Nightmare (13 page)

Emily began to cough, and Maxwell rubbed his eyes, trying to shift his chair back, away from the smoke.

“Don’t move! Don’t you dare break the circle!” Haley ordered.

Maxwell froze.

Haley carefully opened Emily’s vial of potion and tipped a drop onto her right thumb. She pressed her thumb against Emily’s forehead. As she repeated this performance with Maxwell and Taylor, Emily could see the dark smudge Haley’s potion-wet thumb had left on the others and knew she’d have a similar blob on her own face.

The damp spot on her forehead felt like a crystal of ice burning into her skin. She wanted to rub it away but didn’t dare.

She saw Taylor wince and Maxwell begin to reach up to rub away the stain, then apparently change his mind, so Emily realized she wasn’t the only one who felt the strange burning sensation. What had the
curandero
mixed with the liquid? Hot peppers? Nettles?

Emily stared at the vial in disgust. There was no telling what the
curandero
had used to make this black, evil-looking stuff, which he could bottle and sell as some kind of magic to superstitious, unsuspecting customers like Haley … and her.

Haley corked the vial, reached over, and tucked it
back into Emily’s pocket. In spite of her misgivings, Emily didn’t protest. She surprised herself by feeling strangely comforted that the vial had been returned.

Haley enfolded her thumb in her other hand and rubbed it, as if the stinging potion was bothering her, too. Then she pulled a small, creased sheet of paper from her shirt pocket, opened it, and began to read from it, holding it close to the candlelight. “ ‘May only that which is good and pure dwell within our bodies, so that which is good and pure in the world around us shall protect us from evil. May our healing goodness protect us from the arrows of destruction that fly against us. May our enemies be defeated and our victories be proclaimed. May the healing potion with which we have been anointed burn away all desires for wrongdoing within us, leaving only truth and beauty in their place. May we all—’ ”

With a sudden sputter, the candle flickered and went out, leaving the room in darkness.

While Haley fumbled for the light switch, Taylor called, “Hey, who did that?”

“None of us,” Maxwell answered.

Emily squinted in the sudden bright overhead light. A thin spiral of dark smoke rose from the hollow in the candle in which a few threads of the wick lay. “No one touched the candle,” she said. “I was watching it when it went out.”

Haley flopped onto the floor in front of them and clapped her hands to her cheeks. Her face was pale, and her eyes showed her fear. “The candle wasn’t supposed to do that,” she said. “It was an omen. A bad omen.”

Taylor reached over to pat her shoulder. “It was a nice ceremony, though, what there was of it,” she said.

“We hadn’t finished it,” Haley complained. “We were just coming to the part where we banish all evil spirits.”

“Can’t we light the candle again and keep going?” Taylor asked.

Maxwell picked up the candle and poked his finger into the melted wax. “No,” he said. “There’s no more wick.”

“Bummer,” Taylor said.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Haley said. “The rite was supposed to protect Emily.”

“And now it won’t?”

“I don’t know.”

I don’t believe in all this anyhow
, Emily reminded herself. There was really no reason for her to feel upset, for her heart to beat a little faster, and for her hands to sweat. She wiped her hands down the sides of her shorts. “I suppose it will have to be up to us,” she said.

Haley looked up at her. “Well, yes. You have your potion to protect you, and—”

“I mean we’ll have to rely on ourselves and what we can find out and not depend on ceremonies and potions.” Emily knew that the smile she gave Taylor was a little shaky, but at least her voice was firm. “If I’m not alone, if I’m always with someone …” She took a deep breath and went on. “Taylor, Haley … could one of you hang out with me, like when I go to class or meals?”

They both hurried to agree, and Maxwell chimed in. “One of us will be with you at all times,” he said. “At least until we figure out what is going on and have enough information to inform the police.”

“Should we tell Dr. Isaacson everything I told you?” Emily asked. “I mean, he’s in charge. He should know what we think is taking place. Maybe he could even help us.”

“Unless he’s the one who’s threatening you,” Maxwell said.

Emily remembered Dr. Isaacson’s searching questions about if and how she had known Dr. Foxworth. “Then I guess we’ll keep everything to ourselves for a while,” she said.

Maxwell peered out from under his cap. “Will you be okay until morning?”

