Scribner Horror Bundle: Four Horror Novels by Joshua Scribner (89 page)

“I can’t really remember why all those
people had to die. I used to know, but it all just confuses me now.
And I can’t tell you all the things your grandma wants me to. I
just can’t remember that much anymore.”

The old man stopped. He moved his head
from side to side, as if he were listening for something in the
room. He nodded his head and then began to speak again.

“All I can do is give you something.
It’s in the bedroom over there. I think it’s in the top drawer.
It’s an old brown book.”

Sonnie left Jacob’s side and went into
the room.

“
The people in this town
have a way of not knowing things. I think it’s because they’re too
busy with themselves and their own to notice each other. I figured
that out a long time ago.”

“And I bet he never told a soul,”
Sonnie said, as she returned with the thin brown book. “Just like I
never will.”

Jacob looked at Sonnie. Her eyes were
huge and there was promise in them. Dean Carrier said one last
thing before he fell asleep. “I don’t think it matters if I die
now.”

Jacob and Sonnie stayed for a few
minutes longer, just to be sure he had nothing else to offer. Dean
did not. As they walked out of the front yard, Jacob began to ask
her.

“Sonnie?”

“I haven’t told anybody Jacob, and I
never will. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Jacob took her hand as they walked
back toward her apartment.

“Thank you, Grandma,” he
whispered.

Chapter 12

“So why you, Jacob?” Sonnie asked,
without lifting her eyes from the old yearbook that Dean Carrier
had given them. “Why were you chosen to do this?”

Jacob, who had been watching her from
the couch, thought about her question then answered. “I don’t think
I was exactly chosen to do this.”

Now Sonnie looked up from the
yearbook.

“What do you mean? You were obviously
a part of it all.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t chosen. It’s not
like whatever is in control of this looked down from the sky or
wherever it resides and said, ‘There’s Jacob Sims. I think he’ll
make a fine murderer.’”

“You’re not a murderer, Jacob. You
didn’t kill anybody.”

“No, I just led them
there.”

“And that’s out of your control. You
were chosen to do a job.”

“Not chosen, though. I mean, it’s been
a part of me my whole life. As long as I can remember, I’ve always
had this vague tension that I can’t understand. For no reason at
all, I’ve always just felt bad.”

“Always? You mean all the
time?”

Jacob thought. “No, not always, I
guess. There were times that I didn’t feel bad, like when I was
studying real hard. I didn’t feel good. But I didn’t feel
bad.”

“Why’s that? Why did you not feel bad
then?”

“I think it was because that was the
way it wanted me to think. It wanted me to lose myself in
something. To keep my mind occupied. That way I wouldn’t spend time
trying to understand what I am.”

“
And you wouldn’t see what
was going on around you. I mean, in Nescata.”

“Exactly.”

“So why now? Why are you being shown
all this now?”

“I have no idea.”

Sonnie shook her head. “Me
neither.”

“But I wasn’t chosen to do this, and
neither was my grandma. It was planned from the beginning. That’s
why I’ve always had the tension. That’s why it runs down family
lines. We weren’t chosen to do this, Sonnie.”

“You were created to do
this.”

Jacob nodded.

“Jacob?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel now?”

“I feel the best I ever
have.”

Sonnie looked up and smiled at
him.

“You're going to be okay,” Jacob said.
“I’m not going to be tense anymore. Life will go on, I
think.”

“Yeah.” Sonnie looked down to the
yearbook and started flipping pages. Jacob could see the look on
her face, though. She seemed content.

“And I’m almost done here. Just a
couple of more things to know, and this is done.”

“Well, you want to start with this?”
Sonnie turned the book toward him. There, on the open page, was the
same picture his grandma had given him. Jacob crawled down on the
floor beside Sonnie. He started moving the pages.

“Let’s find what year my grandma is
in.”

“I already did.” Sonnie took the book.
She turned a few pages. “She’s a junior.” She pointed to a little
round picture toward the center of the page.

“And the rest of them?” Sonnie
asked.

“The products, I’m sure.”

They both stared at the page for a
little while.

“Did you find Dean yet?”

“Yeah. Freshman.” Sonnie flipped back
a few pages. “Right there.”

First, Jacob looked at Dean Carrier as
a young boy. Then, he began to scan the page. Something caught his
eye.

“Oh my God!”

“What?”

Jacob dropped a finger on the book.
“That boy was in my dream. He was the one who asked about the
perfect process. That’s him, exactly how he was, black and white
and everything.”

Sonnie’s eyes were intent on the book.
“Look at the name.”

Jacob looked over to the side where
the names were listed.

“Second one down on that row,
Jacob.”

“Andrew Tomsak!”

“Our science teacher,
himself.”

“Holy shit! He was in my
dream!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! That’s him!”

Jacob looked over the page, but found
no one else. “Turn it to the sophomores.”

Sonnie turned one page and there they
were. Among them was another that Jacob recognized.

“Who’s that? Find the
name.”

“All right. But I don’t really need
to. Look at her face. That’s Mrs. Carter. She was a Nescata
graduate too.”

“I see what you mean. She had that
same intense look then.”

