I exchanged my pajama bottoms and fuzzy slippers for a black asymmetrical skirt and tal , steal-toe boots with lots of buckles. My spirit guide didn’t dole out a lot of advice, but her tip about using my legs in a fight had proven useful.
I hoped the steal-toe boots would give me an added edge.
Plus, they looked fabulous…and imposing.
When Emma arrived, I stomped down the stairs and out to the car.
“Ooh, scary,” Emma said approvingly. “I wouldn’t want to mess with you.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling. “I was going for the ‘I may be cute, but don’t touch me’ look.”
“Mission accomplished,” Emma said, driving. “So, you ready?”
“I was born ready,” I said.
I picked at my already chipped black nail polish and looked out the window. When the school building emerged from behind a stand of trees, my heart skipped a beat.
What if the J-team real y planned to grab me again today?
Worse, what if they had given up on making me perform necromancy and decided to skip straight to revenge? My palms became sweaty as I imagined alternating nightmare scenarios.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emma asked, putting the car in park.
“No, not real y, but running away isn’t the answer,” I said. “Plus, there’s no one at my house or the cabin today and I don’t real y want to be alone. Just in case.” Just in case someone hunts me down seeking revenge. It could be the J-team or the Salem witches—
take your pick.
“Wel , cal me if you see anything suspicious,” Emma said. “Oh, and Yuki?”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I’d hug you right now, but I don’t want to be impaled by your jewelry,” Emma said.
I laughed and waved goodbye as we parted ways. As I walked to class I nearly stumbled at the overwhelming smel of motor oil.
Don’t worry Dylan, I haven’t forgotten about
you.
*****
By second period I had a skul -splitting smel impression induced headache. My teacher didn’t hesitate to give me a hal pass to visit the school nurse. I’m not sure if it was my scary, tough-girl outfit or the fact that I was squeezing my head like my hands were al that kept my brain from exploding—it may have been a combination of the two.
I stumbled to the nurse’s office wary of stealthy figures lurking in doorways. I was jumping at shadows, but thankful y didn’t run into any footbal players along the way.
The smel of motor oil grew stronger as I approached the nurse’s office.
Weird.
Why would Dylan feel strongly about the school nurse? Maybe he just felt bad about giving me a headache. I knocked and let myself in, since the door wasn’t locked.
“Be right there!” the nurse cal ed from behind a moving curtain. I watched her shoes pace back and forth beneath the striped fabric.
“Can I sit down?” I asked.
Watching the nurse’s feet pacing behind the curtain was making me dizzy. I sat on the stool beside her desk, but wished that she would offer me a cot to lie down on.
When the nurse final y came out, I saw a long dark cloak hanging on a hook on the wal and a cot covered in stacks of boxes.
Great.
It looked like she was using the space for storage. I looked around and didn’t see any other place to take a nap.
“What can I do for you?” the nurse asked.
She looked sickly pale and continual y sniffed and rubbed her nose. I hoped she wasn’t contagious.
“I don’t feel so good,” I said.
Understatement of the
year.
“Could I have something for a headache…and maybe some cold medicine for later?”
If she did give me her cold, then at least I’d be prepared.
“I can give you something for your headache, but we misplaced our recent shipment of cold medicine,” she said.
She started rummaging through a very messy cabinet.
No wonder she’d lost stuff.
“Here you go,” the nurse said, handing me a smal paper cup holding two pil s.
At least she didn’t touch them with her icky germ hands. What kind of nurse doesn’t wash her hands? I thought everyone used that hand sanitizer stuff too, but I didn’t see any. I went to the sink and swal owed the pil s with a mouthful of chlorinated school water. It tasted like it was pumped directly out of the YMCA pool.
Gross.
I thanked the nurse and walked back to class. When I was nearly at my classroom door, I realized where I’d recently seen boxes stamped with the names of popular cold medicines. The supply room where I’d been held hostage by the J-team had been fil ed with those boxes.
My hands started shaking just thinking about that room and I nearly dropped my hal pass. I considered going back to tel the nurse, but the smel of motor oil increased and I felt queasy. Nerves and ghosts were a bad combination. I looked over my shoulder one more time and stepped back into class.
