled as an unseen hand tested it on the other side. Shadows flickered, followed by frantic scrabbling against the glass.

‘
Let us in!
’ hissed a second voice, angrier than the first. Lis recognised that voice: Kitty.

They’d come.

Lis’s hand hovered at the door handle, trembling and uncertain. Who was she about to let into her room – friends or killers?

Who’s There?

‘For crying out loud, Lis. It’s only us!’ a Geordie accent lamented. ‘It’s freezing, will you please open the bloody doors?’

There was something about Jack’s voice that prevented it from carrying even a whiff of menace. And, besides, she desperately wanted to ask her friends some questions. She needed to know
the truth. Lis twisted the key in the lock.

Three cold, unimpressed friends stood huddled on the patio. ‘Are you going to let us in, or not?’ Kitty said sulkily.

‘Come in,’ Lis said. ‘But my sister and Max are just upstairs . . .’

‘Dear God, what do you think we’re going to do?’ Kitty snapped, pushing past her.

‘Keep your voice down!’ Lis whispered.

Jack and Delilah flopped onto her bed, making themselves at home, while Kitty leaned back insouciantly on the chaise longue, as though she were Cleopatra or something. Lis perched on the desk
chair, an outsider in her own bedroom.

‘Well?’ Lis demanded, struggling to control her shaking voice. It was like someone had left the cage door open and the lions had escaped. She’d have to tread very
carefully.

‘Well what?’ Jack asked.

Lis’s eye’s widened. ‘You know what! Did you do it? Did you
kill her
?’ OK, not
that
carefully, then.

Her three friends looked at one another and rolled their eyes.

‘Of course we didn’t,’ Kitty said, as if she were stating the obvious. ‘Did you?’

‘
What?
’ hissed Lis.

Delilah propped herself up on her elbows. ‘Be fair. The dastardly revenge plot was your idea, too.’

‘I wanted to blackmail her, not kill her!’ Lis protested.

‘Where do you think we’ve been all this time?’ Kitty asked. She jabbed a finger in Lis’s direction. ‘Googling you to see if you’d escaped from some Welsh
mental institution!’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Lis.’ Jack tilted his head. ‘You were just as much a part of this as us.’

‘That is so not fair!’ But then she realised that it
was
fair. She
had
been in it every bit as much as them. She’d been there, plotting and planning, playing
along with the prank. She’d wanted Laura to pay. Maybe she wasn’t as lily white as she liked to imagine.

Kitty sighed. ‘Look. After we punked Laura, I went back to Dee’s and Jack headed home. We don’t know where
you
went. Any one of us could have headed back into the copse,
but I sure as hell know it wasn’t me or Dee.’

‘And it wasn’t me, ask my mum,’ Jack added.

‘Well, it wasn’t me. You can ask Sarah!’ Lis said vehemently.

Delilah stifled a laugh. ‘So none of us are going to confess to murder? There’s a shocker!’

Jack moved to the edge of the bed. ‘What did you tell the police? Did you tell them about our plan to get Laura off our backs? Did you tell them what we did?’

Lis pouted. ‘No. I’m not completely stupid.’

All three of them exhaled deeply, clearly they’d been every bit as tense as Lis.

‘So if we didn’t kill her, who the hell did? Pretty dark, right?’ Kitty’s white teeth gleamed in the gloom of the bedroom.

Lis shrugged, feeling a massive sense of relief; these people weren’t killers, they were her friends. Her only friends for that matter.

‘Have you shown anyone the video?’ Delilah asked.

It took her a second to process what video Delilah was actually talking about. ‘Oh, no. I haven’t even watched it myself. When I got home from the copse, Sarah asked me to bath
Logan. I guess I forgot all about it.’ Lis swivelled the chair around and rummaged under the pile of homework on her desk to retrieve her pink and silver camera.

‘We should delete it right now,’ Jack urged. ‘If anyone ever sees that, we’re as dead as she is.’

‘OK,’ Lis replied.

‘Wait! We should at least watch it first,’ Kitty said. ‘Come on, this is the last home movie she’ll ever star in – someone ought to see it.’

‘Kitty, this isn’t a game,’ Lis snapped.

‘CTFO. We watch it once and delete it,’ Kitty said.

Lis opened her laptop. The white-blue glow of the monitor filled her dark bedroom and the group gathered around the desk. Lis retrieved a USB cable and plugged the camera in. It pinged back to
life as the PC began to charge it.

‘OK, give me a sec.’ She navigated the desktop, opening the right files. ‘Here it is.’

The film started, grainy and shaky. Delilah was no budding Spielberg, that was for sure.

When I was little, my dad used to tell me stories about children who went into the copse and never came out. They just vanished
, Laura was saying, although it was difficult to hear her
over the rustling leaves and Delilah’s breathing. In the clip, Lis and Laura were two blurs moving through an even blurrier setting.

You don’t believe that, do you?
Lis remembered saying that. Why had she agreed to the trick? Laura wouldn’t even have been out there in the copse if it hadn’t been for
her.

No . . . Maybe . . . I don’t know. Everyone knows the stories. You just keep out of the woods after dark.

