Crossed Out (19 page)

“Okay, now you’re really starting to annoy me, old man.”

Mark pulled a long knife out of his jacket, the blade cast an eerie silver in the moonlight. The knife flashed through the air. With a wet
Thunk
, it hit the counselor in the chest. He staggered to the ground.

The gross sound brought me back to my senses. What had I been thinking?

“Omigod. Dr. Anthony!”

I rushed to him and tried to block out his groans of pain. Blood pooled around him.

“Get away from him!” Mark lifted his hand and brushed me away. I flew to the back wall, pinned by some invisible cord. Dazed, I watched, unable to do anything.

Grimacing in pain, the counselor crawled to where his bag lay on the ground. The knife protruded from his chest like a silver stake. He reached in and took out this weird looking toy, like some kind of child’s spinning top. He gripped the long wooden handle in one hand. On top of the handle was a bronze box-like container with what looked like some dark oriental characters printed on the sides.

Unless the thing contained some weird hocus pocus stuff, how was an old toy going to help us?

I glanced over at Dylan, who’d freed himself and now hugged the far back wall. He stared at the object in the counselor’s hand with what seemed like fascination.

“Omm Mani Padme Hum,”
Dr. Anthony slurred, blood dripping from his mouth.

“Give me a break.” Mark sneered at the object in the counselor’s hands. “What the hell is that?”

“Omm Mani padme hum.”

Mark laughed. “Come on, you got to be kidding me. Ya think this is some yoga class and you’re a yogi?”

Dr. Anthony ignored him and continued to chant.

“Omm Mani padme hum.”

I didn’t know what the counselor was saying but for some funny reason the chant gave me a sense of peace and....

Determination.

I glared at Mark. How dare he mess with us? I drilled all my anger into him. I concentrated one inch above his baby blue eyes.

I looked again at the object. With each word, Dr. Anthony twirled the handle around. The words on the box blended into one long character. My gaze glued to the little ball that swung around a long string.

“Omm Mani padme....”

Beads of sweat dripped from the counselor’s forehead. But he didn’t miss a beat.

“...hum....”

“Okay, now you’re really pissing me off.” Mark brushed his hand in the direction of the counselor. I watched in horror as Dr. Anthony rose into the air and then fall and hit the ground hard.

Thump.

I screamed.

Then Mark turned to me. His smile deepened.

“Since you’re here, let me show you more of my hobbies.”

“No way. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Mark laughed. “That’s not what you said earlier.”

“Just let us go.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dylan sneaking toward Mark.

I couldn’t believe Mark didn’t sense Dylan. Maybe if I kept talking, he’d get out.

“Don’t you want to be with me?” Mark walked toward me. He leaned against the wall, our faces only inches apart. He lifted an antique-looking cross out of his t-shirt. I felt all my concerns about being there melt.

Wait one frickin’ minute. Angry at the power he still held over me, I turned away. He’d hurt both Dylan and Dr. Anthony. No way was I going to let him take me too.

With every bit of strength I had, I stared back at Mark. I could feel his power pull on me like a humongous vacuum, trying to suck my soul out of my body.

No!
My mind told me to fight and not give in to his charm. But man, it was hard. The urges became harder and harder to resist, especially with him so close. His scent was doing a major number on my hormones. Nothing else mattered.

Nothing.

I found myself nodding. “Yes?”

“I knew you’d understand.” With his fingertip he brushed my cheek. Shivers of pleasure made me tingle. I wanted him to touch me again. “Now we’ll be together, forever. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Not if I can help it,” Dylan growled. He lunged at Mark.

I fell to the ground. Something snapped in my head. A wave of nausea came over me.

“What the hell?” Mark struggled.

Boy, for being hurt Dylan was one strong dude. He grabbed Mark’s necklace and I heard the chain snap.

“No!” Mark staggered away, clutching his neck.

I turned and looked at Dylan, who had Mark’s cross necklace in his hands. “You mess with my friends, you mess with me,” snarled Dylan. “You’re going down big time.”

Chapter 29

“Go for it, surfer dude.” Mark glared at Dylan, malice contorting his face. They faced each other, wounded but ready for one more round.

“Bring it on, you undead jerk.” Dylan beckoned him forward. “I’ve had it with your crap.”

