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Midnight Games Page 2
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Jamie took the coin and examined it, turning it over. “I’ll bet it’s real gold.”
Shark grinned at her. “Maybe I’m filthy rich and don’t know it. I took a whole pile of these coins from that room.”
Jamie spins it on the table. Shark grabs it up. He finishes his beer and walks over to Ryland to get another one.
Lewis is wearing his down parka, even though it’s about eighty degrees in the bar. He turns to me. “You look tense, Nate.”
I don’t answer. I don’t know what to say to that.
“We’re all tense,” Ada says. “Everyone at school is tense. Haven’t you noticed?”
I tilt the beer bottle to my mouth. “Because of Candy?”
Ada nods. “A lot of people think it wasn’t an accident. They think Candy was murdered.”
Whoa. I nearly drop the bottle. Shark and I were there. We know what happened. We saw Candy go flying headfirst down the stairs, screaming to her death.
Shark glances at me. He tucks the gold coin into his jeans pocket. “People think there is a killer out there?”
Ada narrows her eyes at him. “They say it wasn’t a human killer. They say it was the curse of Fear Street.”
I shake my head. “That’s so over,” I say. “Fear Street is a shopping center now. How can anyone still believe that stuff?”
Shark taps the table. “We’re sitting right where the Fear Mansion stood.” He shouts to Ryland behind the bar. “Hey, Ry—think this bar is haunted?”
“Yeah. By you guys.” Ryland doesn’t lift his head from his magazine.
“Hey, you love us,” Shark replies. “If we didn’t come here every night, what would you do?”
Ryland grins. “Enjoy the peace and quiet?”
The front door swings open. We all turn. A girl steps into the neon red light at the entrance.
The red light shimmers and wraps around her like a cloak.
And behind the curtain of red, I see . . . I see another figure. A dark figure rising above the girl.
I lean over the table and squint into the eerie light. It’s a bird. A giant blackbird. It raises its wings and beats them hard, as if fighting off the red light.
I see one blue eye. The eye seems to be staring into the bar, staring straight at me!
I know it.
I recognize that bird from somewhere.
And I open my mouth in a scream I can’t stop.
5
Ada jumps up. She shakes me by the shoulders. “Nate—what’s wrong? What is it?”
The girl takes a few steps into the bar. Behind her, the bird vanishes.
It just disappears into the red neon. The last thing I see is its blue eye.
I take a deep breath and hold it. I watch the girl approach. Did she know that bird was hovering above her? I don’t think so.
Ada squeezes my shoulders. “You’re trembling,” she says. “What made you scream like that?”
Everyone stares at me.
I keep my eyes on the girl. “I . . . I guess I freaked because of that girl,” I tell them.
I don’t want them to know I’m suddenly seeing strange, one-eyed blackbirds.
“The girl looks so much like Jamie,” I say. “I . . . I thought I was seeing double.”
Jamie laughs. “Of course she looks like me. What’s your problem, Nate?” She gives me a gentle shove. “It’s my cousin Dana. Remember I told you about her?”
My heart is still pounding.
Up at the front, Ryland is telling Jamie’s cousin to kiss the plaque on the wall. She hesitates. She waves at Jamie. Then she leans forward and gives the plaque a peck.
“Remember?” Jamie whispers. “Dana is going to live with me and my family. For the rest of senior year.”
I’m starting to feel normal again. But I can’t lose the picture of that staring blackbird, floating in the red neon above Dana’s head.
“She looks so much like you,” I tell Jamie. “Isn’t she the one you don’t like?”
“Sshhh.” Jamie shoves me again. “Here she comes.” She turns to the others. “Be nice to her, guys. She’s had a horrible year.”
Dana steps up to the table. She has Jamie’s wavy, black hair and her round, high forehead and dark eyes. When she smiles, she has Jamie’s smile.
“Hi, everyone,” she says.
“You made it. I didn’t know if you were coming or not,” Jamie tells her.
