The Dead Boyfriend (16 page)

Mr. Lovett leaned forward and crossed his hands on the table. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Go ahead, Caitlyn.”

I started to read. “Stradivarius musical instruments were made in the seventeenth and eighteenth century by an Italian family named Stradivari. Today, they are valuable beyond belief, not just because of the quality of the workmanship, but because only 650 of them survive in the entire world.”

I raised my eyes from the paper to see if everyone was listening. And uttered a gasp when I saw Blade. He stood in the open doorway.

He wore his red hoodie. One sleeve was pulled down low, covering the stump where his hand was missing. His hair was disheveled, falling around his pale white face.

He gave a thin smile as our eyes met. His eyes flashed. Then he raised the back of his hand to his lips. He puckered his dead lips and, eyes locked on me, began to make loud kissing noises against his hand.

I lowered the essay and pointed to the door. “Don't you hear that?” I cried. “Don't you hear what he's doing? Look! See him? Do you see him there? It's Blade!”

Chairs scraped as everyone turned to the door.

But Blade was gone. The doorway was empty.

They quickly turned back to gape at me. I heard whispers and some muffled laughter.

“Caitlyn, I don't see anyone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Blade? You mean the kid who was killed?”

I tossed my essay onto the table, shoved my chair out of the way, and ran. I hurtled out of the classroom. Mr. Lovett's startled shouts followed me down the hall.

I lowered my shoulder and pushed open the side door to the school. I burst outside, breathing hard, my temples throbbing.

“I can't go back there,” I told myself. “I can't go anywhere. Not till Blade is gone. But … how do I get rid of him?”

 

34.

I knew Deena Fear was the only one who could answer that question. I jogged into the student parking lot. I glanced in all directions.

Every nerve in my body was tense. My skin prickled. I felt sure that Blade would come leaping out at me.

The parking lot was deserted. Everyone was in class. Across the street, I saw a woman pushing a baby stroller. A tall white poodle followed after them. Normal life.

I wanted my life to be normal, too.

I climbed into my car. The steering wheel was hot from the sun burning through the windshield. I pulled out of the narrow parking place.

I glimpsed someone watching me from the school entrance. Was it Mr. Lovett? I didn't care. How could I care about school? How could I care about anything with a living corpse following me, haunting me?

The drive to Deena's house was a blur of flashing lights and streams of sunlight, shade then sun, houses sliding past, trees and cars and everything … everything just a jumble, a pulsing wave of motion and color. I didn't even realize I had turned onto Fear Street until the street became dark under the archway of tangled old trees.

As I reached the cul-de-sac where the street ends and the woods begin, Deena's house came into view. No car parked in front.

A black cat sat watching me from the front yard, very still, green eyes glowing, half-hidden in the tall weeds that led up to the house. The green eyes reminded me of Blade. And once again, I saw those glassy blank eyes green as emeralds, pictured them watching me as he stood in the classroom doorway making those obnoxious sounds. Enjoying himself. Having fun as he haunted me and drove me crazy.

I pulled to the curb and climbed out of the car, my eyes on the house. Sunlight reflected off the windows along the front. I couldn't see inside them.

The cat didn't move. It sat up straight as if ready to defend its territory. Its eyes followed me as I made my way past it to the door at the side of the house.

I pushed the doorbell. I didn't hear it ring inside. I waited a short while. The cat lost interest and wandered toward the burned-out remains of the Fear Mansion.

I could feel my heartbeats start to race. I rang the bell again. Then I knocked on the door. “Deena? Are you home? Deena?”

Silence.

The morning sun, now high in the sky, beamed down hard, but it didn't warm me. A chill covered my body, as if I'd just stepped from a cold bath.

“Deena? Where are you?”

I pulled out my phone. I studied her number again. I'd called it before today, and it had worked. Maybe if I tried it again …

I punched it and waited.
Please be there. Please answer.