When lunchtime came, I hustled to the cafeteria. Head down, I bit my lip and tried to push through the crowd of students hanging out in the hal s. I didn’t want to be caught alone by the J-team.
I made it to the cafeteria in record time. It was only half ful , but there were already three familiar faces at our table.
I rubbed my eyes just to be sure I wasn’t hal ucinating.
Nope, they were stil there. Gordy and Katie were sitting beside each other, shoulders touching, while Emma sat across from them…laughing.
I smiled and went to spend lunch with my friends. I no longer felt alone or afraid. I could almost forget that the J-team existed.
“Hey, Freak!” a voice shouted.
“You’re gonna get it, Witch!” another voice yel ed.
I froze. Is this what a panic attack feels like? I tried to move, real y I did, but my brain wasn’t listening. If you looked for the little gnomes that made things run smoothly, you’d find a ‘gone fishing’ sign.
Really.
I couldn’t move my arms or legs, though my hands were shaking. My chest contracted and it was impossible to breathe. I started to see sparkly stars and knew I was close to passing out.
No, please not in front of the J-team.
“Hey, Yuki, come sit with us,” Gordy said.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, it was Emma, and Gordy slid his arm around my waist.
“Girl you are so much better than they are,” Emma said. She kept her voice low, but firm. “Do not even give them a second thought.”
“Want some of my cereal?” Katie asked, holding up a mini box of flakes. “I even have soy milk. Emma, um, convinced me not to eat it with cow’s milk.” Gordy and Emma guided me onto a chair while Katie continued to smile and chat like nothing was wrong. My friends absolutely rocked. Even Katie, who I’d only known for such a short time, was a total pro. They knew exactly how to ease me out of my fear stupor.
I blinked back tears and clenched my fists. Now that I could final y move, I was angry. How dare they terrorize this school? Who gave them the right?
“I can’t believe they did that,” I said.
Gordy and Katie looked relieved at my renewed ability to speak, but Emma acted like it was no big deal.
“The J-team are stil being major jerks,” Emma said, shrugging. “Big shock.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t know why I got so freaked out.”
“Because steroids make them scary looking,” Katie said.
I wasn’t sure if she was making a joke, but I laughed.
“They do kind of look like Frankenstein,” I said.
“More like Frankenweenie,” Emma said.
“I always thought Jared looked like the homunculus Gluttony from Ful Metal Alchemist,” Gordy said. “He acts like him too. And that is not a compliment.” I was real y laughing now. The J-team and their jock friends gave up taunting us. We were having way too much fun to be their targets.
When lunch ended, Gordy walked me to class and I agreed to wait for him when the next bel rang. My friends didn’t want me walking the hal s alone, especial y with the J-team yel ing obvious threats, and I didn’t want to risk the panic I felt earlier.
With the help of my friends, I made it through the day.
Waiting for Gordy to walk me to my classes didn’t leave me with any extra time though, so I didn’t have a chance to visit the school nurse again. I promised myself that I would stop by her office tomorrow and tel her about the crates of cold medicine. I couldn’t tel the nurse the real reason why I had been in the supply room—explaining that I was being held hostage by the footbal team would be al kinds of bad, but if I said that I stumbled onto the medicine while looking for art supplies, she shouldn’t get too suspicious.
After thanking Gordy, I let Emma drive me home. We were stil planning our reconnaissance ride along Witchtrot Road later that night. I would have rather gone during daylight, but we had to wait until Emma got out of work.
“It might be better that way, you know, going after dark,” Emma said.
“Why?” I asked, stifling a yawn. “Won’t it be hard to see any clues?”
“Dylan had his accident at night, so it might be best to visit Witchtrot Road under the same circumstances,” Emma said. “And the ful moon wil help make things bright enough to see.”
I was way too tired to argue with Emma’s logic. After another hel ish day at Wakefield High, I was ready for a nap. The ghost induced headache continued to pound a stomping march through my skul and my eyes were gritty with fatigue. I could real y use some beauty sleep.
“I’l bring extra flashlights, you know, in case we need to get out of the car for a closer look,” I said.
“Good idea,” Emma said, grinning excitedly. “See you tonight.”
