House at the End of the Street (11 page)

R
obbie let Elissa off in front of her house, too afraid to go any further. “Be safe, Lissa. Don’t do anything stupid,” he said before pulling away. She’d begged him for a ride. As the police pulled up to the high school, they announced the Battle of the Bands had been canceled, and officers began taking down eyewitness accounts of the fight. An ambulance had shown up. The siren blared as they raised Tyler into the cab, rushing him off to the hospital.

She watched Robbie’s car disappear down the road. She waited at the end of her driveway, studying the yellow SUV that was parked in front of Ryan’s house. Zak lit a roll of toilet paper on fire and threw it through a side window. He was screaming something, but Elissa couldn’t make out the words from where she was standing. The other boys
threw a few rocks at the front windows. Two turned over a giant terra-cotta planter in the back, breaking it. When the curtains caught fire, a glow visible from the lawn, they all piled in the giant vehicle and sped off.

She ran toward the house, clutching the keys in her hand. Ryan was nowhere in sight. She bounded up the steps, trying to open the lock as quickly as she could. The smell of burnt fabric hung in the air. Inside, the living room was quiet. The roll of toilet paper was now a ball of fire, burning on the wood floor beside the couch. The bottoms of the curtains were engulfed in flames.

She ripped them down from the metal rod and stamped the fabric, not stopping until the last of the flames had gone out, the room now filled with smoke. She grabbed the charred remains and threw them in the sink. When the water was rushing over the smoldering fabric, her heart finally slowed. She let out a deep breath, relieved that she’d made it there in time.

Ryan might’ve still been coming through the woods, hiding out, not wanting Tyler’s friends to find him. Was it possible he’d seen the whole thing? That he was up the hill, in the state park, waiting for Elissa to leave? She looked out the window, into the blackness, but she could only make out the old swing set. The motion-sensor lights had gone on, shining down on it.

She turned, the wet curtains in her hands. She opened the trash can and was about to throw them inside when
something caught her eye. Underneath a few empty soup cans was an empty box of tampons and an old, dried-out bottle of red nail polish. Beside them was a discarded box for temporary contact lenses. She was reaching down for it when her phone went off in her pocket, causing her to jump.

“Where are you?” Sarah’s voice called from the other end of the line.

Elissa looked out the front window. Her house stood several yards away, quiet and dark. “I’m at home,” she lied.

“You’re not with Ryan?” Sarah asked.

“No.”

“Elissa, they just admitted Tyler. Did you see what Ryan did to his leg?”

The motion sensors timed out and the lights went off, throwing the kitchen into darkness. “He was defending himself, Mom. About six guys jumped him.”

“I want you home,” Sarah’s voice said again. It was as if she could sense that Elissa was lying. It didn’t matter that Elissa had the calls redirected to her cell. Somehow, her mother just knew.

“I
am
home,” she tried again. It was too late to admit the truth. Besides, Sarah would never trust her again if she told her she was in Ryan’s house—that just the other day they’d spent the afternoon together while she was at work. “I’ll see you later.”

She hung up the phone, fishing through the garbage
again, turning over the box of tampons in her hand. Why would Ryan have tampons in his house? Or nail polish? Was it possible he had a girlfriend he hadn’t told Elissa about? Was that what he needed to confess? She reached down again, about to dig deeper, when she noticed a thumping noise coming from somewhere below. It was faint—the thump, thump, thump—constant, as if someone were banging on a wall.

She followed the noise, tracing it to a door at the far end of the kitchen. She opened it, staring down a narrow flight of stairs to the basement. She started down them, squinting into the dark. The noise grew louder. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she turned the light on, finally seeing the dryer in the corner. She opened it and the noise slowly stopped. Ryan’s sneakers were inside, along with a set of damp clothes.

She pressed her face into her hands, feeling like she was going crazy. What was it that was making her feel so uneasy? What she had said to Sarah was true—Ryan had been defending himself. If he hadn’t broken Tyler’s ankle, the fight might have continued. Who could’ve said how long it would’ve gone on, or what else they would’ve done to him?

Still…there was something in his face that had startled her. She’d never seen him like that, so angry, the rage bubbling up from deep inside him. Where was he now? And why was he keeping secrets from her? She rested her back
against the dryer, staring at a spot on the floor. Her eyes came into focus and she noticed the thin sliver of light running diagonally across the rug. There was a slight dip in the fabric, as if there was something underneath it.

She knelt down, pulling the rug back. Her breaths quickened. Her heart pounded in her ears as she felt along the edge of the trapdoor, where a small rope handle was fixed to the wood. Light came up from the tiny gap where the door met the cement ledge. She listened for a few seconds before opening it.

Beneath the door was a cement hallway. A bare lightbulb was fixed to the wall, brightening the space. It couldn’t have been more than twelve feet long and four feet wide. She peered into it, checking to see if anyone was there. It was completely empty.

She glanced back at the basement door, which was still closed. She couldn’t hear anything upstairs. Slowly, she lowered herself into the space, using the metal ladder to step down. When she was inside, she noticed the door at the end of the hall. It was similar to the front door of their house, a small peephole in its center.

She heard something behind her and spun around, checking to make sure no one was there. She shook out her hands, trying to stop her fingers from trembling, as she settled them on the lock. Before she could overthink it, she twisted the knob, pushing the door open.