No. I got the same message telling me the number had been disconnected. With a sigh, I dropped the phone into my bag. I turned and pounded the door with both fists. Pounded until my knuckles throbbed.

“Deena? Deena?” I was about to totally lose it. I could feel myself about to snap, about to explode into a million pieces. “Deena?”

A window slid open at the side of the house. A head poked out. I squinted into the glare of the sun and recognized Deena. “You're home?” I said in a tiny, choked voice.

“Caitlyn, it's you,” she said. “I've been expecting you.”

Expecting me?

The window slid shut. A few seconds later, I heard footsteps inside the house, the front door swung open. “I rang and knocked,” I said breathlessly. “I've been shouting your name and—”

She motioned for me to step inside. “I was in the back. Getting ready,” she said. “Getting ready for you.”

I edged past her into the small front entryway. The house smelled strange, as if something was burning. “Do you have something on the stove?”

She shook her head. “No. But I
am
cooking something up.”

I didn't like the sound of that. I tried to interpret the thin smile that spread on her black lipsticked lips, but I couldn't figure it out. Was she making a joke?

She had her long hair tied back with a wide purple ribbon, but strands had come loose and fell about her owlish face. She wore a satiny purple top over black straight-legged jeans.

She took a few steps toward me. I instinctively stepped back.

“I … looked for you in school,” I blurted out.

“But, Caitlyn, I don't go to your school.”

“I didn't realize,” I said. “Where do you go?”

“Actually, I'm homeschooled.” For some reason, that made her laugh. A scornful laugh.

“By your parents? You said your parents are dead,” I said.

She laughed again. “I homeschool myself.”

I nodded. My fists were clenched. Every muscle in my body was tensed.
Was I crazy to come here?

No. Just desperate.

She studied me. She seemed very amused. “Why are you stalling? We don't have to chat like we're best friends. I know why you came.”

“Okay,” I said. “Can you … can you help me?”

Her smile faded. “I think I can. I'm very prepared. I have what we need.”

I shook my head. “Deena, you're talking in mysteries. What are you saying?”

She reached under the oversized purple blouse. She pulled something out from beneath her shirt, something round, a little smaller than a softball.

A hand. Coiled into a fist.

Blade's hand.

I stared at it. The thumb poking over the curled fingers. The hand had turned a light purple color. “H-How … did you get that?” I stammered.

“Never mind,” Deena said. “It doesn't matter.” She tossed the hand up, then caught it in her palm. Tossed it again and caught it. Then she motioned me toward the hall. “Caitlyn, are you ready to rock and roll?”

 

35.

Deena led me down the long, shadowy hall to her room. The burning smell grew stronger as we walked. And as I followed her into the room, I saw that it came from dozens of burning candles, black candles that she had placed on every surface.

Eleven tall black candles formed a pentagram on the floor. The candles were scented and filled the air with a tangy incense aroma, kind of cinnamon.

The parrot made a chirping cry as I came near and flapped its wings as if it wanted to escape its perch. Three or four silvery fish floated through the aquarium on the table to the right of the parrot's perch.

Deena didn't speak, silently tossed Blade's hand up and down as we walked to the center of the room. Red morning sunlight filled the glass wall looking out on the Fear Street Woods.

She motioned to two black, square cushions she had set down in the middle of the tall, burning candles on the floor. “You sit there, Caitlyn,” she said, breaking the silence.

I hesitated. “Wh-what are we going to do?”

“You'll see. We have a lot of work to do.”

She walked to the table and picked something up from beside the aquarium. I recognized it as she draped the chain around her neck. The silver bird amulet. She arranged it over her purple blouse and returned to the pentagram.

She carefully stepped between the flames and, without warning, tossed the hand to me.

I fumbled it. Caught it before it hit the floor. “You hold it,” Deena said, taking her seat across from me, so close our knees almost touched.

I gripped Blade's hand in both hands, afraid I would drop it. The hand had hardened. It felt like grainy plaster. The thumb and fingers were locked tight. At the stub end where the wrist had been, I could see dark spots where there once were veins.

