Dark Moon (Nightmare Hall) (13 page)

She remembered nothing after that. She didn’t remember Garth finding her or being carried back to the dorm room or Andie’s removing her wet clothes.

But she remembered, too well, the terror of being on that ride and the desperate need to get away from it.

“I need to sleep,” she said, and rolled over on her side. She was asleep in seconds.

The next morning, Garth called to make sure Eve was okay. She had only one question for him. “Did you see anyone?” she asked anxiously, ignoring her throbbing headache and the agonizing pain in both shoulders, the aching bruises on her arms and legs. The sun streaming in through the window hurt her eyes. “When you found me, was anyone else there?”

“Nope. Only you. Why?”

“Because I didn’t jump from that car for exercise,” Eve snapped. “I
told
you, I heard that voice again. The same one I heard in the Mirror Maze. It was after me. It called me by name. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?”

“Not a thing. But it was raining like crazy, Eve. I almost didn’t see
you,
and I was
looking
for you. I wasn’t looking for anyone else.” Garth paused, then added, “I saw Alfred and Serena, but that was later, after I brought you back. I went downstairs to get hot coffee for Andie and me, and Alfred was at the vending machine. Serena was right behind him. They looked like drowned rats.”

“Did you tell them what happened?”

“No. Wasn’t sure you’d want me to.”

“Serena lives at Nightmare Hall. I wonder what she was doing on campus so late.”

“Said she’d been hitting the books at the library. Studying for finals. And good old Alfred wanted to know what
I
was doing in your building.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said we were studying, together. He didn’t like it, gave me one of those looks. Are you going to tell them what happened? Shouldn’t they know? Seems to me everyone you know should be on the alert. Keeping an eye out. Unless you’re planning on closing down the festivities now.”

Close down the Founders’ Day celebration? Now? Wouldn’t that be a huge relief? Like having a ten-ton boulder lifted off the back of her neck. Everything horrible that had happened this week had to be connected to the celebration, although Eve couldn’t think of a single reason why that would be true. If the carnival ended, would the other stuff end, too? Would she be safe, then? Would they all be safe?

“No,” she said firmly, in spite of her aches and pains and the leftover terror still chilling her spine, “we’re not closing down.”

“No?” He sounded surprised, but he didn’t argue, and shortly afterward, they hung up.

Eve thought about calling the police. But she had no proof. Nothing at all. Her pursuer wasn’t stupid. There wouldn’t be any fingerprints on The Snake’s operating lever. And the rain would have washed away any footprints. She had nothing.

But she
would
be more careful from now on.

If she only knew
why
… maybe that would help. The gibberish the voice had spouted, about the moon and some stupid “power,” provided no information at all. Only someone totally insane would do the things he was doing, and rant and rave about weird, impossible things.

Dealing with someone who was out of his mind was a lot scarier than dealing with someone simply angry, for whatever reason, about the Founders’ Day festivities.

Why hadn’t he killed her last night when she was lying unconscious in that puddle? What had stopped him? Maybe Garth had come along too soon and spoiled everything by finding Eve first.

It took Eve a long time in parapsychology class to work up enough nerve to ask the question that was making her crazy. She knew everyone would stare when she opened her mouth. She’d made her scorn for the paranormal obvious from the very first day of class. Now they’d think she’d converted, that she was becoming a believer.

Never. But she
had
to ask this question.

“Dr. Litton,” she said, clenching her fist around a pencil, keeping her voice clear and steady, “
can
the full moon make people do things they wouldn’t normally do?”

Heads swiveled and there were suddenly so many eyes on Eve, she felt like an exhibit at the zoo. Andie’s mouth had fallen open, and Eve saw Alfred and Serena exchange a glance of total disbelief.

Eve felt the blood rush to her face. For pete’s sake, she hadn’t asked if there really was a man in the moon.

The professor seemed to take the question seriously. “I think the answer to that, Ms. Forsythe, is that if someone
believed
the moon at its fullest was affecting his or her behavior, truly believed it, then yes, the behavior would undoubtedly change. Literature is filled with references to such behavior, as we’ve already discussed in here.”

