Dark Moon (Nightmare Hall) (8 page)

A glum Alfred remained stubbornly at Eve’s side, glaring at Garth.

Ignoring Alfred as they all walked down the hall, Garth said to Eve, “I just wanted to make sure we were okay. I mean, we never finished our discussion last night, did we? I’d have hung around, but you looked like you really needed to crash in your room. Feeling better?”

“You don’t have to worry about her,” Alfred said before Eve could answer. “She
has
people to look out for her.”

Eve shot him an irritated look. “I don’t need
anyone
looking out for me,” she said, forgetting for the moment that the previous afternoon in the maze she would have been grateful for just that. “I can take care of myself.” To Garth, she said, “I’m fine. Thanks for asking. Why aren’t you at work?”

“I have Mondays off. I thought maybe you could use some help at the carnival this afternoon. And I wanted to know if you’d heard anything from the police about the maze. Did they find anything? Any clues?”

Although they had just left the building and walked out into bright sunshine and a beautiful, balmy day, Eve felt a chill down her spine when Garth mentioned the maze. “Nope. Nothing yet. I guess they’ll call me when they know something.”

They walked in silence across the Commons, a wide, green expanse of lawn where a few students were tossing Frisbees. Behind them, Andie and Serena continued to argue heatedly with Boomer and his friends about the effect of a full moon on earthlings.

“You don’t believe in anything that you can’t see with your own eyes?” Andie was saying in a loud voice. “Well, I haven’t seen you actually
make
a touchdown yet, Boomer.”

Loud hoots and laughter at Boomer’s expense followed.

“What’s all the arguing about?” Garth asked as they approached the science building where Eve’s next class was held.

“Nothing,” Eve answered. “Nothing important, anyway. It’s leftover from our parapsychology class. Some of them think paranormal stuff is actually normal. We argue about it all the time.”

Garth hummed the
Twilight Zone
theme song. “You mean like someone bending metal spoons with their mind, and ESP, stuff like that?”

Eve nodded, and glanced over at him as they arrived at the art building. “You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?”

“I believe in everything. Until someone proves to me that it’s not possible. And no one’s done that yet.” He grinned down at her. “Are you about to do it now? Enlighten me?”

“No. I don’t care enough about any of it to prove that it doesn’t exist.” Afraid that she had sounded too much like her mother again, Eve hastily added, “I mean, I’ve got a lot of other stuff to think about right now.”

“So, I repeat my offer to help. I’ll be back at two. Meet you on the grounds, in front of the Ferris wheel.” Garth glanced up at the sky. “It’s not going to rain. That’s a good omen, right?”

Eve frowned. Omens again. What
was
it with people? Why couldn’t they just deal with reality? So it wasn’t going to rain. The only thing that meant was that they weren’t going to get wet. And yes, that was a good thing. But it wasn’t a sign that the carnival was going to be a raging success. There was a lot more to running the Founders’ Day celebration than weather.

“We don’t need you,” Alfred insisted as Garth turned to leave.

“I didn’t say you did. I just said I’d be there. And I will.”

When he had gone, Alfred held the door open for Eve, saying, “What are you letting him hang around for? He’s not even on the committee.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Alfred,” Eve said firmly, “we were rained out early last night. That’s not good. We lost money. We need to make that up today if we’re going to come out ahead. So I’m not turning down any offers for help.”

After her classes, she stopped at the infirmary to check on Kevin. He was still bruised and sore, but promised he’d be back on his feet by Wednesday. “How’d class go this morning?” he asked.

Eve knew he was talking about Dr. Litton’s class. He hated missing it.

Eve sat in a wooden chair beside Kevin’s bed. “The usual. Andie started an argument about the moon, of all things. You can borrow my notes if you want.”

“Ah, the full moon. I saw it through my window last night. Not quite there, but almost.” He smiled knowingly at Eve. “No need to ask which side you were on. The side of practical reality, no doubt.”

Eve wasn’t sure why that stung, but it did. “You make being practical sound almost like a crime,” she snapped.

“Not a crime. It’s just … well, you never know, Eve. Maybe it’s a mistake to dismiss things you don’t understand until you’ve explored them some.”

