Shadow Girl (9 page)

Friday night. A calm, cool night. The trees are still. A bright half-moon sends silvery light over the houses and lawns of Elmwood.

Shadow Girl slid down the tree at the side of the house. Keeping in the blue-black shade of the house, she made her way silently to the front.

She stopped near the curb to adjust her mask. Then she pushed her cape back over her shoulders.

A car rumbled past, its radio blaring country music. She dove behind an evergreen shrub to keep from the glare of the headlights.

Then Shadow Girl crossed the street, her boots clicking on the pavement. A crash from inside the Carver house across the street startled her. She stopped for a second. Then took off, running to the side of the house.

Sure enough, a window had been slid open.

No lights had been turned on. She saw the darting yellow beam of a flashlight cutting through the dark.

Footsteps from the front room. The light swept one way, then another.

Silently, Shadow Girl climbed onto the windowsill. Then she lowered herself into the house.

She landed softly and made her way across the dining room.

A cabinet drawer banged in the front room. More footsteps.

She crept into the living room. Her gloved hand found the light switch on the wall.

She clicked on the ceiling light—and saw the masked figure. He wore a blue cape and had a blue ski mask pulled down over his face. He was bent over the TV set, unplugging it.

He froze when he saw her. Then he raised the flashlight and sent the bright beam into her face.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I’m Shadow Girl,” she announced. “This is your last robbery, Blue Weasel.”

He stood up slowly, his eyes unblinking, locked on her. “My last robbery? What makes you so sure?”

She didn’t reply. Instead, she leaped forward. She batted the flashlight from his hand and then lowered her shoulder to tackle him to the floor.

He dodged quickly. Then he grabbed her cape with both hands.

Shadow Girl caught her balance and spun around to face him.

But the masked burglar twisted the cape around her. Wrapped it around her throat.

She lashed out with both hands. But her punches went wild.

He began to tighten the cape. Tightening it around her throat. Choking off her air.

She raised a knee. Tried to kick him. Thrashed her hands at him.

But she could feel herself growing weak as he tightened the cape even more. Tightened it, choking off her air…

Choking her…

One last chance. She let her knees buckle. Dropped to the floor. And started to spin.

Faster. Faster.

The burglar stumbled back in surprise as the cape jerked out of his hands.

Shadow Girl rose up, spinning, spinning so hard, she created a whirlwind. The wind whipped around them both, sending the cape sailing around the burglar.

He tried to toss it away. But the swirling wind wrapped the cape around him. Held him in place, tightening like the wraps around a mummy.

The cape held him helpless. Until the whirlwind faded. And Shadow Girl stepped forward to pluck the cape away.

She reached out and pulled off the blue mask.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry it’s you, Stan.”

His face darkened to beet red. His eyes rolled crazily in his head. “How—how did you know?” he cried hoarsely.

“Shadow Girl knows everything,” she replied, and dragged him out of the house.

I stood in the bushes at the bottom of the yard and watched Jada lead Stan away. At first, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Stan? Stan was the Blue Weasel?

Did Jada know this all along?

The mask hid Jada’s eyes. But I could see the smile on her face. I knew she was enjoying being a superhero.

I was smiling too. I knew I had done the right thing.

Later, I waited in the secret room for Jada to return. It was nearly midnight when I heard her climb the tree. She dropped gracefully in through the window.

“You waited up for me?” she asked, straightening her black cloak.

I nodded. “I had to talk to you. Did you know that Stan was the burglar all along?”

“Yes,” she replied with a sigh. “Poor guy. It was too easy. You know. The new DVD player. The new computer. Stan’s family is so poor. How could they afford all that?”

We both dropped to the floor to talk, resting our backs against the wall.

“So I told Stan about the Carvers being away all week,” Jada continued. “I made up a story about throwing a party there Saturday night. I knew he’d go there to rob it before the party because he knew the house was empty. It was such an easy trap.”

I laughed. “Easy for
you
maybe—but not for me. I’m glad I killed you. You make a much better Shadow Girl than I ever would.”

My cousin sighed. “Yes, Red Raven is dead. Gone forever. When you gave your pendant and costume to me, I became Shadow Girl for all time—for the rest of my life.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out what to do,” I said. “I was so confused.”

“You had to discover it for yourself,” she replied. “You had to hand over the costume of your own free will. And when you did, I truly became Shadow Girl.”

“I’m so happy we both got what we want!” I exclaimed.

And we threw our arms around each other and hugged—hugged for real—for the first time in our lives.

I returned home a few days later, and Mom was very surprised to see me. So surprised, she dropped an entire tray of glasses!

Of course, there was a lot of hugging and crying.

Through my tears, I did my best to explain.

Mom agreed that I had done the right thing. But she had an odd expression on her face. I had the weirdest feeling that she was disappointed somehow.

But that had to be my imagination.

“I’m so glad to return to a normal life!” I cried. And more hugs and tears followed.

After we talked for a while longer, I made my way to the stairs. “I have to call Beth,” I said. “I have to tell her the good news that I’m back. That we can be friends again.”