I stumbled out of Emma’s car and up the stairs to fal into bed. Hopeful y we would find some answers tonight. I couldn’t take another day like today. Being terrorized by the J-team was way too stressful. Who knew that fear could be so exhausting?
*****
After a shower and nap, I was ready to go. I tossed on a black, bel -sleeved top, long, layered skirt, and my red power boots. Dramatic black eyeliner gave the dark circles under my eyes an intentional look. I twisted my hair up into a messy bun, covering up some serious bed-head, and secured it with hair sticks. The hair sticks made me feel like a ninja with sharp, pointy weapons hidden in my updo.
Sweet.
It was long after dark when Emma pul ed into the driveway. My parents were at a movie, so I clomped noisily down the stairs with my backpack stuffed with flashlights. I was probably bringing too many, but being caught out in the dark on a road reputedly haunted by a man murdered for witchcraft and where one student had recently died was not my idea of a good time. You can never be too prepared…
especial y when on your way to a haunted road, that may carry a deadly curse to those who travel it, late at night.
What the heck were we thinking?
I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. Cal would be disappointed in our rash decision to go plunging headlong into potential danger without him or Simon here to help us, but I was getting desperate. I needed to solve the mystery of Dylan’s death and clear my name. School would start again in a few hours and I didn’t have any way yet of convincing the J-team that I was innocent. I shook my head and pul ed a calming breath deep into my bel y.
Desperate measures for desperate times.
I shivered and stepped out into the moonlit night.
Chapter 11
We shouldn’t have come here. My skin was crawling with the wrongness of this place. I didn’t know if a ghost was real y responsible for Dylan’s death, but there was definitely a strong supernatural presence here. It was also real y, real y creepy.
Witchtrot Road was beyond spooky. We lost most of our moonlight as we turned onto the narrow, tree covered lane. Skeletal trees waved their gnarled, multi-jointed fingers to our left and right as though reaching out to pul us deeper into the woods. The forest here was old and dark with an almost tangible presence of its own. I had to take a deep breath and close my eyes to gather the courage to travel past the ever closer trees that threatened to swal ow us whole.
“Do you smel anything?” Emma whispered.
Emma had to keep her eyes forward and both hands on the wheel in order to keep al four tires on the narrow lane. Witchtrot Road may have been easy to travel on horseback, but it was an obvious chal enge to navigate safely in a car. Even with Emma’s careful driving, the eerie sound of branches scraping metal raised the hair on my neck.
“Not yet, but something’s here,” I said. “I can feel it.”
“Do you know where Dylan, um, had his accident?” Emma asked.
Where Dylan died.
“I heard someone at school say he hit pole number thirteen with his motorcycle, but that was probably just a rumor,” I said.
In the dark it was hard to differentiate utility poles from the dense line of trees that encroached on the road. I looked for something standing straighter than the rest, but even the telephone poles tended to lean into the road as though listening to the whispers of their neighbors.
A flash of brown flitted through the space between the trees ahead, but I couldn’t see wel enough to identify the shape. There was only one thing I could be sure of. The shape was large enough to be a person wearing what looked like a hooded cloak, or the ghost of a dead man.
Don’t they make people wear a hood when they go to the
gallows?
Thud. Thud thunk. Thud thunk, thud thunk, thud, thud, thud. Something, or someone, was pounding on the roof of Emma’s car.
“What the heck is that?” Emma shouted, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
Thud, thud, thud, splat. It was raining frogs. Big, so ugly they’re cute, frogs. Living things fal ing from the sky?
Never a good omen. Heck, wasn’t that one of the signs of the freaking apocalypse? I
knew
we shouldn’t have come to this cursed road after dark
.
“Oh em gees, oh em geeeeeees!” I screamed.
Little frog bodies hit the car roof, hood, and windshield. Some of them suffered injuries on impact and their webbed hands clung to the glass windshield as our car lost control.
Emma was an excel ent driver. She was level-headed and could remain calm under pressure, but like most people Emma had an Achil es heel.
Frog carnage
. Emma could face down corporate execs from factory farms and argue with angry werewolves, but make her drive through a deluge of bloody amphibians and she completely lost her icy cool exterior.