“Of course she will. I’ll be with her,” Haley said.

A sharp rap on the door made Emily jump. Taylor let out a shriek.

Haley inched the door open, then widened it as she saw Tammy Johnson, another camper, standing there. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, relief in her voice.

“You promised you’d meet me in the lobby and go over my essay with me,” Tammy said.

“Oh,” Haley said. “I forgot.”

“Well, could you come now?”

Emily couldn’t help seeing the worried expression on Tammy’s face. “Go ahead,” she told Haley.

Haley glanced at Taylor and Maxwell. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” Emily said.

Tammy pointed at Maxwell. “How come he’s in your room? There’s a rule. Guys aren’t supposed to be in the girls’ rooms.”

“He’s just leaving,” Emily said.

As Haley slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her, Maxwell said, “Maybe I should stay.”

“No. Tammy was right. You shouldn’t break the rules. We don’t want you to get into trouble,” Emily said.

“I’m not worried about getting into trouble. I may have mentioned that a playwright grows and learns his craft through life’s varied experiences.”

“Good night, Maxwell,” Emily said firmly.

She watched Maxwell leave, then summoned all her
courage and said to Taylor, “You don’t have to stay just because Haley took off.”

“It’s okay,” Taylor said. “I’ll get my notebook and be right back. I want to work on my English assignment.” As she stepped into the hall, she said, “I’ll be back in two minutes.” She quietly shut the door.

Emily opened her notebook and found a pencil that didn’t need sharpening. Next she returned the two chairs to their places by the desks. She wondered where Taylor had gone. She’d said she would be right back.

Pulling one of the chairs out, Emily sat on it, but her back was to the door, and it made her feel creepy, so she moved to sit on the edge of the bed again.
I’m hiding
, she thought.
Ever since Dr. Foxworth’s murder, I’ve been hiding
. The realization didn’t surprise her. She guessed that she must always have known that her refusal to become the center of attention was not because she felt she couldn’t compete with her older sisters’ achievements. That was a separate problem with which she’d have to deal. But the hiding, even behind her mass of curly hair, was because she had been terribly afraid that whoever had threatened her really would find her.

For a moment she thought she heard footsteps in the hall … someone breathing … listening … the doorknob turning. What was keeping Taylor?

When at last a soft knock came, Emily stiffened. “Come on in,” she tried to call to Taylor, but her voice came out in a rough croak, and she had to start over.

The door opened, but the person standing there wasn’t Taylor. It was Mrs. Comstock.

“Emily, I hope you don’t mind a quick visit,” Mrs. Comstock said. “I noticed your roommate in the dorm lobby studying with Tammy Johnson. I knew you’d be
alone for a little while and we could talk. May I come in?”

“Um—sure,” Emily said. She stood, tense, scared, and ready to run as Mrs. Comstock stepped into the room and shut the door, leaning against it.

Run? There was no way she could escape. Mrs. Comstock was blocking the only exit.

Emily could hear her heart beating in her ears, and she felt her palms grow sticky with sweat. Probably no one had seen Mrs. Comstock enter the room, and she’d be sure that no one would see her leave. If something happened to Emily, there would be no witnesses. “What do you want to talk about?” Emily managed to ask.

“First of all, I want to make sure that you’re feeling well.” Mrs. Comstock took a step closer to Emily. “No more dizziness? No more feeling faint?”

Emily shook her head and repeated her excuse. “Mrs. Jimenez said I was just hungry.”

Mrs. Comstock smiled. “Hungry … or stressed? I’m more inclined to think it was the latter.”

Emily took a step back. “What do you mean?”

“You’re in an unfamiliar place, away from the protection of your family.”

Protection?
Emily flinched. Why had she used that word?

Mrs. Comstock had taken another step toward Emily, but she stopped and silently studied Emily’s face. “If something here at Camp Excel has disturbed you, perhaps it would help if you’d confide in one of the staff,” she began. “You can talk to me, Emily. I’m your friend. I want to—”

The door burst open, and Taylor flew into the room, blue-black smudges outlining her eyes. Emily gave a cry
of relief at seeing her, but Mrs. Comstock stumbled back, trying to get out of the way.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Taylor said in a rush. She stopped as she saw Mrs. Comstock and looked at her inquisitively.