Shark pulls over a chair. “I’m Shark,” he says. “That’s Lewis, and that ugly dude is my friend Nate.”
Everyone laughs.
Dana pulls out the chair and starts to sit down.
“Nice to meet you,” she says. “I’m Dana Fear.”
PART TWO
6
My name is Dana Fear, and I’m seventeen. A week after I moved in with my cousin Jamie Richards, she threw a party to introduce me to her friends. That was very nice of her.
Jamie hasn’t always been nice to me.
We didn’t get along when we were kids. My first memories are of Jamie pulling my hair and not letting me play with her dolls.
She had shelves and shelves of dolls, I remember. And a big, clean room, with bunk beds so she could have sleepovers. And she had a huge closet filled with toys and games and videos.
My room at home was about the size of her closet. My family was poor, and we lived in a tiny, falling-down house on the edge of the Fear Street Woods.
Jamie’s family never visited our house. We always went to her house. Her father was a lawyer or something, and my parents were always talking about how rich they were.
They lived in a big, stone house in North Hills, the fancy part of Shadyside. I remember the long driveway that curved around to the back. They had a barbecue grill with a tall chimney built right into their patio, and their own tennis court.
Funny, the things you remember from your childhood.
I remember standing with Jamie on her tennis court one day. She spilled out a big, wire basket of tennis balls. They rolled all over, and she ordered me to pick them up.
I ran around the court, gathering up tennis balls. And when I filled the basket, she spilled them all out again.
She thought that was a riot. She tossed back her head and laughed. I thought she was really mean.
When I was ten, my family moved away from Shadyside, and I didn’t see Jamie for the longest time.
Last year, I heard about her accident. I didn’t know the details. I heard she was at the old Fear Mansion when it was torn down, and she and her friend Lewis fell into the hole for the new foundation. A mountain of dirt started to fall in on them, and they were almost buried alive.
I called Jamie when she finally got home from the hospital. She was surprised to hear from me. She said she couldn’t remember the accident at all. She knew that two off-duty cops had rescued her and her friend Lewis.
She said she had a bad hip, which made her limp. But everything else seemed okay. She was totally bummed that she had spent so much time in the hospital in rehab for her leg that she wouldn’t be able to graduate with her class. She had to do senior year over again.
We talked on the phone about seeing each other someday, even though we were in different cities. Of course I didn’t know then that my life was about to blow up, and that I’d have to come live with Jamie and her parents for the rest of senior year.
Last week, when I climbed the steps of her front porch, I set down my suitcases and my hamster cage, and I took a deep breath before ringing the bell.
I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
What would Jamie be like? I wondered. I knew she’d still be pretty, with those big, dark eyes and her creamy, pale skin and wavy, black hair.
But would she be glad to see me? Or would she still treat me as the poor cousin she was forced to hang out with?
I raised my finger to the big, brass doorbell—and the door swung open before I could ring it.
Jamie came rushing out and swept me up in a warm hug. She step
ped back to look at me. Then hugged me again.
“You look so fabulous!” she gushed. “I—I can’t believe you’re here! It’s so awesome you’re going to be living here!”
She picked up my heaviest bag. “You’re tall now,” she said. “I was always taller than you, wasn’t I? I remember those awful yellow Reeboks you used to wear, without any laces, right? You thought that was cool or something, but it was so geeky.”
I laughed. “I didn’t think you’d remember me at all.”
She narrowed those dark eyes at me. “Of course, I do. I remember everything. I was bossy then, totally mean to you. I guess it was because you were so quiet and sad-looking and . . . shy.”
“I’m not shy anymore,” I said, grinning.
It’s true. No one would ever call me shy. For one thing, I’m really into guys. And I know how to get their attention.
I may not be as pretty and dramatic-looking as Jamie. But guys think I’m hot.
I like to go out and party and get trashed and get crazy.
It helps me forget how sick my life is.
Wow. When Jamie greeted me like that—like a long-lost friend—it meant so much to me. I thought I’d burst out crying. I really did.
