The Gathering Darkness Page 5

  “Everyone sees it,” she corrected me.

  “I really hadn’t noticed,” I said, bewildered. I turned and started walking again, but slower. I would have to pay more attention. Now, I was even more nervous about the night ahead.

  “It’s a no-brainer to see you like him too,” she said, pointing a playful finger at me.

  I stopped again, just before crossing the street to get to the gazebo. Now Robyn sat on the railing, gabbing on her cell phone, her legs swinging over the side, while Megan sat on the steps, one leg crossed over the other, looking at her nails as if to keep from getting bored.

  “Sammy,” I whispered loudly, “we hardly even talk to each other.”

  “But you were alone with him in the attic!”

  My voice rose out of frustration. “Yes, because his arms were filled with paint cans and stuff. I offered to help him. That’s it!”

  “So, you don’t like Marcus?” She looked at me with her eyebrows raised and a smirk on her face.

  I calmed myself. “I didn’t say that, but—”

  Her face lit up. “See. I’m right. You do like him.”

  “Ugh!” I threw my hands up in the air. “I give up.”

  Sammy beamed in triumph.

  Eventually, we made it across the street to the gazebo. As usual Robyn was friendly to me, and as usual Megan wasn’t, but I could play that game too. I ignored her.

  Together, the four of us walked across the short bridge that connected the mainland to the Peninsula where Evan and Marcus lived with their parents. The Peninsula was the most upper class part of the village. Big seaside homes sat amongst tall spruce trees–each with its own wharf. It was to one of these wharves we headed.

  Two cruisers were tied to the end of the wharf, rocking gently on the waves. As planned, Marcus and Evan were on one of the boats waiting for us. The other boat was crowded with people who I vaguely knew from school—mostly guys from the soccer team and a few girls. Everyone was friendly, though, and seemed happy to see me.

  We climbed down the wharf’s ladder to the deck of the boat. Megan pushed past me and sat next to Marcus who operated the boat. She threw her tanned legs up on the side and chattered continuously about mundane stuff. Marcus didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her, or me either for that matter. Sammy had to be wrong. And this bothered me.

  The boat’s motor hummed smoothly as we pulled away from the wharf and began the half-hour cruise to the Island. A few minutes into the ride, I noticed a crow circling above the boat. It stayed with us the entire way. If anyone else had noticed, they didn’t seem to care. What should have been the prospect of a fun night, felt wrong.

  As we pulled up alongside of the Island wharf, I could see another boatload of people were already there. A large camp fire blazed on the shore, some tents were set up in the sand, and music blared from a portable stereo.

  Marcus, carrying a large cooler, walked past without looking at me. Megan followed him, carrying nothing but her heels. I helped carry a cooler and some blankets from the boat to the beach and then crashed on a blanket with Robyn. Immediately, Evan was at my side handing Robyn and me a beer each. At least there were no cops out here to catch us drinking.

  Sammy went off on the prospect of landing a new boyfriend—a cute guy named Justin who was on the school soccer team. Evan sat on one corner of our blanket and talked about soccer, his car, and his new workout routine.

  As I listened to Evan boast, my anxiety about the Inn and Maggie subsided. I even began to have fun. Everyone was nice to me, with the exception of Megan, and I could handle that. A bunch of girls had gathered on the blanket with us and kept me busy talking about life in Boston. It shut Evan up, and I was happy being the center of attention for once.

  Megan however, did not look happy, so to compensate for the lack of attention from the Knight boys, she flirted. She started with Justin, who brushed her off and then moved to any guy who wasn’t with a girl. Lastly, she sat next to Marcus on an old weathered log near the fire. I kept my eye on her from a distance, or maybe I was keeping my eye on them, but wouldn’t admit it to myself.

  In the middle of some juicy gossip Robyn was spreading about another girl at school, Evan, who had left us sometime before, came back and stood on the blanket, towering over us. He held out his hand to me. I was reluctant to take it.

  “Come on, Brooke. Let’s go sit by the fire.”