Almost exactly what Garth had said. Kevin would like Garth. “The only thing I’m going to explore right now,” she said, standing up, “is the carnival site. We need a really good afternoon, so keep your fingers crossed, okay?”

He grinned up at her. “Just a silly superstition?”

Eve couldn’t help laughing. She told him to get better fast, waved, and left.

Just as she’d hoped, the sun had dried the mud from last night’s rain. Maybe that
was
a good sign.

Taking a deep breath, she hurried over to the Mirror Maze and, hands shaking slightly, hung an OUT OF ORDER sign on the booth. Then she turned quickly and hurried away.

The afternoon was a rousing success for the Founders’ Day carnival. Beautiful weather brought both students and townspeople out in huge numbers. Eve stayed busy making the rounds, checking to make sure there was enough food in the food booths, money for change at the game booths, and that the rides were in working order.

Garth showed up shortly after two, and Eve didn’t complain when he made the rounds with her. It gave them a chance to talk, and she was pretty sure no one would try to hurt her while Garth was at her side.

The afternoon went by quickly. The committee met in the food tent at twilight to eat a quick meal and discuss any problems. There were none. The crowds were good, the weather perfect, and only a handful of people had complained about the Mirror Maze being shut down.

Over coffee, Eve felt herself relaxing. Maybe it
was
going to be a success, after all. Maybe they’d make enough money to make a huge donation to Alice’s scholarship fund.

When they finished dinner, she was able to say, “Back to work!” cheerfully. “I want to check out the games again. Don’s manning the dart booth, and he was worried about running out of prizes.”

Alfred and Garth wanted to go with her, but Eve was getting tired of being escorted everywhere. She felt relaxed enough to dismiss them, telling them she had better things for them to do. She sent Alfred to the Ferris wheel to make sure all was well, and Garth to the Devil’s Elbow. Both protested, but Eve ignored them. She wasn’t a child. She didn’t need protectors.

Serena promised to check the food booths now that the evening crowd was arriving, and Andie went off to freshen her makeup, promising to meet Eve at the dart booth. Eve struck out across the carnival grounds on her own.

Darkness had fallen while they were in the food tent. The garish yellow bulbs on the Ferris wheel spun around in a hazy glow, and the nearly full moon lit up a black velvet sky. Laughter and music and the smell of hot dogs, popcorn, and cotton candy filled the air around her as Eve made her way to the dart booth. A clown, dressed in the same costume Garth had worn the day before, passed her, carrying a huge bouquet of brightly colored balloons. People called out as she went by, “Great carnival, Eve!” “Good job, Eve!” She’d heard those words many times before, and they gave her the same sense of warmth they always had.

But … this was only Monday. The whole week lay ahead of her, stretching out in front of her like a sleeping snake, peaceful enough now but ready to strike at any moment.

There was a large, noisy crowd in front of the dart booth. Inside, Boomer, the football player who had argued with Andie that morning, was taking his turn playing “target.” He was standing at the rear of the booth with an apple on his head. The darts had harmless, rubber suction tips. If the customer’s aim was accurate, the apple would have as many as five thick black darts protruding from it.

Boomer’s huge bulk nearly filled the booth. Eve had had to promise to help him with two term papers to get him to participate. He was laughing now, the shiny red apple perched on the top of his blond head.

Reluctant to push through the crowd, Eve went around instead to the back of the booth and lifted the canvas flap.

She crouched near the ground, afraid that if she stood up, she’d distract the customer, a boy named Tony Paris.

Tony concentrated on his aim. The first four darts he threw smacked into the apple and held. The crowd of friends around him cheered. One more successful throw, and he’d win a prize.

Tony raised his arm to take aim again.

Eve watched as the fifth dart hit the air. Its aim seemed accurate. It was heading straight for Boomer who, taunting Tony, stood perfectly still, his powerful body a can’t-miss target against the canvas.

Eve peered more closely. There was something wrong.

There were
two
darts aiming straight at Boomer.

But … one had no round, fat suction cup on its tip. And what was there instead made Eve’s blood stop flowing.

A metal tip. She saw, heading straight for Boomer, a sharp, wicked-looking, pointed metal tip, the very kind she’d been so careful not to order. “No,” she had told the carnival supply people, “not
that
kind. Not real darts. We want the other kind, the rubber suction cup-tipped ones. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“We don’t want anyone getting hurt” … she
had
said that. She clearly remembered saying that.