I need Jamie to be my friend. My life has sucked for so long. I need this new start. New friends. New everything.
I picked up the hamster cage and peered inside. Hammy sat in a corner, burrowed down in the wood shavings, staring out at me with those shiny, black eyes.
I knew he was confused, moving to a new home. Well . . . I was confused too. Confused and hurt and angry.
I picked up my other suitcase and waited for Jamie to lead the way. She wore an oversize, white T-shirt pulled down over black yoga pants. Her hair fell in loose strands around her face, tied in a single ponytail.
Her skin was paler than I remembered. When she smiled at me, I could see tiny, blue veins pulsing in her temples.
She limped badly as she led the way to the front stairs. I realized she was still not fully recovered from her accident.
I wanted to ask her a million questions about it. What were she and Lewis doing at the wreck of the Fear Mansion? How could they ever fall into such a deep hole? Why were they there so late at night?
The questions could wait. Maybe Jamie didn’t even remember the answers.
I followed her up the front stairway. “Dana, you have the whole attic to yourself,” she said. “It’s very cozy. I think you’ll like it. Is that a hamster in there? Better keep him away from my mom. She’s allergic to all kinds of animals. What’s his name?”
“Hammy,” I said. “Clever, huh?”
She laughed. “How did you ever come up with that?”
We were both breathless by the time we dropped the suitcases to the floor in my new attic room. I set the hamster cage down on a table in front of the window. Gazing out, I could see the long, front lawn with its two flower beds, empty now since it was November. Two tall, old trees stood on both sides of the driveway, mostly bare except for a few clumps of dead, brown leaves.
Jamie lifted one of the suitcases onto the narrow bed against the wall. “Sorry about your mom,” she said.
“Yeah, sorry,” I muttered. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
She wasn’t expecting me to be so bitter. I could see the shock on her face.
“Such a bad year for our family,” she said softly. “First, cousin Cindy died, then your mom. How is your dad doing? Your mom died so suddenly. He must still be in shock.”
“How should I know?” I asked. My voice trembled. I didn’t want it to. I wanted to sound calm and controlled. But sometimes I just can’t hold in my anger.
“He won’t talk to me,” I said. “He can’t deal with me, I guess.”
Jamie put a hand on my shoulder. “Just because he sent you to live here . . . ”
“He didn’t want me!” I cried. “He didn’t want me to live with him. My mom dies. So he sends me off to a cousin I haven’t seen in seven years. How should that make me feel? You tell me, Jamie. How should I feel about that?”
I was talking through gritted teeth. I looked down and saw my hands coiled into tight, red fists.
Jamie took a step back. Her face went even paler. I could see she was surprised. She studied me for a long moment.
“Dana, you’re scaring me,” she said. “I’m serious. You look so angry, like you could kill someone.”
Kill someone?
No way. What a strange thing to say.
Did I really look like that?
Kill someone?
Me?
7
It was an excellent party. Jamie had the music cranked up. And the dining room table was loaded down with pepperoni and onion pizzas and long submarine sandwiches.
No beer. Jamie’s parents were home. But everyone seemed to be having a good time, anyway.
Danny, Jamie’s seven-year-old brother, printed out a banner on his computer: WELCOME, DANA—each letter in a different color. It was strung up over the piano.
Danny is a cool little guy. He has short, blond hair and bright, blue eyes, and a killer smile, even with two front teeth missing. Tonight, he had a fake tattoo of a dragon on one cheek.
Everyone was making a fuss over him. One of Jamie’s friends was trying to teach him how to dance. But he kept stomping down on her feet. He thought that was a riot. Each time he did it, he giggled like a fiend.
The first two guys I bumped into at Jamie’s party were Nate and Shark. I’d met them a few nights before at the bar everyone goes to late at night.
Shark told me his real name is Bart Sharkman but everyone calls him Shark. He is a big, athletic-looking guy, kinda intense, nervous. He kept gazing around a lot. I think it was hard for him to stand still for very long.