  All eyes were on me now. Ugh, what could I do without hurting his feelings? So I reached my hand out and let him pull me up, but that wasn’t the end of the hand-holding. He didn’t let go until we came to the fire, where he offered me a fold-out beach-chair next to his. We sat at opposite ends of the fire from where Marcus and Megan sat.

  Evan handed me another beer. An unsettled feeling stirred inside me. I wondered if he thought we were a couple.

  Through the flames, I watched Megan grab Marcus’ arm and cuddle up to him. He didn’t cuddle back, but he didn’t cringe away either. Megan tilted her face up to his ear. He leaned his head toward her. Whatever she whispered to him, made his body shake with laughter. She shared his beer. Jealousy burst inside me. Then Evan did something that made me totally uncomfortable.

  Our chairs were close together. He reached over and played with an end of my hair. Eventually his hand found its way to the back of my neck. I wanted to cringe away. Not that it didn’t feel good; on the contrary, it felt awesome and made me want to lean toward his touch, but not in front of Marcus.

  I looked through the flames again until I saw Marcus. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. His expression was dark, and he was glaring at me.

  For a moment I felt as if only the two of us and the fire between us existed. The nervous, scared butterflies inside me kept me from breathing. I lowered my gaze to the chunks of burning wood and took a deep breath, chasing them away. When I looked up again, he shrugged Megan off his arm, got up and walked away. Megan looked after him, pouting. I turned my head to see where he was going. Then a warm hand was massaging my neck, breaking my concentration. I turned my gaze back to the flames. The hand subtly reached down my back and pulled me closer. My only thought was that I wanted out of this situation. I felt a nudge to my other arm. I looked over to see Sammy grinning sinfully down at me. I nudged her back, harder, more of a jab.

  “Ow!” she protested with a fake hurt look on her face. She bent forward and whispered in my ear. “I just came to see if you had to go.” Her head bobbed strangely to one side.

  I looked at her just as strangely. “Go where?”

  “You know, go.” Her eyes rolled toward the woods.

  “Oh!” I actually did have to go, but wasn’t looking forward to the nature part of the task. “Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

  I looked at Evan. It seemed as though I couldn’t stand up now without offering him an explanation as to where I was going. I sighed to my pathetic self. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  His voice was uncharacteristically soft, his blue eyes dreamy—probably the same look he gave all the girls he seduced. He gave the back of my neck a little squeeze before I got up, sending an unexpected tingle down my spine. How did he do that? This was getting way out of control, and the sad part was I didn’t dislike it. How pathetic of me to allow myself to be next on his list.

  As Sammy and I walked toward the woods, I looked back and spotted Marcus on the wharf talking to some guys, although his face was turned toward me.

  “Saaaaammy,” Robyn called from down on the beach. We stopped in our tracks. She staggered toward the water, throwing her clothes off.

  “You’d better go and stop her before she drowns. I’ll be okay,” I assured Sammy.

  “You sure?”

  “Uh huh. Go. Hurry.”

  “I think she’s drunk,” Sammy yelled back as she ran toward the beach.

  I turned away from her, and in the gathering darkness, I entered the woods alone, on Skull Island.

  Chapter Seven

  I wandered far enough into the woods for no sounds from the beach to reach me. No people hooting and hollering, not even the loud music from the radio could be heard. I figured that way I would be far enough away for some privacy.

  Except for the forest sounds, all else was silent.

  So when a stick snapped beneath my foot, echoing eerily through the trees, I jumped—and so did my heart. The sharp caw of a lone crow that followed, somewhere above the tree tops, sent chills down my spine. I lifted my eyes, but could see nothing through the thick canopy of twisted branches but a few specks of darkening sky.

  With a sense of urgency, I did what I had to do and headed back—at least, I thought I was headed back. It didn’t take me long to realize I’d been walking too long and should have been back already.

  I was lost. Panic set in. I was on an island for crying out loud. Didn’t it have to end somewhere? I resisted the urge to yell out. If I could make it to the shore, I could find my way around and back to my friends. I would be embarrassed of course, and with being the new girl and trying to fit in, my image was fragile. I didn’t want to shatter what I’d spent a week building up.

