Bad Moonlight Read online

  Contents

  Prologue

  Part One: Songs

  Chapter 1: Off A Cliff

  Chapter 2: What’s Wrong With Me?

  Chapter 3: I’m Warning You!

  Chapter 4: First Kiss

  Chapter 5: First Blood

  Chapter 6: Scratch Scratch

  Chapter 7: A Moonlight Run

  Chapter 8: A Body in the Park

  Part Two: Cries

  Chapter 9: A Song For Dee

  Chapter 10: Like an Animal

  Chapter 11: Kit Dies

  Chapter 12: A Surprise in the Closet

  Chapter 13: Make it Stop!

  Chapter 14: Billy Dies

  Chapter 15: Very Worried About Danielle

  Chapter 16: A Big Secret

  Part Three: Howls

  Chapter 17: Out Of The Band

  Chapter 18: The Killer

  Chapter 19: Thirsty

  Chapter 20: Night Visitor

  Chapter 21: Bad News

  Chapter 22: Danielle Goes Hunting

  Chapter 23: A Surprise in the Trunk

  Chapter 24: Billy Knows

  Chapter 25: A Howl in the Woods

  Chapter 26: Who Can She Trust?

  Chapter 27: No Escape

  Chapter 28: A Surprise at Home

  Chapter 29: Big Plans For Danielle

  Chapter 30: Help

  Chapter 31: No Escape

  Chapter 32: Moonlight Wedding

  Chapter 33: Bad Moonlight

  About the Author

  Prologue

  A half-moon shimmered hazily in the supermarket window, a pale reflection of the bright moon high in the night sky. The automatic door buzzed as Danielle Verona stepped into the glare of fluorescent light inside the store.

  She shivered and rubbed her bare arms. The store air conditioner must be turned up to superfreeze, she thought. Danielle wore a sleeveless blue midriff shirt, white short-shorts, and sandals. I’d better stay away from the frozen foods section, she decided.

  She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a silvery display case. Her round, dark eyes stared back at her. She pushed back her straight brown hair, streaked with blond.

  I’m so thin and shapeless, Danielle thought, frowning at herself. I look twelve instead of eighteen.

  A sudden, sharp pain in her back made her spin away from her reflection. “Cliff—stop it!” she snapped. “Do you have to use your head as a weapon?”

  Her ten-year-old brother grinned at her. Headbutting was his new hobby.

  “Stop running into me like that. I’m going to be black and blue!” Danielle declared angrily.

  “You’re a wimp,” Cliff said. “I hardly touched you.”

  “Give your sister a break,” Aunt Margaret scolded, pushing the grocery cart up to them. “Danielle just got home, Cliff. She’s tired. She doesn’t need you giving her a hard time.”

  “Yes, she does,” Cliff insisted, still grinning. He was built more like their father—short and chubby, with a babyish round face. His straw-colored hair was shaved short on the sides, brushed back long on top.

  “Here—you take the cart,” Aunt Margaret said sharply. She shoved it toward Cliff. “Why do I always get one with a wheel that sticks?”

  Cliff grabbed the handle of the grocery cart and zoomed away. He ran full-speed down the aisle, the cart zigzagging wildly from side to side.

  “Cliff—look out!” Aunt Margaret shouted. She turned to Danielle. “He’s so excited to see you,” she confided softly.

  Danielle rolled her eyes. “He sure has a strange way of showing it!”

  They watched Cliff whirl the cart around and come clattering back toward them. “He’s not used to your being away for two weeks,” Aunt Margaret said. “But I’m so glad it’s working out for you, dear.”

  She was a small but sturdy woman. Sharp-featured. Beaklike nose. Pointed chin. With her bleached red hair, steely blue eyes, and heavy red lipstick, Danielle’s aunt looked tough. Hard.

  When Danielle’s parents had died almost three years before, Aunt Margaret had moved across the country to take care of her and Cliff. Danielle hadn’t seen her aunt in years, and she’d been unsure about how they’d get along. But Aunt Margaret turned out to be a wonderful, loving mother to Cliff and Danielle.

