Night Terrors (7 page)
Josh.
He lets out a wild yell as he shoves Edward from behind. Pushes him hard toward the water. Edward's arms flail as he goes down. He lands hard on the edge of the boat, pushing it down into the water. I try desperately to hold on to the boat as it rises up.
But then the boat flips completely over, and the icy black water rushes around me.
I'm not sure if this is a dream or not. I can't tell anymore.
I'm in the lake. Surrounded by icy water. I can see the murky shape of Edward in front of me. The knife falls from his hand, shining weakly as it spins away. Edward is trying to swim back up toward the surface. Then I see another shadow, reaching up out of the darkness. An arm covered in the tatters of a red jacket.
Allen.
One shadowy hand grips onto Edward's ankle. For a moment, Edward keeps trying to swim upward. Then he looks down. He silently screams as those dead hands slowly pull him deeper and deeper. Until he fades from sight into the blackness beneath my feet.
I look up at the shiny surface of the water above me. The pounding in my head fades, all pain drifting away.
I can't make it back up.
And you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm tired. Of the nightmares. Of being afraid of what I might see. Of feeling guilty. I just want to let it go. Let it all go. I'll be like Sammy now. Forever looking up at the light.
Then I feel something wrap around my chest. Two small arms. Another shadow.
Not Allen. Sammy. I can't see his face in the gloomy dark, but I know that it's him. Telling me that it wasn't my fault. That it's not my time. Not yet.
Then the brightness is just above me, and the small dark shadow lets go. Sammy drops back into the darkness. I want to hold on to him, for just a little longer.
I puncture the surface. Air rushes into my lungs. Then Josh is hauling me onto the snowy dock.
I lie there for a while, sobbing. Not just because of the pain and fear, but because I can let go. Let Sammy go.
I'm alive.
I remember one thing from what happened next.
It took Harvey one more night to reach us. Part of it was the freak storm, which kept sending out wave after wave of wind and snow. But even when the storm subsided, he and some volunteers had to chainsaw their way through all the fallen trees on the road.
I don't remember the waiting. I don't remember how we survived.
Harvey finally found Josh and I huddled around the fireplace of a guest cabin. He told me later that we were lucky. I was in shock from exposure and the loss of blood from the wound in my shoulder. Josh wasn't in much better shape after diving in to get me out of the water.
I don't remember trying to explain about Edward to Harvey. About the skull in the woods. The ghosts. The body. Harvey says it took awhile to calm me down. That he nearly had to carry me to the pickup to get me to the hospital.
So here's the one thing I remember.
Driving down the road in the backseat of Harvey's pickup. Away from Ravenslake Lodge. Wrapped in blankets. Feeling safe for the first time in a long time. Watching the forest of white birches blur past the window. Thousands of pale trees fading away into the distance.
And then, from the corner of my eye, something red. Someone. Or something. Watching me leave.
I keep telling myself that ghosts don't exist. That I'm only scaring myself. That it's all in my mind.
But I don't really believe it anymore.
Sean Rodman lives and works in Victoria, British Columbia. His interest in writing for teenagers came out of working at some interesting schools around the world. In the Snowy Mountains of Australia, he taught ancient history to future Olympic athletes. Closer to home, he worked with students from more than a hundred countries at a nonprofit international school. For more information, visit
www.srodman.com
.