Dylan gripped Mark’s necklace so hard that it broke.

Pop!
The sound echoed in my head. I blinked and saw Mark with new eyes. How could I’ve ever been attracted to him? His whole body looked dingy and old. His eyes flashed with anger. I feared he wanted to add something of mine to his grisly collection.

Dylan tossed the necklace to me, yelling, “Guard it with your life!”

I snatched the chain. “This is what made my mind turn to mush? How did you know?”

“Not hard to figure out. Why not use something sacred and twist it into something foul. That cross gave out really bad vibes.”

“You’re dead, you hear me?” Mark spat out each word with venom. “Dead.”

From the far corner of the room a voice startled me. Beneath an old battered poster of The Cure, Dr. Anthony’s crumpled body was pinned against the wall, a knife lodged in his chest. A line of blood trickled out of his mouth.

“Don’t give in,” he whispered. “Use your gift.”

The counselor’s words startled me. How could he say that after what had happened?

Mark’s face twisted, etched with hatred. “You really think you can stop me?”

With a flick of Mark’s hand, the whole room exploded. White ceramic coffee cups, chairs, and bags of coffee flew straight at Dylan. He ducked but not fast enough. A large whiteboard slammed into his leg.

“Steph, the cross!” Dylan cried out. “Use it!”

“No,” Mark hollered. “She’s mine.” He dove at me, but missed. Falling to the ground, he glared at Dylan with growing hostility.

It hit me. We all could die.

“Now,” Dylan screamed. “Do your job!”

Mark lifted himself off the ground and stared at me. Though he stood in the middle of the flying debris, nothing hit him. It was as if he was in his own protective bubble. This only made me madder.

A smile spread over his face. “Come on, Steph. Just give me your hand. You know you want to be with me.”

“No way, Creep-O-Man.” I was beyond pissed. This guy had put a flipping spell on me. Not only that, but he had hurt the counselor and Dylan too. Somehow I doubted he’d end there.

“Now Steph,” his voice purred. “You know you want me.”

The backs of my legs itched something fierce. I clenched my teeth, fighting the urge to scratch.

From above us, dawn streamed through the window. I couldn’t believe we’d been down here that long.

The light hit Mark’s face. He grimaced and stepped back.

No way. Could it be possible?

Somehow, the light hurt him.

Grabbing the cross from my pocket, I thrust it toward the beam.

As the light reflected from the cross and hit Mark, he wailed an inhuman cry.

A sizzling sound, like cooking hamburger, made me want to hurl.

“Put it down!” Mark shrieked at the top of his lungs. A coffee can flew my way, bounced off my arm. I turned my head, ignoring the pain. I couldn’t let go. Not now.

“Steph,” Dylan yelled, “keep it in the light!”

“No way, bitch!” Mark hollered. “I won’t let you send me back. I won’t.”

I blinked once and when I looked up again, I gasped.

No longer did Mark appear as the
Hipgirl’s
Hunk of the Month. Harsh lines were chiseled on his face. His wavy hair receded, hung straggly over his ears. Everything about him reeked of sliminess.

How could I ever in a bazillion years have thought he was cute?

I glanced at Dylan. Though he was in pain, his eyes blazed at Mark, clearly longing to rip him to shreds.

Then it hit me hard. Dylan cared for me, really cared for me. And this whole time I’d been a royal witch, dissing him, even when he tried to help at the deserted airbase, and then now.

How could I’ve been so stupid? The guy who really cared for me had been there the whole time. I’d just been too blind to see him.

With renewed purpose, I kept the cross up, though my arm felt like it would break off. “This is for Dr. Anthony,” I yelled, “and for kissing me, zombie man. No dead guy kisses me and gets away with it.”

The temperature in the room dropped. It felt like I stumbled into a humongous freezer. The cold burned my forearm, stabbing my skin.

My whole body screamed for me to drop my arm. I fought the urge, praying for the strength to send this creep back to the hole he’d crawled out of.

Mark was disintegrating right in front of me into a semi-transparent, featureless body. I could see through his arms and legs. The horror flicks were so on the mark with this one.

What remained of Mark turned toward Dylan. “You are both nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing!”

