Fatal (5 page)

It was no wonder everyone wanted to go to California. It seemed all the color was there.

The driver stood outside the large white van marked "
Hazelglen Service" on the side. He gave me a smile and a nod when I looked at him. I handed him my ticket.

The van looked a lot like the one that took mom away.

"I'll help you with those!" the driver said. He wore a navy blue uniform and a had a neatly-trimmed grey mustache.

Before I could say anything, he had my bags all stowed. I wanted to hang onto my backpack. It had all the
correspondence from Redeemer, the map of the campus, the schedule for my first day. All I needed was to lose that stuff.

We waited about fifteen more minutes. Since he stood outside, I figured that's what I should do, too. In that time, I found myself longing to go back into the air conditioned airport lobby.

Cars and buses drove back and forth along the road by the entrance, picking up and dropping off. A beat cop hassled anyone who stayed in their spot for more than a minute. He looked angry. Though I couldn't blame him. In that black uniform, he had to be boiling.

The only spot safe from his wrath
appeared to be the shuttle terminal. There were a few other vans, and a few actual buses, waiting there, all bound for different places around the state.

I watched all the people getting on them with envy. They all seemed to know where they were going, or had some sort of purpose.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me, girlie," the driver said, breaking me from my thoughts.

He opened the back door for me so I could climb in. I grabbed the middle seat so that I could see out through the front. My back complained as I settled in. Normally, I never did so much sitting.

It was almost as hot inside as out, and there was no breeze. It felt like I could stir the air like a bowl of tomato soup.

That all changed when the driver sat down on his bucket seat and cranked the engine. The vehicle hummed to life, and I realized how much I loved traveling across the land. It had a definite, tactile feel to it.

I could have kissed him when the vent over my row of seats spewed cold, dry air down on me. I shivered as goosebumps crawled up and down the back of my hands and arms.

"
Gonna be a couple hours," he said, adjusting the rear view mirror to look at me, "You gotta pee, do it now. Or else."

"Or else what?"
I said, more bemused than worried. The way his eyes smiled at me in the mirror told me it wasn't a serious threat.

"Ah! You got me. I'll be making a pit stop or two. Just let me know if you want anything."

"Got it," I said, leaning my head back against the rest on the top of my seat. Yes, much more lower back support in this van than on that plane.

The driver turned on the radio to a country station. I hated country, normally. But right then, the
twangy guitar and the wailing about life's troubles actually touched me.

I settled in for the long ride.

We pulled out of Gen. Edward Lawrence Logan International Airport, getting on the freeway to bypass Boston. What a name for an airport, I thought. Too long.

I got an okay look at the city as we went across overpasses or particularly large hills. It was different from LA and Pasadena.
Smaller, for one.

But a much larger variety in architecture.
The skyline had skyscrapers, sure, but there were plenty of old developments, proud old buildings.

And Boston was old.
Founded sometime in the early 17th Century. I knew I'd have to learn exact dates, if I wanted to study history.

That's what I g
ot accepted for, anyway.

I could understand history. It was about what happened in the past, exploring your origins, all the events that have lead up to your current state of being.

Mostly I just remembered all the witch hunts and burnings and other Puritanical nonsense the pilgrims were so into.

Though, as we slipped away from the city, onto the winding roads leading through deep, green forests, I could see why the first settlers thought there was magic in this place.

"Freshman?" the driver said.

We hadn't spoken for the last hour. I'd let myself get lost in the scenery, the little towns we passed through. It was a beautiful place.
Very green. Alive.

"Hmm?"
I said, half asleep and daydreaming about witches and warlocks and vampires and all those things the people who settled this land must have feared.

"When I was loading your luggage, I saw an envelope with the Redeemer coat of arms. And you don't sound like you're from around here."

"Yeah, I'm just starting there. Majoring in history, I think. You must know the town pretty well," I said. I stretched my arms over my head, wincing as my taut muscles relaxed. My right foot had also gone to sleep, and I wiggled my toes in my shoe, frowning at the prickle of returning blood.

The driver drummed out
an tuneless beat on the shiny black steering wheel as he nodded at the road.

"Well, I've been driving this route for years now. I hear Redeemer's a good school.
Hazelglen's almost as old as Boston."

"And you hear good things about it?" I said.

My stomach growled. My body thought that I'd skipped lunch. And I had. At this pace, I was also well on the way to skipping supper. Or at least having it far too late.

"Place that old? I hear plenty. You know the stories about the town?"

"You mean the witches?" I said.

"
Witches, and other things. But they're all old stories. The town's been dragged into the twenty first century with the rest of the state. But still... what a history!" he said, checking his mirrors as he turned off onto another road.

Well, that was good, I thought. The town had a lot of history, and maybe even a few secrets. We had something in common, then.

A twisting road led into the town. A high canopy of trees almost completely covered it for the last mile or so, making it so dark that the driver flicked on his headlights. Only a scraggy line of sky was visible at the very top. It was a deep blue, getting ready to shift into the bruised purple that preceded nightfall.

A tall sign angled alongside the road announced "Welcome to
Hazelglen," in arched pearl letters over an image of an old-timey town, a massive white church dominating the image. Curiously, there was no population listed.