“Hello, Taylor,” Mrs. Comstock said.

“Hi,” Taylor said. “I didn’t know you were here. I thought the teachers—”

“Slept in their classrooms?” Mrs. Comstock finished the sentence and laughed.

Taylor looked indignant. “That’s not what I was going to say,” she answered.

Mrs. Comstock stepped around her to reach the door, then paused and looked at Emily. “Tomorrow afternoon is our field trip to the Longhorn Cavern,” she said. “I want to make certain you feel well enough to take the walk through the cave. It takes at least an hour and a half.”

“I feel fine. I can do it,” Emily told her.

Mrs. Comstock smiled. “Good,” she said. “The cavern is fascinating. I’d hate to have you miss it.”

The moment she left, Taylor slammed her notebook onto Haley’s desk and said, “I wasn’t going to say that teachers sleep in their classrooms. Does she think I’m in first grade?”

Emily didn’t have a chance to answer before Taylor went on. “And I hate her dumb idea about making us go down into a big hole in the ground. What was she doing prowling around the dorm anyhow? The teachers were all supposed to be at something called an ‘end-of-day wrap-up.’ I saw the note on the bulletin board over in the main building.”

Calming down, she picked up her notebook and
asked, “By the way, have you got an extra pencil? I got to talking to my roommate and forgot to bring mine.”

“You didn’t tell her about … you know … about what we were talking about, did you?”

“Of course not,” Taylor said. “We were talking about makeup. She bought some new eyeliner that’s really cool.”

“You’re wearing it.”

Taylor giggled. “Sure. I had to see what it would look like on me.” She went on describing her roommate’s makeup purchase, but Emily tuned her out. She suspected that Mrs. Comstock had come to the room because she knew Emily would be alone. Had she really been worried that Emily wouldn’t feel well enough to hike an hour and a half through the cavern? Or did she have another purpose?

I’m scared
, Emily admitted to herself.
I don’t know what’s going to happen next, and I’m really scared
.

My plans for Emily’s termination are easily falling into place, and I will have a perfect alibi
.

Her death will be a sad note but will in no way intrude upon the success of Camp Excel, and the recognition of the work that will enhance my career
.

So sorry, Emily, but I have no other choice
.

At some moment during the very early morning hours, a lone mockingbird trilled exuberantly to a still-dark sky, waking Emily. An idea unfolded in her mind, and she sighed with relief. Before she slipped back into sleep, she knew what she must do.

She kept her plan to herself until Haley had finished her meditation, drawn her rune, and happily proclaimed, “V—Vara. Ahhh! I drew the rune of love.”

“You’re going to fall in love?” Emily asked. “With someone here at camp?”

Haley rolled her eyes. “Not so you’d notice,” she said. “Besides, if you draw the Vara symbol it doesn’t mean you’ll fall in love. Vara was a goddess who escorted the souls of the ancient Norse warriors to Valhalla. That was Viking heaven. Drawing her rune just means that happiness will be found.”

“Happiness would be nice,” Emily said.

Haley held out the box of stones. “Don’t you want to draw a rune? It might make you feel better.”

“No, thanks. I feel fine,” Emily told Haley.

“But chances are you’ll get a
good
forecast this time, and we can all stop worrying about you.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, why not? The runes know your future for today.”

“So do I. Today I’m going to start my project for English class.”

Haley looked surprised. “You’ve got an idea already? I get my best ideas the day before they’re due.” She stepped into the closet to place her box of runes on the shelf.

Emily asked, “Don’t you want to hear my idea?”

Haley reappeared and sat on the bed, her shoes in her hands. “Go ahead,” she said.

“I’m going to put together a directory made up of interviews with the staff about their studies and careers.”

“Bor-ing.” Haley made a face before she bent over to tie the laces on her sneakers.

“Don’t you know why?” Emily asked. “It will give me the excuse I need to find out who was working at the center eight years ago and then ask questions that might help me figure out who might have argued with Dr. Foxworth and pushed her off the stairs and why.”

Haley sat up, looking surprised. “Oh. What if they catch on to why you’re asking questions? Especially the one who …” She stopped, unable to finish.