But someone was going to get hurt, anyway.

Eve opened her mouth to scream, knowing it was already too late.

I
T
WAS
TOO LATE
.

Even as Eve opened her mouth to scream a warning, even as Boomer realized that there were two missiles flying toward him and that one was not what it was supposed to be, the metal point, sharp as an icepick, slammed into the middle of his chest. It penetrated his thin white T-shirt, impaling itself just above his rib cage.

At the same time, Tony’s harmless rubber-tipped dart slapped up against the apple. But no one was looking at it. All eyes were on Boomer’s chest.

There were gasps and shrieks from the crowd. Then shock struck everyone dumb and an appalled silence fell.

A tiny spot of bright red encircled the dart protruding from Boomer’s chest and began spreading.

He looked down, the expression on his face one of total bewilderment. The apple rolled off his head and fell to the ground, bouncing several times before it rolled to rest at Eve’s feet. Still open-mouthed, her eyes left Boomer and focused on the apple, as if it might have some answers for her.

It didn’t.

When she pulled herself to her feet and looked at Boomer again, he was still standing. His face wore that same hurt, bewildered look, but his skin was ashen. He placed his hands around the dart gently, carefully, as if he needed to make sure that it was actually implanted in his body. Then he swayed, just a little, took a half-step backward, and slowly, like someone deciding they’ve been standing long enough and might like to sit down for a while now, slid to a sitting position on the ground, his back against the canvas.

Eve ran to him, knelt beside him, took his wrist, feeling for a pulse. When she found it, it was weak and thready.

“Don’t remove the dart!” a voice she recognized as Garth’s warned from behind her. “Leave it in place. If you take it out, he could bleed to death.”

Eve had no intention of removing the dart. She could no more have pulled it from Boomer’s chest than she could have put it there in the first place. “Ambulance,” she whispered to Garth, and he barked the order over his shoulder.

The crowd of witnesses began shouting then, and pushing and shoving to see over the counter. Other people, noticing the commotion, joined them, until the crowd had swollen to three times its original size. In a fog of shock, her heart pounding in fear for Boomer, Eve half-heard questions being tossed back and forth. “What’s going on? Who’s hurt? Is that Boomer? Oh, God, he’s bleeding! What happened? Is he dead?”

Tony, the boy who had been throwing darts when Boomer was struck kept shouting, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t! See, the darts
I
threw are still stuck to the apple, see? The dart that hit Boomer came from somewhere else.”

Eve kept her hand on Boomer’s wrist. As long as she could feel that pulse, feel the blood pumping through his veins, she could tell herself that she was holding onto his life, refusing to let it slip away. His eyes were still open, staring straight ahead, but they were vacant, reminding Eve of the glass eyes on her dolls when she was little.

The wound was so close to Boomer’s heart. Too close.

“Where is that ambulance?” she hissed to Garth. Several of the committee members, including Andie and Alfred, had joined them inside the booth, drawn there by the crowd and the noise. Serena hovered near the counter, upset but trying to disperse the onlookers. They ignored her.

A doctor who had been enjoying the carnival with his family arrived, his black bag in hand, and after shaking his head grimly, wrapped a blood-pressure cuff around Boomer’s upper left arm. When he had taken a reading, he shook his graying head again and was about to speak when the shrill wail of the ambulance split the air.

The crowd did part, then, to make way for the emergency vehicle, which drove across the carnival grounds straight to the dart booth.

“He’s not going to die, is he?” Eve anxiously asked the doctor as the injured Salem University athlete was loaded into the ambulance. “I mean, he’s really strong and healthy. That will help, won’t it?”

“It might,” was the doctor’s cryptic answer. He climbed into the ambulance with the patient.

Eve asked the same question of the attendant as he slammed and locked the doors. All she would say was, “Can’t say. Stand back, please.”

When the ambulance had pulled away, its siren shrieking to prove there was no time to waste, Eve sagged against the dart booth’s counter. A handful of suction cup-tipped darts lay on her left. But there was blood on her blouse and skirt, proof that there had been a different kind of dart in the booth.