I shuddered. How did I get involved with this terrifying girl?

“Deena, tell me,” I insisted. “What are we doing here?”

She squinted at me through her big, round glasses. “Bringing Blade here, of course.” She raised the amulet off her chest with one hand and smoothed the front of it with two fingers.

“Bringing him here?”

She nodded. Candlelight flickered off her pale face, reflected in her glasses. “He betrayed us again,” she murmured. “Well … actually, he betrayed
me
.”

Blade's hand felt heavy between mine. I didn't want to hold it. I lowered it to my side to get it out of sight. A wave of nausea rolled up from the pit of my stomach.

“Betrayed you? He's been haunting
me
,” I said. “He said he would never leave me.”

Her black lips tightened into an angry scowl. “That's exactly my point, Caitlyn. It was supposed to be
my
turn. I worked all that night to bring him back … to bring him back to
me
, not to you.”

She tossed the loose strands of hair off her face. “He betrayed me again. I cannot allow it.”

Suddenly, without thinking, my most frightening thought burst from my lips. I never should have said it. But it was there in my mind, terrifying me as I sat cross-legged across from her. As I sat there, such an easy victim.

“Deena, if you killed me … Blade might be yours. Is that your plan? To get me out of the way?”

Her eyes widened in shock and she uttered a short gasp. “Kill you? Of
course
not. What are you
thinking
? You're my best friend in the world.”

She's crazy. Totally insanely psycho.

I swallowed, trying to force down my nausea. “So you're going to bring Blade here and—?”

“Explain to him,” she said. She leaned over a black candle, lowering her face to the flame. She raised the amulet in front of her. “Caitlyn, pick up Blade's hand. Hold it in front of you. We want him to know we have it.”

Obediently, I cupped the hard purple hand between my trembling hands. I raised it high.

“He will come,” Deena said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “He will know we have it, and he will come for it. And then…” She raised her eyes to me. “… We will have him.”

She dropped her gaze to the amulet and lowered it to the candle flame. Shutting her eyes, she began to chant. Words in a strange language I'd never heard.

Her lips moved quickly, her tongue clicking against her teeth, her eyes shut, the sound of her voice just a murmur against the flickering light, a whisper so light, I wasn't sure I was hearing it.

She didn't move a muscle. Kept the amulet in place over the flame and whispered her strange words, her back straight, her legs spread out from the cushion.

I held the hand in front of me. My arms started to ache, and my back stiffened. I shifted my weight but it didn't help. I took deep breaths and wondered how long Deena would chant, how long it would take before Blade came knocking on the door.

And then what? Then what? Deena was being so mysterious. She didn't want me to know her entire plan.

Was she keeping it a secret because it would end badly for me, too?

I didn't buy that BFF nonsense. I knew I was in danger, too.

But I couldn't just jump up and run. If she really wanted to help me get rid of Blade … If she really wanted to use her powers to send Blade back to his coffin … I had to stay. I had to do what she asked.

I shifted my weight again. My arms throbbed. My back ached. I stared straight ahead at Deena and listened to her drone on … and on.

My eyelids suddenly felt heavy. The soft rush of her whispered words were lulling me to sleep. I struggled to stay alert—and gasped when something moved between my hands.

I gazed down and saw the fingers on Blade's hand start to move.

I let out a horrified cry and dropped the hand to the floor in front of me. It made a squishy
thud,
bounced once, and stopped at Deena's ankles. And I stared in horror as the dead fingers slowly unfurled. The thumb slid out stiffly, and the fingers curled and uncurled, as if testing themselves.

Deena opened her eyes for only a second. She glimpsed the moving hand, like a fat purple insect trying to get off its back. Her expression didn't change. She closed her eyes again. She chanted softly.

Gripped in horror, I watched the hand flop onto its other side. Like a crab, it began to crawl over the floor. “Deena—” I shouted. “It's moving. It's crawling away.” I couldn't hold in my terror.