  She put a hand on Danielle’s shoulder. “You’re so cold!”

  Danielle shrugged. “I didn’t exactly dress for the arctic!”

  They started walking slowly down the first aisle. Vegetables on one side, fruit on the other. At the end of the aisle a young man in a white apron was spraying the lettuces with a hose, making them glisten.

  “Did you think of a name for the band?” Aunt Margaret asked, dropping a bag of carrots into the cart.

  “Yuck! Carrots!” Cliff complained.

  “Not yet,” Danielle told her aunt. “Caroline wanted to call us the Musically Challenged. We all thought that was pretty funny. But Billy thought it was too negative.”

  “Billy is the leader?” Aunt Margaret asked, tearing off a plastic bag. She bent to select some baking potatoes from a basket on the floor.

  “Your band reeks,” Cliff commented. He tapped Aunt Margaret’s shoulder. “Can we buy candy?”

  “No,” Aunt Margaret replied quickly. Then she changed her mind. She stood up and dropped the potatoes into the cart. “Okay. Go, Cliff. Go pick out some candy. I’ll take the cart.”

  “All right!” he cried happily. He deliberately bumped Danielle hard, nearly knocking her over, as he sped off down the aisle.

  “What a character,” Aunt Margaret muttered. She turned to Danielle, her tiny eyes studying her niece. “You look tired.”

  Danielle sighed. “Two weeks on the road. Bumping along in the van. Playing tiny music clubs.”

  “I’m so glad you’re doing it,” her aunt said. “I’m glad you decided to try the band instead of going straight to college. You need a year to be out on your own, to travel around and have some fun before going back to school.”

  “Well, I am having fun,” Danielle told her. “And Caroline and I have become really close friends.”

  “Caroline is the piano player?” Aunt Margaret asked.

  “Electronic keyboard. And she sings backup,” Danielle replied. “Making a new friend has been really nice. And the band has been getting pretty good crowds. But I sure do miss having home-cooked meals. All week I was thinking, if I have to choke down one more greasy hamburger . . .”

  Aunt Margaret chuckled. She had a quiet, dry laugh that sounded more like a cough. “Well, tonight is your choice night,” she said. “You decide. I’ll make anything you want for our special late dinner.”

  “Hmmmm . . .” Danielle narrowed her dark eyes, thinking hard. “What do I want?” She smiled. “Oh. I know. That special chicken you make. You know. With the pineapples. Sort of oriental?”

  “Okay. You’ve got it,” Aunt Margaret replied.

  “And mashed potatoes,” Danielle added. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your mashed potatoes.”

  “You’re a weird child,” Aunt Margaret teased. “But mashed potatoes it is.” She wandered off down the aisle, struggling to push the three-wheeled cart.

  Danielle shivered. Why do they keep it so cold in here? she wondered. Do people buy more food when they’re half-frozen?

  She made her way down the back aisle, searching for Cliff. In the soaps and detergents aisle, she thought she saw a friend from Shadyside High. She hurried up to him and was about to call out—when he turned around. A stranger.

  Danielle moved past him, avoiding his glance.

  The aisles blended together. The harsh fluorescent light from above gave everything a green tinge. The shelves of jars and cans, the displays, the shoppers all seemed too bright, to
o sharply focused. Not real.

  She walked on. The harsh light flashed in her eyes. She shivered again. The frigid air made goosebumps rise up and down her arms.

  “Danielle—what are you doing?” Cliff’s shrill voice broke through her thoughts.

  “Huh?” She glanced down at the package in her hand.

  A package of raw beef. From the butcher’s shelf.

  The package had been ripped open, Danielle saw. She was squeezing a hunk of raw, purple meat in one hand.

  Her mouth was full. She swallowed the raw meat she had been chewing. It felt cold and slimy as it slid down her throat.

  “Danielle—why are you eating that? What’s wrong with you?” Cliff cried in alarm.

  “I—I don’t know!” Danielle stammered, feeling the cold red blood running down her chin.

  PART ONE

  SONGS

  Chapter 1

  OFF A CLIFF

  “Joey—please slow down,” Danielle pleaded.