We rounded another bend which let onto the town. It was nestled in a deep valley, many of the buildings sprawling onto the hillside. A few of the streets were already lit by their lamps, despite the sun being a couple hours away from setting.

"There's the college," the driver said as we started our descent.

He appeared to be motioning towards a large, square building poking out through
a lot of trees at the other side of the valley. How big was the campus, anyway? A knot formed in my stomach, getting rid of my appetite and replacing it with nerves.

"Where do you drop people off?" I said, eying those dark streets.

At that moment, I really had no desire to find my way through an unfamiliar town. Though, I also had the feeling that no matter where I was in Hazelglen, I'd always be able to see that big building in the distance.

"Oh, normally I just tell you the best place to jump out. Just don't forget to roll when you hit."

I gave him the best evil eye that I could muster, all the while forcing my cheeks and lips into what I hoped was a neutral expression. He glanced at me in the mirror, then snorted.

I couldn't help the chuckle that came burbling up my throat.

"Don't worry; I'll drop you off right in front of the student center. They have a bit of a bus loop there, anyway, so it's no big deal."

"Thanks," I said.

"Don't worry about it. Worrying about it just makes you look old, like me!"

T
he corners of my mouth rebelled against my demand for stillness, perking up in a small smile.

We made a right onto the main campus drive. Under all those trees were many more buildings. People my own age wandered around, wearing backpacks or carrying messenger bags. I gripped the seat tightly and crossed my ankles.

It really had been a year since I'd done any serious time with people in my age group. All those old high school anxieties found their way into the forefront of my thoughts again.

Was I pretty enough? Would anyone want to be my friend? What if no one likes me? What if I show up to class one rushed morning in my pajamas?

Absurd, I know. But that didn't make all my insecurities and uncertainties invalid.

When he finally pulled to a stop in the U-shaped lane that counted as the school's bus loop, I wanted him to keep going. I almost said so.

He killed the engine. Everything felt so still, then, so real. We were in front of what I assumed was that huge rectangular building we’d seen before. This close, I could see it had what looked like faux-stone walls (though for all I know, the thing really could have been the keep to some old castle). Orange lights mounted along the wall facing the street lit up the sidewalk. Still in the van, I couldn't hear the conversations of the various passersby.

The driver got out and opened my door for me. The van rocked a little as he opened up the back to get my few belongings out, which he then piled neatly on the walk.

I stepped out to find the air colder than expected. That building just seemed to loom up before me like a stone giant.

"You'll be fine," he said, winking at me, "Just don't let all the beasties scare you."

"Thanks," I said, shouldering my backpack and grabbing up the suitcases. I felt like a pack mule.

A sense of loss filled my as the white van pulled around the curve and started its way off the campus. The driver was nice, and funny. Good company. Now, I just felt alone.

I'd made it. I was here, wherever this was. I looked around at the low buildings surrounding this big one. They were just lecture halls, libraries, athletics centers. Nothing to be frightened of.

But there really were so many trees. Their leaves all rustled in the wind,
chittering away. I saw plenty of lamps along all the walks and roadways, but I knew this place had to get dark. I was a city girl, born and raised. Darkness wasn't my thing.

And the people weren't monsters. They were my age, for the most part, and a pretty good mix of boys and girls. Some were trendy, some were formal,
others were dressed more casually.

"Hey, you a fresher?"

There were two guys. They both wore letterman jackets, the sleeves a cream color with the rest of it a deep red. Over their hearts were big Rs stitched in gold.

They had that football player aura. Bravado mixed with a young man's overconfidence. The one who'd spoken had a sharp-featured face under a head of light brown hair that had more product in it than I ever used. The other guy was a bit stockier, a bit
uglier.

"It's that obvious?" I said.

My pulse quickened. I felt so alone, so out of my element.

"Well, you are carrying bags. Look, the undergrad office is just in there on the first floor.
Can't miss it. And hey, our frat's always looking for more people who like to party. Why don't you come by some time?" he said. Neither of them really made an attempt to hide the fact that they were checking me out.

I didn't know whether I should feel flattered or disgusted. But he did at least tell me where I should start with this whole experience.

"Thanks, maybe I will," I said, hoping that would put an end to it.

I also started walking towards the door, just to make the message clear.

He put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

"I'm Eric," he said.

"That's nice," I said. I tried pulling out from under his grip, but couldn't.

Eric winked at me,
then let me go. "Be seeing you around."

He and his nameless buddy smirked at each other and strolled away. I didn't like the look on their faces.

I practically ran into the building, pausing only long enough to wrench the door open. Both my hands busy holding my suitcases, I had to use my foot to hold it in place.

Chapter 8

"Oh, you're from California?" a girl with red hair and freckles said. She swung what looked like a genuine Luis Vuitton back lazily from her pinky.

"Yeah, Pasadena.
I'm Stephanie."

So far, orientation was okay. I got a look at the beautiful campus. How could one place have so many trees and not be called a forest? It was bright and sunny today, and the shadows in some of the thicker knots of maples, pines, and oaks were still so deep.

It was no wonder people thought there used to be magic and monsters here.

"Penelope," the redhead replied, "Pasadena's nice. My parents have a nice
beach house just outside LA. Since you're from California already, where do your parents spend the summer?"