Dark Days (The Childe Series, #2) (38 page)

“Yeah, everything’s fine, no worries here,” she replied with a slight smile.

“Alright then, I’ll be off. Oh, and try not to tinker too much with the locket unless it’s a true emergency. The ride is quite intense, never really liked it in the first place, but it is a quick way to get somewhere,” she explained and laughed. “I love you, Cat, please be safe.”

“Love you too, Aunt Ròs, and I will be, don’t worry,” she replied.

“Oh, and one more thing before I go. Please do call on me if you are in trouble. Don’t be afraid to confide in me,” she said with a slight smile and a look of concern.

“Will do.” Ròs winked at Cat and then leapt off the roof, disappearing into the night.
Man, if Robert Craven knew about my life, he’d have another best seller on his hands for sure!
Cat told herself.

 “Cat? Are you going to make the incision? Ugh, I can’t do it,” Hannah moaned, completely disgusted at the sight of the frog stretched out in front of them. Cat looked down at the poor thing lying there motionless, and then glanced over at the scalpel in her hand.

“I don’t think I can do it either,” she replied, gagging at the thought.

“Problem, ladies?” Mr. Pierson asked, approaching their lab table.

“Uh, sir, is all of this really necessary? You know the whole frog massacre thing?” Cat asked with a disgusted look.

“Oh, come now ladies, it’s not that difficult.” Mr. Pierson chuckled as he took the scalpel from Cat’s hand and put it to the chest of the frog. As he began to make the incision both Cat and Hannah put their hands to their mouths trying not to gag. Thankfully the bell rang, and Mr. Pierson placed the scalpel down on the table. “Okay class, we’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow. Please read the chapter in your lab book about frog dissection if you haven’t done so already,” Mr. Pierson said smiling, his dimples adding the final touch.

After swim practice, Cat sat in Mr. Pierson’s classroom, helping him organize his files. “So, I probably shouldn’t be asking a student this, but what do you think of Amaya Phillips?” he asked, sifting through some papers, avoiding eye contact with Cat.

“I love Miss Amaya. She’s amazing,” Cat stated. “Why, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Just curious is all,” he replied with a grin, and then pushed his glasses up off his nose. “By the way, thank you so much for helping me stay organized, I know what kind of stigma can come from being a teacher’s assistant.”

“It’s been cool, plus no one’s really given me a hard time anyway,” Cat replied. “Hey, Mr. Pierson?”

“Yes, Ms. Colvin?”

 “I don’t mean to be rude, but what’s with the pocket protector?”

“Oh this?” Mr. Pierson asked drawing it from his shirt pocket. “Well, it’s kind of my security blanket. Don’t leave home without it.”

“Why?”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say, I had a little pen incident once, and this keeps that from happening ever again.”

“I see.”

“I know, you probably think I'm this super nerd or something,” he began.

“No, not at all. I’ve got a security blanket too, kind of. It’s the book
Red Twilight
by Robert Craven. I’ve read it a million times.”

He laughed. “Oh yeah, he’s that horror writer right? The ever-elusive man.”

“That’s the one,” Cat replied. “So, now back to Miss Amaya.”

“Well, with that said, it’s getting late and you should probably get home. I’m sure you’re tired after practice and looking through files here,” Mr. Pierson rambled, frantically putting some papers into his over the shoulder bag and trying to avoid the subject.

Cat groaned. “Alright then, see you tomorrow for our…dissection.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” he replied with a slight laugh. Watching Cat leave his classroom, Melvin began sifting through more papers.

An hour later, Melvin finished organizing for the night and put the last of his files into his bag. Turning off the lights, he closed the door behind him. The hall was empty and Melvin’s footsteps echoed through the school’s corridors. A loud bang came from behind him. Startled, he spun around and saw one of the janitors coming out of a classroom, picking up his mop that had fallen through the door into the hall.

“Sorry ’bout that, mop’s got a mind of its own,” the janitor called out.

“It’s all right, just gave me a little-” Melvin began to reply and then realized the janitor had put in his earphones. Shaking his head, he turned and made his way to the exit.

Reaching the parking lot, Melvin noticed that his and the janitor’s cars were the only ones left. “Too bad I don’t get paid by the hour,” he joked. Making his way to his car, Melvin drew his keys from his pocket. As he inserted them into the lock, his car alarm went off, causing him to drop his keys into the muddy snow. Groaning, Melvin bent down to pick them up only to find them gone. “Great, just great! They must’ve gone under the car,” he muttered in frustration throwing his bag on the trunk. Getting down on his hands and knees, he peered into the blackness under the vehicle with the annoying sound of the alarm still ringing in his ears. Unzipping his jacket, Melvin drew a penlight from his pocket protector. The light’s beam caused the keys to shimmer and Melvin realized he would need to stretch to reach them.
How did they get so far under the car?

Over the sound of the screeching alarm, Melvin heard a muffled bang as the whole car shook. Springing up, he scanned the surroundings seeing nothing unusual. The streetlamp in the parking lot gave off quite a bit of light, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him from the shadows beyond it. “Get a grip, Melvin, it’s just that stupid alarm driving you nuts. Just get the keys already,” he muttered, getting back down on the ground and shining the penlight under the car. “What the hell?” he asked out loud when the light’s beam failed to reveal the keys. He jumped to his feet confused.
They were just there, where could they have gone?