Eve was pleased with Dr. Litton’s answer. And before anyone could argue with it, the bell rang. Eve put her notebook into her backpack, as people grabbed their books and jumped up, heading for the door.

Eve slid her feet back inside her black flats and would have stood up, too. But just then her fingers closed around something inside the backpack that shouldn’t have been there. Something
she
hadn’t put there. In fact, something that she had tossed into the wastebasket because she couldn’t bear the sight of it.

The room emptied quickly, but still Eve sat, her eyes staring straight ahead as her hand pulled from the backpack the hardcover copy of
Moonchild.

She knew that’s what it was, although she didn’t look down at first. She didn’t want to look down. She could tell by the feel of it, by the shape of it, and by the feeling deep inside her stomach.

She
wouldn’t
look down. She would simply stand up, walk to the huge gray metal trash can beside Dr. Litton’s desk, toss the book in, and leave the room. One, two, three, easy as pie. No problem.

She looked down.

The book sat in her lap, cover up. The moon was there, visible from the child’s hospital room. The shadow was still painted across the upper half, and the lower half was still red with “blood.”

But now there was more. The vicious artist had drawn a “mouth” on the moon. Not a smiley mouth. Definitely not a smiley mouth, Eve thought, sickened, her eyes fixated on the crude, horrifying drawing.

Instead of a pleasant smile on the moon, there was a wide, maniacal grin filled with pointed, razor-sharp teeth.

T
HE NEXT THING EVE
knew, she was lying on the floor, staring up at Serena and Dr. Litton.

“Should we call a doctor?” the professor asked.

“You fainted,” Serena told Eve. There was awe in her voice.

“I know, I know,” Eve said, sitting up and leaning against the professor’s desk, “I’m not the type. Should have eaten more than a bagel, I guess.” She didn’t want them to know about the book, but they’d probably already seen it. How was she going to explain it?

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Dr. Litton asked. “You were only out for a second, but people don’t faint without a reason.”

Oh, I had a reason, Eve thought darkly. She glanced around her, looking for the book. It had probably fallen to the floor when she slid out of her seat. “There was a book …” she began, but Serena interrupted her.

“That horrible thing? I saw it. It was disgusting. Is that why you passed out? I tossed it down the incinerator chute. I didn’t want you seeing it when you woke up. I hope that’s okay. I mean, you didn’t
want
it, did you, Eve?”

Dr. Litton nodded. “I saw it, too. Who drew on the cover?”

“I don’t know,” Eve said.

“I would suggest that you go back to your room and take the morning off,” Dr. Litton said, helping Eve up. “You’ve got a nasty bruise on your forehead. Did that happen just now?”

Eve almost laughed. Which disaster was the bruise from? It was hard to keep track these days. “No,” was all she said.

Serena went with her to Lester. On the way, she said, “I don’t blame you for folding like an accordion. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be.” Eve was trying to think when that book might have been placed in her backpack. The only time she remembered putting the pack down was when she had grabbed a quick cup of coffee and a bagel that morning before class. She’d left the backpack on her chair when she went to get sugar. But she’d only been gone a second. And she hadn’t noticed anyone skulking around her chair.

What scared her the most was the realization that the sick “artist” who had thrust that book into her backpack had been
close
to her. And she hadn’t even known it.

Andie wasn’t in the room when they went inside.

“You’re going to stay here, right?” Serena asked anxiously. “I mean, if I leave, you’re not going to get up and go to classes, are you? You need to rest.”

When Eve sat down on the bed, a wave of dizziness so strong it blurred her vision slapped at her. She swayed precariously. Serena reached over and gently helped her lie down.

“You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed this morning. Andie told me what happened last night. I have a mythology class, but I’ve already read all of the material, so I can stay if you want. I hate leaving you here all alone.”

“I’m just going to sleep, Serena. Go ahead and go. I can’t sleep with someone staring at me, anyway. But I’ll be at the carnival grounds at two, for sure.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go over there, Eve. Kevin’s being sprung this morning. Didn’t anyone tell you? He’s fine, and he’ll be there. You’ve been doing double-duty long enough. Let him take over now.”