The room was empty except for some basic furnishings.
It looked like a version of Carrie Anne’s room upstairs. There was a short, pink table in the corner with a baby monitor and a few toys. Puzzle pieces were scattered on the cement floor. Someone had hung a pink sheet up, giving the space some color. Everyone said they’d kept her locked up, that Carrie Anne had been isolated for years. Was this where they had put her after the accident?

Elissa started into the room, studying the stuffed animals that were gathered in the corner. The puzzle looked like it was for a young girl—a unicorn was visible on one of the stray pieces. Elissa stooped down to pick it up, when she noticed the wire bolted to one leg of the twin bed. It was pulled taut. She turned, glancing over her shoulder. All she saw was a blur as Carrie Anne charged toward her and let out a horrible scream.

E
lissa threw up her hands, trying to fend the girl off, but the attacker grabbed on to her shirt, desperately clawing at her. She pinned Elissa to the floor, her tears wetting Elissa’s shirt. She kept grabbing at her, ripping at her clothes, her fists pounding against Elissa’s arms.

“Carrie Anne! Stop!” a familiar voice yelled.

Within seconds Ryan yanked the girl off of her, pulling her back and away. He wrapped his arm around her neck and, for the first time, Elissa noticed that a handkerchief was tied around her jaw, gagging her. The girl kept pointing at something behind Elissa. She turned, noticing a pink sweatshirt on the bed. penn state was printed across it.

A cold rush came over her. She couldn’t identify what it
was exactly, but everything in her body was screaming for her to run. “Get out,” Ryan yelled. He held the girl tightly to his chest. “Go back upstairs, please. I got this.”

She started toward the door, and the girl thrashed wildly, kicking and punching Ryan as best she could. He pulled a little syringe from his back pocket and stuck it into her arm, and within seconds she went still. Elissa climbed the metal ladder, trying to process what she had seen. That was Carrie Anne? She had stared at her with those bright blue eyes, but there was nothing deranged or crazy in them—only fear.

“Please calm down, Carrie Anne,” Elissa heard Ryan whisper behind her. “You’re going to hurt yourself again.” She climbed the ladder, then ran up the basement stairs. She didn’t stop running until she was back in the kitchen. Her whole body was shaking from the encounter. What was he doing with Carrie Anne? Why was she locked down there, and for how long?

The kitchen was quiet, the sound of a bird far off in the distance. She glanced at her house across the way, wishing for the first time she hadn’t lied to her mother. Wishing that Sarah was there now, the light in the living room on, as she settled down on the couch. Her stomach was twisting, making her feel like she could throw up at any minute. Ryan felt like a stranger to her. She turned on the faucet, listening to the sound of the water rushing down the drain.

She reached for the thin stream but paused, noticing
a small piece of plastic that clung to her forearm. She pinched it off and held it up to the window, studying it in the faint moonlight. The soft, supple dome had a blue circle on it. It was a contact lens—the tinted kind.

She spun around, looking at the drawings hanging on the refrigerator. The crayon drawing of the Jacobsen family featured Carrie Anne out front, her blond hair falling down her back. Whoever had drawn it had given her huge blue eyes, just like the ones Elissa had seen in the picture of her in Ryan’s room.

She felt like she was going to be sick. She went to the trash can, pulling out the empty cartons she’d seen before. The box of contact lenses was there, just below the tampon container. She read the label on its front:
Tinted Contact Lenses—Brilliant Blue.
She turned, about to leave, when something below it caught her eye.

There was a pink leather wallet with a metallic heart on the front. She picked it up, sensing what it was before she opened it. There, inside the plastic flap, was a driver’s license. The picture showed a girl with thin blond hair falling over her shoulders. The birth date said she was nineteen. rebecca oliver, the name read. blond hair, brown eyes. Tucked beside it was a photo booth picture of her and a friend, their cheeks pressed together as they smiled for the camera.

Elissa felt numb.
Oh my God.
This girl—Rebecca—was in the basement. Ryan had been keeping her there for who
knew how long, pretending she was his sister. He had kidnapped her. The dots connected in her head slowly, but her body was already turned to go when she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Before she could reach the door, he came up behind her, yanking the wallet from her grasp.

“Give me that,” he yelled.

Elissa took a step back, trying to stay calm. She smiled a half smile, hoping he would believe she’d misunderstood— that she hadn’t seen what she did. But he stalked closer, his features dark. “You have to promise not to tell anybody about Carrie Anne,” he said. His voice was cold. “Promise me.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Elissa said. She backed toward the door. She was only a few feet away from the front porch. If she could just convince him she would keep his secret…if she could just assure him of that fact, maybe she would get out of this alive.

Elissa drew her cell phone from her pocket, flipping it open. Everything her mother had said to her in the past few days rushed through her head. She’d been able to see it so clearly—that there was something amiss about this boy who lived alone in the house where his parents were murdered.
Why was I so stubborn? I didn’t listen.
The thought brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back, trying not to appear weak.

“I have to go,” she said softly, scrolling down her contact list to her mother’s cell. “My mom called me.”

She reached the door just as she pushed send. But before she could open it, Ryan was upon her. Her grabbed the back of her head and slammed her into the wall right beside the doorframe. She saw a flash of light, then felt a violent throbbing. Her vision blurred. As she reached for her forehead, the phone fell from her hands. A heavy, dizzy feeling set in.