“Stephanie!” Dr. Anthony’s broken voice brought me back to my senses. “Don’t listen. Keep … cross up.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” I retorted. “Dylan, you need to help me. Remember Grandma Kate.”

An entry in the old journal that had fallen from my hands back at Dylan’s place flashed through my mind. Somehow it was important. And Dylan knew why.

“Look for the weak spot,” I yelled. “Do it now!”

A weird expression flashed over Dylan’s face. “How did you know—”

“Dylan!” I screamed. “We don’t have time for this.” I moved to avoid another flying chair. “Just do it!”

Dylan nodded and then glared at Mark. I swear I thought the vein on his forehead would explode. He grimaced, obviously concentrating – pushing.

“I don’t think so,” Mark taunted. “Didn’t work the first time, and sure as hell ain’t going to work now.”

Though he boasted, I knew different. With each passing moment, Mark’s body faded more.

“You’re so gone,” Dylan said. “Leave us, now.”

“Yeah, just like your loony grandmother, right?” Mark shot back.

“Keep her out of this!” Dylan yelled. “I won’t let you destroy anyone else! Not the counselor and definitely not Stephanie.”

Mark snarled. “You’re nothing! Just like your pathetic grandmother.”

I watched the whole interaction, afraid to move. Mark’s words freaked me out. A prickling sensation filled my body. My gosh, he
was
some kind of demon. But even worse than that, I’d kissed it!

Dylan’s face grew redder as he stared intently at Mark.

I held my breath, praying for a miracle – anything to get us out of here.

Dylan staggered back against the wall and slid down. A large board advertising the special coffee of the week crashed down, barely missing him.

“Dylan!” I forgot my fears and started to move. But a loud banging sound almost knocked me on my rear.

Holding onto the wall with one hand, I managed to keep the cross up. Then a flash blinded me. I looked back up and saw white light bursting out of Mark’s chest; the rays were so intense it felt like mid-day.

“No! You can’t take the girls!” Mark screamed. “You can’t!”

Spirits appeared within the light. Not one or two but many – mostly girls or young women, confused and alone, and very gross. Their semi-transparent bodies couldn’t hide the gruesome ways they died. Some had heads that were either half-blown off or scrunched in so their eyes were pushed too close together. A few more were missing legs, arms, or other parts of their bodies.

One looked my way. She was younger than the others. Her whole body glowed, along with her bikini top and cut-off Levis. She hadn’t changed in the three years since her murder by the pervert who used to live down the street.

“Allison!” I was so surprised to see her, I forgot about the silver cross. My hand dropped slightly.

Too late I realized my mistake. Mark lifted himself off the cluttered ground. His chest puffed out. Gaining strength once more.

Glaring at Allison, he snarled. “I won’t let you take them! I won’t.”

“You have no say in the matter.” Allison’s lips were pressed together in a tight line. “Just because your fiancée didn’t come for you from the other side, doesn’t mean the rest of us will stay with you. She’s waiting for you. Why don’t you realize you’re dead too.”

“No!!!” Mark slammed his fist into the wall and stared in shock as his hand went right through the drywall.

The spirits rushed toward me. As gossamer light, their forms circled the room like some scene from Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion. “Help us. Help us....” Their cries pierced the air.

I recognized the woman I’d seen in Hillary’s bathroom mirror and also the young girl Mark and I had ‘rescued.’ I felt a renewed purpose and strength in their presence. But one important thing was missing.

“Dylan!” I screamed, “What do I do?”

“Toward the window,” he yelled. “By the window. That’s where it happened.”

What happened?
Omigod. He didn’t mean....

“Now, Steph!” Dylan staggered back. “It’s too hard. Can’t take it. The lights....”

I stumbled toward the window, ducking to avoid the flying debris. Each moan from Dylan tore at me. I wanted to go back but knew I had to do this.

With all my strength, I slammed the cross into the window. The glass shattered into a million pieces, flying everywhere.

I waited for something to take Mark and end this nightmare.

But nothing happened.

“You really thought that would work?” Mark snickered. “Nothing can take me. Nothing. Not you—” he pointed to Dylan in the corner “or your wannabe boyfriend.”

He stepped toward me. “But I can add you to the others. Or maybe, I can use you for something else.”

My heart missed a beat. Crap. No way would I join the others. Not if I could help it.