Eve sighed with relief. Kevin was back. She wasn’t alone anymore. The truth was, it felt wonderful to lie down and close her eyes. Shut everything out. She would burrow deep beneath the blankets and pretend that she was safe.

“Okay, I’ll stay here,” she said meekly, rolling over on her side. Serena pulled the bedspread over her. “For a little while. I guess I
am
tired.”

Serena closed the door quietly when she left.

Eve concentrated on shutting out the horrible image of bloody moon fangs, and fell asleep.

When she awoke, the clock on her bedside table said two-twenty. Eve couldn’t believe it. She had slept for over three hours! The carnival had already opened, and here she was, lying in bed like a sloth. Nell would have a screaming fit if she knew her responsible, levelheaded daughter was sleeping off her duties like some garden slug.

Then she remembered that Kevin was back, and she sagged back against the pillow. She didn’t have to get up. She didn’t have to do anything. Kevin could do it all. Serena was right, she
had
been doing “double-duty” while Kevin’s ribs were healing. It was his turn.

But … Eve struggled to force her mind fully awake … weren’t there other things she needed to attend to? Kevin could handle things at the carnival site. But he couldn’t find out why that book had been in her backpack or why Boomer had been shot with that dart or who had put that burr under the horse’s saddle, starting the whole, nasty business.

Neither can I, she thought as she sat up gingerly, waiting for another wave of dizziness. It didn’t come, and she swung her feet to the floor. I’m no detective. The police are supposed to be looking for the person who put a hole in Boomer’s chest.

But there was something she could do. She could go see Boomer herself. Ask him straight out, if he had seen anything. Seen
anyone.
If he had seen who threw the dart, that made him an eyewitness. An eyewitness was even better than fingerprints, wasn’t it?

You’re not being very realistic, she told herself as she changed out of her wrinkled clothes into clean cutoffs and a red tank top. Where’s that marvelous logic people keep talking about? The police must have asked Boomer what he’d seen. If he’d given them a name, the guilty party would have been arrested by now.

Clinging to a faint hope that the police simply hadn’t had time yet to talk to Boomer, Eve left the dorm and climbed on the little yellow shuttle bus into town. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had to do
something,
and that she had to do it
fast.
Someone had been in her room. Someone had grabbed that book out of the wastebasket, and that same someone had then slid it into her backpack. Knowing that made her palms sweaty and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. So close … he had been so
close.
And she hadn’t even known it!

Talking to Boomer, even if the conversation was futile, was better than lying in bed terrified, with her heart threatening to pound its way right out of her chest.

The nurse on the fourth floor at the Twin Falls Medical Center gave her a hard time. “He’s still in serious condition. If you’re not a relative …”

“I’m his cousin,” Eve said quickly. Ignoring the skeptical eyebrow lifting toward the nurse’s cap, she added, “We’re very close. That’s why we decided to go to the same college.”

“Funny,” the nurse said drily, “his parents have been here for two days and they never mentioned a cousin.” But she relented, and waved Eve toward Boomer’s room.

Boomer’s face was waxy white, his eyes still puzzled because he had no idea how someone as big and healthy as he was could have ended up flat on his back in a hospital bed. He was so glad to have company that Eve didn’t have the heart to ask him any questions about the dart. She made lively conversation until it was time for her to leave. Finally she had to say as matter-of-factly as she could, “Boomer, I was just wondering if you saw who threw that dart at you. I mean, you were facing the crowd. I figured you might have seen an arm raised or something.”

“Just Tony’s arm,” was his disappointing answer. “I was pretty much keeping my eyes on Tony. He’d already hit the apple with every dart he’d thrown, so I was trying to figure out a way to maybe duck or something, move a little bit to one side just so the last dart would miss. Take him down a peg or two. But then I decided that wouldn’t be fair, so I stood still.”

Eve was crushed. Boomer had been her only hope. “You didn’t see anything? Someone watching you from the crowd, looking like they were waving?” They hadn’t been waving, of course. They’d been aiming. But she didn’t want to say that.