Party Games (13 page)

“N-no, I don't,” Brendan stammered, finally finding his voice. “I … really don't.” His eyes were still on the water. The boat had disappeared in the mist off the lake.

Brendan removed Geena's hands from his shoulders and climbed to his feet. “I wish I had the answer,” he told her. “I wish…”

“What do we do now?” Delia asked. “Is there another boat we can take?”

“No. That was it,” Brendan said. “The island is deserted. No one comes here in October. Especially when it's threatening rain.”

I gazed up at the darkening sky. The storm clouds were black now and sliding together to block out the light. I heard a rumble of distant thunder.

“So what do we do?” Delia repeated. “There has to be a way to contact the police or someone.” She shuddered. Geena moved close and put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

Brendan shrugged. He scratched his head. “I … can't think straight. I'm too weirded out. I just don't understand what these two men are doing here. How did they get here? I don't see a boat. How did they get here without a boat?”

Eric stepped up beside Brendan. “Is anyone here a good swimmer?” he asked.

Brendan squinted at him. “You mean good enough to swim across Fear Lake? That would take an hour. Maybe two with the water kicking up the way it is. And the water is freezing cold.”

Eric's broad shoulders slumped. “Just a thought.”

“Keep thinking,” I said. “Maybe one of us will—”

I stopped when I heard a crash behind us. A heavy
thud,
coming from the house. “What was that?” I cried.

We all turned toward the house. “Was it thunder?” Brendan's cousin Morgan asked.

“Sounded more like a crash,” I said. “Like something heavy falling.”

“A tree maybe,” Brendan said. “From the wind. Maybe a tree falling against the house?”

“This isn't getting us anywhere,” Eric said, mopping sweat off his forehead. “Where are we safer? Out here or in the house?”

“Out here,” a few kids said.

I felt a cold raindrop on my forehead. Then another big drop splatted the top of my head.

The rain made a pattering sound on the ground as it started to come down harder. The cold wind swirled, splashing water on us on all sides.

We had run out of the house without raincoats or umbrellas. I hugged myself, shivering. “Maybe we can think better in the house,” I said.

There wasn't any debate. We all took off, heads down, leaning into the wind, following the path up through the trees to the house. A jagged bolt of lightning crackled to our left, lighting up the trees, followed by a deafening explosion of thunder.

Breathing hard, I leaned forward and kept running. The house came into view at the top of the slope. It rose up in front of us, dark and ominous against an even darker sky.

Struggling to keep my balance, I slipped on the long, slick grass. My shoes sank into the soft mud underneath. Brendan led the way, swinging his arms as he ran, and I followed close behind him.

What was that loud crash we heard? I didn't see any sign of a tree crashing onto the house.

Brendan reached the front door first. Grabbed the brass door handle and tugged the door open.

I held back. Were the masked killers waiting for us there?

The front entryway was empty. I followed Brendan into the house, shaking off rainwater, hugging myself to stop the shivers. My hair was soaked and was slipping out of my ponytail. I swept it back and tried to force it back into the elastic band. We were all totally drenched and bedraggled, our faces tight with fear.

Eric had his arm around April. She had her head down, her shoulders shaking. Geena and Spider huddled close in silence. No one spoke. I knew we were all listening. Concentrating. Alert for any sign of the two intruders.

“This way,” Brendan said, motioning us down the hall. He led the way back to the ballroom. Our footsteps echoed in the big, empty room. Harsh yellow light poured down from spotlights in the ceiling. The food and drink tables were empty. The fire had died in the big fireplace.

Brendan called his two cousins to the fireplace, pointed to the wood stacked at the side, and asked them to rebuild the fire. “I'll check out the kitchen. Maybe I can make some hot chocolate for everyone.” He disappeared through a door to our right.

A warm drink was a good idea. I couldn't stop shivering. I dropped into a folding chair beside Eric and April and hugged myself, trying to get warm. My beautiful jacket was soaked. I took it off and draped it over the arm of an empty chair.

“I'll bet there are a lot of ghosts in this ballroom,” Eric said. “Ghosts of the evil Fear family. Do you think they are watching us?”