“Are there any more?”

Jacob looked for a few seconds. “I
don’t see any.”

Sonnie turned another page. “Recognize
any here?”

Jacob scanned line by line. “No, none
of these were in my dream.”

“All right, how about the
seniors?”

This time it wasn’t hard. “Right
there. That’s Cindy Hogaboom. She was in my dream.”

Sonnie laughed. “Does that surprise
you?”

“Yeah. I guess it shouldn’t. She was
our principal. And in the dream she was kind of like the leader of
the group.”

“So how many were in your
dream?”

“There were two more.”

Sonnie began to flip the pages back
the other way.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, you say there were two more.
And if I remember right, there were two more Nescata High faculty
who were Nescata grads.”

“Who?”

Sonnie stopped. “You really didn’t
notice much of what went on around you, did you?”

“No, I really didn’t.”

Sonnie went back to turning the pages.
“Right there, Jacob. Is that one?”

“Yeah, she was there.”

“That’s Louese Whitfield?”

“That’s Ms. Whitfield?”

“Yes, that’s our history teacher when
she was in the seventh grade.”

Sonnie flipped some more pages,
scanning as she went.

“And this one?”

“Yeah, he was there too.”

“That’s your coach.”

“Brian Shaw.”

Sonnie closed the book.

#

For nearly an hour, Sonnie had been
writing something. Jacob sat and waited. He knew the answers would
be delivered to him. Whether they were from Sonnie or from a
vision, he would know soon enough. Sonnie was first.

“It regenerates itself.”

“What?”

“The process regenerates itself. These
people you saw in your dream were Nescata grads. They were trained
in Nescata, and then they trained us.”

“The process regenerated
itself.”

Sonnie looked back at her
notebook.

“Is that what you’ve been writing,
Sonnie?”

“Yeah. That and a little more.” She
looked back up at him. “Consider this. Andrew Tomsak was the
science teacher at Nescata High way before mine or your classes hit
kindergarten.”

“And a good one at that.”

“I’d say. How many times did one of
his students win the state science fair competition?”

“I couldn’t tell you,
Sonnie.”

“Of course you couldn’t. But I can
name three off the top of my head. Irwin Check and Matt Seifert
from your class. Not to mention Todd Blacklund, a few years
older.”

“Wow!”

“And then there was Joe Ann
Carter.”

“The manic math teacher. She was nuts,
Sonnie. I remember how she used to run from place to place between
classes.”

“Yeah, but she was never late, and not
too many people were behind. You finished Algebra if you took her
Algebra class. Then you started Trig that same year.”

“And by the next year, when you signed
up for Trig, you were ready to start Calculus.”

“And she was there before we came. So
was Ms. Whitfield.”

“Another odd ball.”

“But you never fell asleep in her
class. Nobody did. And how many high-school-history teachers can
claim that?”

“I see your point.”

Sonnie stood up and began to pace
across the room. “Now those three were always there. At least, as
far as we’re concerned.”

“Right.”

“Then there were the other two. Ms.
Hogaboom didn’t take over as principal until the year before you
came. The next year, the year your class came in, she hired Brian
Shaw.”

“Coach Shaw. He was great.”

“Great is an understatement. The year
before he came, you could count the number of wins for both the
basketball and football teams on one hand. And neither had made the
playoffs in the previous decade.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I pay attention. But I’m sure you
know too what he did for athletics. Your senior year—”

“Both teams won state, football and
basketball.”

“You got it. And the very next
year?”

“The very next year what?”

“He left.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. So listen to this. Your class
was the only class to have him for four years.”

“Right.”

“Do you remember what principal
Hogaboom started up your senior year?”

“Vaguely.”

“She started that Life Preparation
class. It was only for seniors, and she taught it
herself.”

“That’s right. It was basically an
ethics class.”

“Uh huh. And she thought it went over
well. She was going to make it a regular thing, every
year.”

“And didn’t she?”

“No. The next year she fell ill and
had to reduce her duties. The year after that, she went into the
hospital and died of cervical cancer.”

Jacob nodded.

“So there were two things that only
you and your classmates received: all four years of Coach Shaw and
one year of Ms. Hogaboom’s class.”

“But still, people before that and
people after that had some of these same teachers.”

“Yeah, but nobody got them all, except
your class, the products. The rest of us got some watered down
combination of these people.”

“And that’s how people like Shane and
Jeff were created.”

“Yeah, but that’s also how the
regenerators were created.”

Jacob looked up at Sonnie, who seemed
so sure of herself.

“Yeah Jacob. The regenerators, the
people who will come back and make the process happen
again.”

Jacob shook his head. “How does that
work?”

“I don’t know how it works, but I can
tell you this. None of the people who came back to Nescata
graduated the same year as your grandma.”

“Right.”

“And I’m assuming that your grandma’s
process was similar to yours.”

“Okay.”

“So then, the people from your
grandma’s class were the products of the process. They, like your
class, must have gotten the perfect combination of teachers too.
The years prior to and the years after your grandma graduated must
have got the watered down version. And that was enough to create,
Principal Hogaboom, Coach Shaw, and the rest of the
regenerators.”