  The van bounced over a deep pothole in the highway. The bags and instruments strapped to the top thudded against the roof.

  “I’ll slow down if you’ll come up here and sit on my lap,” Joey declared.

  Danielle could see his grin in the rearview mirror. “No way!” she told him. “Stop being such a jerk, Joey. We don’t want to be pulled over again.”

  He let out a high-pitched laugh and jammed his foot down on the gas pedal. The van roared and shot forward, tossing Danielle back against the seat.

  “Joey—!” Oh, what’s the use, she thought unhappily. He thinks it’s so cool to drive fast. He isn’t going to change.

  Joey let out a happy cry. His curly black hair fluttered behind his head in the rush of air through the open van window. Even though it was night, he drove with his sunglasses over his eyes.

  Danielle sat between Caroline and Mary Beth in the second seat. “I give up. He’s just impossible,” she murmured to them.

  “You girls must be jammed tight back there!” Joey shouted over the roar of the wind. “Come on. Who wants to sit on my lap?” Wheeling around a curve, he patted his leg.

  They ignored him.

  As always.

  Headlights from an oncoming truck swept over the van. Danielle shielded her eyes. She bumped against Caroline as Joey swerved the van sharply to the right.

  “Hey—watch it!” Caroline protested to Joey. She reached up and tugged his fluttering hair.

  “Caroline, are you flirting with me?” he called back.

  She let go of his hair. “For sure,” she muttered sarcastically. “I only flirt with members of my own species!”

  Danielle and Mary Beth laughed. Caroline had a quick mind and a sharp sense of humor.

  Behind them in the backseat, Billy and Kit were asleep. Their heads bounced against the seatbacks as Joey stormed along the narrow highway. But the bouncing and jarring didn’t wake them.

  Danielle glanced back at the two guys.

  Billy Dark was the manager of the band. At twenty-two he was the group’s oldest member. Kit Kragen was two years younger than Billy. Kit was a roadie, the equipment manager. But he was so good looking, girls in the audience usually paid more attention to him than to the band members!

  Far below the guardrail, dark farms and empty fields whirred by. The air from the van’s open windows felt hot and damp.

  “I’ve been thinking about names for us,” Caroline said. “And I thought maybe—”

  “That’s all we ever think about,” Mary Beth interrupted. She was a short, pretty girl, with straight, carrot-colored hair cut very short and intense green eyes.

  Intense was the perfect word to describe Mary Beth, Danielle thought. Mary Beth took everything seriously. She was the band’s drummer, and her playing was as precise and intense as her mind.

  “I think we should call ourselves the Beatles and stop thinking about it,” Caroline joked.

  Danielle laughed. “Wasn’t there already a group with that name?”

  “And they did okay—didn’t they?” Caroline replied. “So maybe the name will work for us!”

  “Can’t you guys ever be serious?” Dee Waters demanded, turning in the front passenger seat to face the other three girls. She wore her dark hair in tightly braided cornrows. Her long, amber earrings matched her almond-shaped eyes and complemented her brown skin.

  Dee had been so quiet, Danielle had practically forgotten she was sitting up there. Caroline, Mary Beth, and Danielle had been talking the entire trip. Dee had stared silently out the window, refusing to join in.

  Will she ever be friendly to me? Danielle wondered.

  Will Dee ever get over her resentment that she’s not the band’s lead singer anymore?

  Danielle suddenly remembered her audition for the band. Caroline’s family had an unfinished room above their garage. The band used it for rehearsals. Danielle had auditioned for them there.

  She had been so nervous. She knew she had a good voice. And she knew she was a pretty good songwriter.

  But would they like her?

  When she arrived, they had all greeted her warmly. Billy had been especially kind. He introduced everyone, making little jokes about each one. “Watch out for Kit,” Billy warned. “He bites.”

  Danielle’s hands trembled as she opened her guitar case and prepared to sing one of her own songs for them.

  “Everybody be nice to Danielle,” Billy told the others as they sprawled around the small room. “She’s going to be a famous songwriter some day.”

  The room was cluttered with amps and guitar cases and coils of cable. Joey, the sound guy, plugged her guitar into an amp for her. He flashed her a thumbs-up.