“Eric, shut up,” I snapped. “Do you really think this is the right time for ghost stories?”

“We all know the story of the Fears,” Eric continued, ignoring me. “We all know the family is cursed. And now we're part of their story. Maybe we're cursed, too.”

He turned to Brendan's cousins. “You two are Fears. Do you know something you're not telling us?”

Kenny and Morgan scowled at him. “Do we look like killers to you?” Morgan said.

“Yeah. You do,” Eric replied.

“Shut up, Eric!” several kids shouted.

“Eric, you're so stupid,” Geena said. “What are you trying to do? Do you really think accusing them will help us? You're not helping anyone.”

“Why don't
you
go swim the lake and get help?” Spider suggested.

“Why don't you make me?” Eric shot back.

“Stop being a total baby,” Geena said. “We have to be serious.”

“Your
face
is serious,” Eric said.

I knew what Eric was doing. It was his only way of dealing with tension. Make jokes. Try to be funny.

“Eric, sure hope you're not the next victim,” Spider said. “We'd miss you. Seriously.”

That made some kids gasp. I knew Spider didn't have much of a sense of humor. He didn't like Eric's jokes. But Spider was being extra-nasty now. Probably because he was so frightened.

Eric jumped to his feet and faced Spider. “Won't you feel terrible if I
am
the next victim?”

“I'll cry like a baby,” Spider said sarcastically.

Eric charged at him. The two boys pulled each other to the floor and started to wrestle. I screamed. “Stop it! STOP it! This is
crazy
!”

Brendan's cousin Kenny ran from the fireplace, grabbed Spider by the shoulders, and pulled him off Eric. Eric rolled away, his face bright red, a trickle of blood on his lips.

Brendan returned carrying a tray of cups. He set them on the table. His mouth opened in surprise. “What's up? What's happening?”

“Spider and I were just goofing,” Eric said, wiping the blood off his mouth with a shirtsleeve. “You know. Messing around.”

Kenny let go of Spider. Spider glared at Eric but didn't say anything. Finally, he turned away and strode quickly to the table. He grabbed a cup of hot chocolate and walked to the other side of the room.

“Have some hot chocolate, everyone,” Brendan said, his eyes still on Eric. “I think I made enough for everyone. And I found some sweatshirts and sweaters, help yourself.”

I walked over to the table and took the smallest sweatshirt I could find. I slipped it on and then took one of the steaming cups. I held the cup in both hands, letting it warm them.

Eric's lip was still bleeding. Spider stood against the wall, massaging his shoulder. He must have hurt it in their scuffle.

The hot chocolate disappeared quickly. Without anyone saying anything, we all took seats on the folding chairs, as if getting ready for a meeting. Brendan paced back and forth in front of us.

His cousins were fiddling with the fire. I was surprised they didn't try harder to get acquainted with any of us from Shadyside High. They pretty much kept to themselves. Of course, we were all too frightened to be social now.

“I don't really know what to say,” Brendan started. He had his hands jammed deep in his pockets. “Maybe if we all think hard…”

I was near the back of the seats. I glanced around at the other kids in front of me. My eyes went back and forth. I stopped briefly at each one.

Then, I felt my heart skip a beat. I let my eyes wander over the kids again. And then one more time, my panic rising, tightening my throat till I could barely breathe.

I jumped to my feet. “Hey,” I shouted. “Where's Kerry?”

Brendan stopped pacing. Kids turned to look at me.

“Where's Kerry Reacher?” I cried. “Has anyone seen Kerry?”

 

22.

ANOTHER GAME

 

“Kerry?” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Kerry? Are you here?”

Silence.

“I didn't see him outside,” Brendan said. “Did anyone see him when we ran to the dock?”

“Yes, he was outside with us,” I said. “I ran right beside him. I know he was there when we saw the boat leaving with the staff. But then when it started to rain…” My voice trailed off.

I thought hard. “I … didn't see him run back to the house,” I said.

Brendan scratched his head. “He stayed outside in the rain? No way. He wouldn't. Would he?”