  It had been a good half-hour since I’d left the warmth of the camp fire behind. My cell phone was on the blanket back at the beach, and I hadn’t thought to ask someone for a flashlight.

  The fear of being alone in the forest after dark quickened my pace, making me stumble over a tree root. I fell, ripping my new jeans and cutting my knee. I wanted to curl up and cry, but refused to allow myself that luxury—and also, I didn’t want my mascara to run. I picked myself up off of the moss-covered ground and continued onward.

  “Okay, Brooke, this is ridiculous.”

  I tried talking out loud to calm myself, but my voice in the quiet stillness of the dim forest sounded eerie to me, so I refrained from speaking again. There were no signs of wild life now; even the crow had left me.

  I had a fleeting thought that maybe I should stay put; someone had to be looking for me by now. Anxiety won over my reasoning and I keep moving.

  A new panic set in as the darkness gathered in around me. I hurried my pace, almost to a run, not watching where I walked. My foot landed on something soft—too soft. Before I could get my other foot in front of me, I was falling. I screamed as I fell. With a loud thud I hit bottom. Everything went silent, even my breathing.

  Momentarily stunned, I sat in the new darkness, unmoving until pain in my ankle brought me back to reality. I must have twisted it when I hit bottom, but bottom of what?

  “Ow.” My voice reverberated back to me, joining the sound of my accelerated heartbeat. I propped myself up on my hands and pulled my injured leg out from the awkward position it was in, straightening it out in front of me. Something sharp dug into the back of my other leg. I reached under and pulled out what felt like a stick and tossed it away from me. It made a hollow sound as it hit the ground. Where was I? I had stepped on something soft and had fallen. With wide eyes, I looked up and sucked in a sharp breath.

  Oh no! It wasn’t a bad dream. The undeniable pain in my ankle was a clear reminder of the fact that I was awake. I looked at the dim circle of light high above me. It was a long way up. No light found its way down here—in the dark—where I was—alone.

  I found my voice and yelled for help. Over and over again I yelled out. Pride didn’t matter anymore. I yelled despite the ache in my dry throat. I yelled until my voice cracked, and then I sobbed.

  “This can’t be happening.” My sobs became whimpers. “Ow.” The pain in my ankle came in throbs now. I sat on the cold, damp ground with my arms wrapped around myself, rocking back and forth, staring into the blackness, terrified and alone. “Help,” I whimpered one last desperate time, but not loud enough to do any good.

  As I sat there, the darkness seemed to come alive. My eyes grew wider and wider. Blinking became an effort. The new silence became so deafening; I was scared to yell out again.

  A low throaty rattle broke the silence. In the middle of the circle, against the midnight blue of the evening sky, the shape of a large bird sat amidst a tangle of tree branches. Its sharp caw echoed in the tunnel-like space that surrounded me. A familiar sound I remembered from Aunt Rachel’s front yard the day I’d moved to Deadwich. I snapped my head down and stared straight ahead again.

  Unpleasant warmth seeped under my skin. I blinked away the trickle of perspiration that ran down my forehead and into my eyes, stinging them, but I didn’t move. My body was on lock-down now, as it always was in the face of my worst fear—the dark. I felt it close in around me, become thick and heavy. Breathing became an effort. I was too terrified to move a muscle for fear the darkness would see me. Like holding your breath, waiting for a cold wave to crash over you, I held mine waiting for the darkness to claim me.

  Just when I thought I would go insane and be swallowed whole, a distant sound brought me hope. With my ear tipped upward, I held my breath and listened keenly.

  “Brooooooke … .”

  I sucked in a sharp breath and yelled back. “Here. I’m down here. Help!” I didn’t know or care who it was, they were calling my name, and it filled me with hope.

  “Brooke, I hear you. Where are you?”

  “I’m in a hole. Down here.” A rush of adrenaline pumped through me. With my good leg, I pushed myself into a standing position.