He is cute. I like his spiky hair. I wondered if maybe I could get the shark to bite. But then this streaky-blond girl named Nikki came over to us and wrapped her arm through Shark’s.
Nikki seemed okay. She had a funny sense of humor and a hoarse, smoky voice that I liked.
Nate was kinda cute too. Sort of a cuddly teddy bear type. I knew right away why I could be into him. He reminded me of Dustin, my old boyfriend. No joke. He reminded me of Dustin big-time. So in a way, I kinda felt I already knew Nate.
He had a great laugh. I was teasing him about something and we were having a nice talk. And I guess I had my hand on his shoulder—you know, just being friendly—when this skinny, red-haired girl practically bumps me out of the way.
Jamie hurried over and introduced us. She said the girl’s name was Ada Something. I didn’t catch the last name. I’d met Ada at the bar the other night, but we didn’t get to talk.
Sometimes you get a flash about someone. I mean, I don’t really believe in first impressions. But tonight I could see that I probably wasn’t going to like this girl Ada.
Just a hunch.
I went to get a Coke from the cooler, and when I turned around, Ada was all over Nate. I mean, I’m not against Public Displays of Affection, but I think she was making a point here, staking out territory, if you know what I mean.
I was just talking to the guy, after all.
I guess maybe I was too intense, standing there staring at them. Because another girl came over and pulled me aside. She was tall and very pretty in a cold sort of way. She had perfect, creamy skin and long, billowy blond hair.
She said her name was Whitney. And she held on to my arm and started talking about Ada and Nate, in a loud whisper. “Ada had a crush on Nate for years,” she told me. “But he always looked through her like Saran Wrap or something.”
Saran Wrap? Excuse me?
“Anyway, after Candy Shutt died, Nate was totally messed up,” Whitney continued. “I’m not sure why. I mean, he didn’t even like Candy. I guess it was the idea of someone we knew, someone in our class dying like that.
“Anyway, Ada tried hard to get him to snap out of it. And they finally started going out.”
“And now i
t’s a serious thing?” I said, watching the two of them lip-locked on the couch.
Whitney nodded. Her hair fell over her face, and she brushed it away. “Yeah. Ada is really intense about Nate.” She raised her eyes to mine. “I just thought I should warn you. You know.”
“Look, I was just talking to him,” I said. I don’t know why I snapped at her. She just annoyed me. “Are you really trying to tell me I can’t talk to some guy without permission? Tell your friend Ada to chill—okay?”
Whitney let go of my arm and stepped back. She couldn’t hide her shock from her face. She turned bright red. “I . . . was only trying to help.”
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “Please. I’m kinda in a haze or something. I didn’t mean that. It’s been really tough. Losing my mom and . . . having to move to a new place senior year.”
Whitney tugged at two long strands of her hair, studying me. I guess she accepted my apology, because she said, “How are you and Jamie related?”
I raised my eyes and saw Jamie across the living room, dancing with little Danny. I had to sigh. Jamie was always so graceful and athletic, and now she had that bad limp. She used a cane around the house but quickly hid it away if anyone came over.
“My mom and Jamie’s mom were sisters,” I said.
Whitney kept studying me. “So your dad is a Fear?”
I nodded.
“That means Jamie isn’t a Fear?” Whitney asked.
I laughed. “Are you worried about her? Worried it might be catching or something?”
Whitney blushed again.
Why was I being so nasty? Jamie throws a party for me, and what do I do? Make sure all her friends hate me.
But I knew kids were staring at me because I’m related to the Fear family. I’m not a paranoid nut. I don’t think people are staring at me all the time.
But Jamie’s friends were definitely checking me out. And not just because of my short skirt and glittery, tight-fitting midriff top.
As the party went on, I overheard kids talking about the Fear family. And the Curse of Fear Street. Sometimes they’d hush up when they saw me come by. Sometimes they kept right on talking.