No one answered. I shut my eyes and tried to picture running back through the rain to the house. Was Kerry still beside me? No. No, he wasn't.

“I knew he was totally messed up about Patti,” Brendan said. “But he seemed to be getting it together. Why would he stay outside by himself? He had to come back into the house. I know he's here somewhere.”

“Stop talking!” I cried. “Talking isn't going to find him. We have to look for him!”

“Rachel is right,” Brendan said. “Should we split up?” He paused. “No. Better not. We'll go together. We can't search outside. It's a downpour. We'll start on the first floor of the house. And then go up a floor at a time.”

A frightened hush fell over everyone as we started to the ballroom door. I hurried to catch up to Brendan.

“We'll find him,” Brendan said softly. “Maybe he just got lost. This house is so confusing, and he wasn't thinking clearly. I'm sure he's okay.”

But I could hear the fear in his voice. He kept his head down and didn't look me in the eye.

As we followed the long hall, I kept picturing Kerry on the boat when we sailed to Fear Island, his arm around Patti. I kept picturing how happy they both looked. How funny they looked together—a tiny doll with a giant basketball player.

We walked through the brightly lit kitchen. The workers had left it a mess, with dirty pans and stacks of unwashed pizza trays, dirty glasses piled in the sink. The countertops were grease-stained and cluttered with scraps of uneaten food.

No sign of Kerry.

Behind the kitchen were several rooms for maids and kitchen workers. We searched them all. Then we turned a hall that led toward the back of the house.

“Hey, stop shoving!” Spider shouted from behind me.

“I didn't shove you. I didn't touch you,” I heard Eric reply.

Brendan spun around. “Let's stick together, guys.” He raised his hand for us to come to a stop. “Kerry won't be back here. It's all construction. My parents are building a big shed and boat hangar back here. I think we should turn around and—”

“No,” I interrupted. “Let's check it out. We have to look everywhere.”

Brendan hesitated. I gave him a gentle push toward the backdoor. “Okay. You're right,” he said. He pushed open the door, and we followed him out to the construction site.

The rainstorm had been short. The rain had stopped but the heavy clouds lingered, hanging low over the trees. I squinted into the eerie gray-green light.

The ground was covered with long concrete slabs to build the hangar foundation, I guessed. They were stacked neatly in rows across the dirt, about six or eight feet high.

One pile looked as if it had fallen. The long slabs were tilted over each other at weird angles.

Was that the crash we heard?
I wondered.
The sound of these slabs toppling over?

My eyes moved down to the bottom of the pile. I blinked. I felt a sharp jolt of shock run down my body. I tried to scream but no sound came out.

I stared at the legs poking out from under the fallen slabs.

The long legs.

Kerry's legs.

Oh, no. Oh, please no.

The rest of him … crushed …

A concrete slab lay over the middle of his body. His stomach … his chest … crushed beneath its weight. His legs sprawled from one side of the boulder. I could see his neck and head on the other.

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.
This isn't happening.

Brendan dove toward Kerry. He picked up a sheet of paper from the top of a concrete slab. He read it out loud:
“I Never Was Good at Jenga.”

Brendan crushed the paper in his fist and tossed it to the ground. Then he lowered himself to his knees. Bent over Kerry. He grabbed Kerry's head in both hands. He tried to hold it up. But then he set it gently back onto the ground.

Brendan climbed to his feet and turned to us, his face pale, his chin quivering. “Kerry is dead,” he said. “He's dead, too.”

 

23.

A GHOSTLY INVITATION

 

Our horrified cries rang out over the construction site. They echoed through the trees at the back of the yard.

April and Geena held onto each other. They both were sobbing, tears running down their flushed faces. Muttering to himself, Spider angrily kicked a clump of dirt across the ground. Delia shut her eyes and hugged herself.

I grabbed Eric's arm and held on. I had the feeling my legs were going to collapse. I pulled Eric to the side. We both turned away from the sight of Kerry's sneakers on the ground, his legs jutting out from beneath the heavy slab.