  The others smiled and watched eagerly as Danielle sat down on a tall stool and tuned up.

  They had all been so nice, so welcoming.

  Everyone but Dee.

  Dee had sat glumly against the wall with her arms crossed. Her unhappy expression never changed.

  Even when Danielle finished her first song to applause and cheers, Dee didn’t move. She stared at Danielle, a bitter expression on her face.

  After her second song they made Danielle wait outside. It didn’t take them long to make a decision about her. Billy came hurrying down the steps. “You’re in!” he told her, wrapping her in a warm hug. “You and Dee will be lead singers. And we want to learn that second song you sang. It’s really excellent!”

  What a happy day that was.

  If only Dee hadn’t tried to spoil it. She had come up to Danielle in the driveway as Danielle started to her car. Dee whispered her words. But Danielle heard them very clearly.

  “You don’t belong in this band.”

  That’s what Dee had said. Her whisper so cold. Like a chill wind.

  “You don’t belong in this band.”

  And then Dee turned, her eyes darting around, making sure none of the others had seen her. She strode quickly away, returning to the garage.

  Danielle had tried to win her over ever since.

  But Dee remained cold and unfriendly.

  “I don’t know why I stay with this band,” Dee was saying, turning from the front seat. “I mean, no name? A band with no name? That’s just pitiful.”

  “You stay because you’re hot for me!” Joey chimed in. He took his right hand off the wheel and slid it around Dee’s shoulder. “Admit it, babes.”

  “Get your hand off me,” Dee warned playfully. She grabbed his wrist and started twisting it. “Unless you want to drive one-handed for the rest of your life!”

  “Ooh!” Joey cried. “I love it when you come on to me like that!”

  Dee let out a cry of disgust.

  Joey returned his hand to the wheel. But he turned back to Danielle, Caroline, and Mary Beth. “I know what you should call the band!” he shouted, grinning.

  “Joey—please!” Danielle pleaded. “Watch the road! We’re on the edge of a cliff!”

  “You should call it Joey’s Groupies!” he declared. He tossed back his h
ead, his long hair flying behind him, and started to utter a loud howl.

  But the cry was cut short as the van slid out of control.

  Danielle shrieked.

  The tires squealed as Joey hit the brake.

  Too late.

  Danielle heard the crush of metal as the van crashed through the low metal guardrail.

  She screamed again as the van sailed off the edge of the cliff.

  Chapter 2

  WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?

  The van shot through the night sky. Far below, Danielle could see jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff.

  The rocks gleamed like knives in the moonlight.

  Then the van’s nose tilted down.

  Danielle pitched forward violently in her seat. She screamed again as the van aimed straight for the gleaming moonlit rocks.

  She felt a rough jolt, followed by the sickening crunch of metal. The van’s front wheels struck the rocks.

  Danielle’s head snapped back. The windshield shattered. Glass flew into the van.

  We’re going to die, Danielle thought. We’re all going to die!

  “We’re going to die!” she screamed aloud.

  “Danielle!”

  “No!” Danielle cried. She bent forward and covered her face with her hands. The van was flipping over. Tumbling through the air like a toy car.

  In seconds we’ll all be dead, Danielle thought. She squeezed her palms against her eyes and waited for the fatal impact.

  A hand touched her shoulder. It felt warm and comforting. Long fingers gripped her tightly and gave her a gentle shake.

  “Danielle!”

  Caroline’s voice.

  Slowly Danielle looked up. Her friend’s blue eyes were filled with concern. “Danielle, it’s okay,” Caroline murmured softly. “Everything’s okay.”

  “But the van—” Danielle stopped. She could feel the van’s rocking motion as it moved smoothly along the highway. She could hear the whine of the tires on the road. She raised her eyes to the windshield. Smooth, unbroken glass.

  We didn’t crash, she thought. It never happened. It was a fantasy. A violent, terrifying fantasy.

  Danielle took a deep, shaky breath. Her heart was still beating wildly.

  “What happened?” Caroline asked. “What was it, Danielle?”