  “Brooke, I’m here. I’ll get you out.”

  I recognized the voice. Of all people, why did it have to be him? My heart thumped at a new level as Marcus’ dark silhouette peered over the edge of the hole.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Just my ankle, I think it’s sprained.”

  “It looks like you’re in an old abandoned well shaft.”

  For the first time since falling, I looked at my surroundings. Sometime during my anguish, unbeknownst to me, my eyes had adjusted to the dark. I could vaguely make out now that I was in a round hole, lined with moss-covered rocks.

  “Brooke, I have to go for help.”

  “No!” I blurted. “Don’t leave me here.”

  Marcus hesitated. “I need a rope. There’s one on the boat.”

  “It’s too dark.”

  “Okay, I won’t leave. I’m just going to look around the well for something. Hang on.”

  I stood in the middle of the well, gnawing on my bottom lip, my hands clutched against my chest, afraid he wouldn’t come back.

  “I promise I won’t leave sight of the well,” he yelled out, his voice now an uncomfortable distance away.

  I nodded nervously, not thinking he couldn’t see me.

  An immeasurable amount of time passed as I stood there, too frightened to move again. Then the sound of Marcus’ voice filled me with relief.

  “I found a fallen tree. I’m going to lower it down. It’s heavy, so watch out.”

  With my eyes glued to his silhouette, I hobbled backwards until my back hit the damp rocks that made up the wall of the well.

  With many grunts and some colorful words, Marcus managed to lower the tree into the well. Some of its limbs broke off, crashing around my feet, but the main part of the tree stayed whole. As he climbed down, I worried the dead wood would break under his weight and he would come crashing down, but it held.

  Once his feet hit the ground beside me, I didn’t care who he was anymore; I flung my arms around his neck and held on tightly. After a brief hesitation, I felt his hands on my waist. My eyes closed, and I pressed my face into the softness of his flannel shirt, allowing myself a moment to bask in the security of his arms.

  Why did being in Marcus’ arms feel so right? Not so long ago, I was on the verge of making out with his brother. Reluctantly, I tore myself out of our embrace and took a step backwards.

  “Thanks,” I said, suddenly shy and embarrassed. I tried not to put any weight on my injured ankle and ended up stumbling back into his arms again as he caught me from falling.

  Marcus helped lower me into a sitting position. “Is it just your ankle? Did you hurt anything else?”

  I shook my head. Just my pride, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

  Marcus surprised me by pulling a folded piece of newspaper out of his shirt pocket and a lighter from another pocket. I sat quietly amazed as he ripped the paper into shreds, gathered some sticks that had broken off the tree on its way down into the well, and made a small fire.

  “Wow, I can’t believe you just happen to have a fire-starting kit on you.”

  His mouth turned up at the corners, into the promise of a smile. It reminded me of the way he’d looked at me on the bus earlier.

  “If I’d really been thinking, I would have brought a flashlight.”

  I let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  The glow from the small fire flickered across one half of his face, leaving the other half shadowed. I couldn’t help but stare at him as he busied himself with building a stick pyramid over the weak flame. He tilted his face toward me. I stared at the light dancing in his dark pupils, and a strange feeling came over me. A vision formed in the space between us.

  A young girl with flowers in her hair and clothed in a long, frilly dress, flitted happily in and out of the trees. A handsome young man chased her playfully. Their laughter filled the air. Then without warning, the vision turned to one of horror. Out of nowhere, someone grabbed the girl and boy and dragged them through the woods. Screams replaced laughter. Their fading cries of despair tore at my heart.

  Another voice in the distance pulled me out of the trance. There was a light pressure on my shoulders. Someone was shaking me. My eyes focused on Marcus. He stared at me. I blinked.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked.

  My mouth hung open in shock. I snapped it shut and swallowed. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “What just happened?” His hands lingered on my shoulders as if he didn’t want to let go. Their weight warmed my skin.

  “I-I don’t know.” I lied. “I must have blacked out.”

  “Maybe you hit your head when you fell.”