Big, Bad Laura Rigg, scared of the—

What followed next was a mess. As Delilah moved, the image shook so much that there was no recognisable picture. It was like
The Blair Witch Project
on acid. Screams and yells could be
heard over footsteps and muffled struggling. She saw herself fall over when Jack pretended to stab her. As Laura sprinted off into the black abyss of the copse, the camera steadied in time to see
Laura fade from sight. And fade from life.

‘Oh, God,’ muttered Delilah, even paler than normal. She seemed genuinely upset.

‘We shouldn’t have done it,’ Lis said quietly, as a tear ran down her cheek.

‘How could we have known?’ Kitty snapped, too loudly. ‘It was just a joke!’

‘Wait,’ Jack leaned over her shoulder. ‘Can you go back a bit – to where Laura runs off?’

Lis turned to the computer and moved the cursor to the time bar, sliding it back an inch. ‘Here?’

‘Yeah. Play it.’

She pressed
Play
and again watched Laura tumble awkwardly into the shadows.

‘Pause!’ Jack ordered.

‘What?’ Kitty was irritated, which Lis took to be a sign that she was feeling guilty.

‘Look . . .’ Jack rested his finger on the screen. He was pointing at a tree just to the right of where Laura had fled.

‘What am I looking at?’ Delilah asked for everyone.

‘Can we swap seats?’ Jack edged Lis off the computer chair and took control. ‘Keep your eyes on that tree.’

He backed up the video about three seconds and pressed
Play.
Although it was poor definition, something on the bark of the tree moved, a pale spider creeping out of sight. If you
squinted, it could be a hand. A human hand.

Lis leaned further in as Jack played the clip again. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was a leaf catching the last of the light. She glanced at the others. There was a look of horror on
Delilah’s face and a look of puzzlement on Kitty’s. The more they watched the video, the more the spider really did look like a pale hand resting on the tree. And that meant only one
thing . . .

There had been someone else in the woods that night.

In Memoriam

The water was black, impenetrable, rushing over her body and threatening to sweep her away. The stream flowed faster than ever. It was so cold it hurt.

Lis continued her search. She was no longer crawling, but pushing through the water, scanning and searching. ‘Laura!’ she screamed, her voice reverberating through the copse.
‘Laura!’

There was nothing in the brook. Her hands found only stones and weeds. Damp green tendrils wrapped themselves around her fingers as her search grew more frantic. ‘Laura!’

She stopped. She wasn’t alone. Looking beyond the stream, a figure flitted between the trees, engulfed in shadows.
There was someone else in the forest.

Pond weed entangled her wrist and Lis pulled her arm out of the stream. It wasn’t weed. Thick, matted chestnut hair was knotted in her fingers and Laura’s face floated to the surface
of the water, swollen and blue. Dead eyes stared up at her and Lis could only scream.

‘
Lis
. . .’ said the corpse, without moving its lips. ‘
Lis!
’

Lis jerked forward, almost head-butting Delilah in the face as the redhead gently shook her awake.

‘Lis, you need to wake up.’

Lis pushed the duvet back, rubbing her eyes. ‘Yeah. What time is it?’

‘Keep your voice down,’ Jack reminded her from inside his nest of bedding on the floor. ‘It’s just gone six.’

Kitty was already up and hovering at the door. ‘We need to get going if we’re going to be ready for school.’

Lis shook the last of the nightmare from her mind. ‘We can’t go to school today.’

‘We
have
to!’ Delilah said. ‘It’s the first day back and it’s Laura’s memorial thing. We have to act normal.’

Lis wasn’t convinced. ‘But what about the video? There’s a killer out there!’

‘Isn’t that better than one of
us
being the killer?’ Kitty pointed out.

‘Kitty, I really think we should take the video to the police.’ Lis clambered out of bed and listened at the door. It seemed that Sarah and Max were still sleeping. She didn’t
know how well Sarah would react to a secret sleepover.

‘Are you high? If we take that video to the police, my dad will actually kill us dead. There is
no way
we can let anyone know that we were in the copse.’

They’d already been through all of the arguments at 2 a.m., but Lis still didn’t know what to think. They’d been standing just metres away from someone in the woods.
They’d watched the clip over and over and over, and every time it looked more like a hand – the hand of someone lurking just out of sight.

‘The thing is . . .’ Delilah whispered. ‘If we saw them . . . then
they saw us
!’

The room fell silent. Delilah was right. Jack was shocked. Kitty was speechless.

Lis spoke first. ‘Do you guys believe in the witch stories?’

Kitty seemed relieved at the change in topic. ‘Honey, we
are
the witch stories.’

‘I mean it. Laura was properly scared of the copse. Even Sarah has heard the legends. You don’t think that witches . . .’

‘. . . that witches killed Laura?’ Jack smiled for the first time that morning. ‘I wish. Hollow Pike is begging for a bit of supernatural fun. We could be the UK’s answer
to Forks!’

Lis took a deep breath and dropped onto the bed. Now was the time to open up, she was certain of it. ‘I’m serious. Ever since I decided to come to Hollow Pike, I’ve been having
these messed up, extra twisted dreams. Dreams where someone is trying to kill me. Dreams about Laura. Dreams about Pike Copse. Mrs Gillespie said my dreams were, like, warnings. What if there
is
something evil in Hollow Pike?’