I ran up the stairs. I was passing Mom’s room on the way to mine, when I spotted something on the bed.

Something weird.

I stepped into Mom’s room and hurried over to the bed.

To my surprise, Mom burst into the room behind me. Her face was twisted in horror.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” she cried. “I didn’t know you were coming home. I would have put it in its place.”

My heart pounding, I picked it up. A red cape. A pair of silky red tights. A sparkly black mask with diamond-shaped eye holes.

“Mom? What
is
it?” I cried.

“My costume,” she said in a whisper.

I didn’t scream.

I was proud of that. I think maybe that’s one reason no one teased me about the wasps later.

The sting only swelled a little bit. It itched a lot. But the cream that Ramos spread over it kept it from really hurting.

“You were lucky,” Ramos said later, as we paddled along the river, the current pulling us easily. “All those wasps and only one sting. The others must have decided that you wrecked their nest by accident.”

I forced a weak laugh. “I guess.”

“You were brave, the way you just froze there and let them climb all over you,” Charlotte said. She shuddered. “Just thinking about it gives me the creeps.”

The river picked up speed. We took turns paddling. The sun tried to come out a few times. But it couldn’t break through the high clouds.

My neck was throbbing and I felt a little dizzy by the time Ramos announced it was time to stop for the day. We pulled the canoes to a wide, grassy area on the shore.

Then we carried the tents and other supplies across the grass to a flat, dry circle surrounded by tall trees. I saw a rabbit watching us from the edge of the woods. Two cawing bluejays swooped through the low branches of the trees.

The air carried a chill. The sky darkened to charcoal gray.

“We need lots of firewood,” Ramos instructed. “After we cook our food, we’ll want to keep the fire going for warmth. Get going, guys.”

He set to work on the tents. The five of us made our way into the woods.

I was walking with David and Marty. But when I bent down to pick up some long twigs, they wandered away. I saw the two girls on the other side of a clump of tall reeds. They were struggling to pick up a fat log from the ground.

“Russell—find any wasps’ nests?” Marty called.

“Not yet!” I shouted back.

“We’re staying as far away from you as we can,” David said.

Erin said something, but I couldn’t hear her. I was staring at something caught in the brambles of a low bush.

At first I thought it was a small, white bird. But bending down, I saw that it was an arrow. A stone arrow with a long, white feather attached. “Weird,” I muttered.

I picked it up to study it. Was it an Indian arrow?

“Hey—check this out!” Charlotte called. Carrying the arrow, I hurried over to her. She held up a small, brown object. “I found it resting against that tree.”

“A doll?” I asked.

She nodded. “It’s made of some kind of leather. And it’s wearing a long dress, all fringed.”

“It’s an Indian papoose,” Erin said, taking it from Charlotte.

I showed them the feathered arrow. “Remember? Indians lived in these woods for hundreds of years,” I said.

“But these things are brand new,” Erin replied.

“How could that be?” Charlotte asked, studying the arrow, running her finger over the fresh, white feather. “Ramos told us the Indians were driven out a hundred years ago. So how did these things get here?”

“It’s a mystery,” Erin said. She handed the little, leather doll back to Charlotte. “A real mystery.”

I heard Indian drums again that night.

We all gobbled up dinner—hot dogs on the fire and sandwiches left over from lunch. We were starving.

We showed Ramos the doll and the feathered arrow. But he couldn’t explain them. He was as puzzled as we were.

After dinner, Ramos asked if we wanted to sit
around and tell jokes. But we were all yawning. Aching and exhausted from the long day of canoe paddling.

The tents formed a tight circle around the fire. The shadows of the flames danced on the vinyl tent walls.

We divided up and climbed wearily into the tents. Marty and I shared a tent. I left the tent flap open so that we could watch the fire and feel its heat.

We pulled off our muddy boots. Then we climbed into our sleeping bags in our clothes.

“How is your wasp sting?” Marty asked, yawning.

“Not too bad,” I whispered. “It itches a little, but it’s okay.”

I turned and saw that he was sound asleep.

I settled into the sleeping bag and stared out at the red-orange flames licking up at the darkness.

A minute or so later, the drumbeats began.

Low and distant. A slow, steady
thrum…thrum…thrum
.

Indian drums, I thought.

I pictured the leather doll, the feathered arrow.

I picked up my head and gazed out through the tent flap. The fire had died down. The flames were small now, sparks above the purple embers.

Thrum…thrum…thrum…

Soft drumbeats from the woods. From all around.

All around the circle of the clearing, I thought.

Thrum…thrum…

Soft but close…so close.

I fell asleep to the slow, steady rhythm of the drumbeats. I slept a deep, dreamless sleep.

I jerked awake the next morning—sat straight up—stared out at the gray morning light.

What woke me up?

A scream?

Yes. A hideous, deafening scream of pain.

Ramos!

I reached over and frantically shook Marty awake.

“Wake up!” I cried. “It’s Ramos! Do you hear that scream? It’s Ramos!”

Ramos’s screams echoed off the trees.

I pulled on my boots and scrambled out of the tent.

Charlotte and Erin were awake, standing tensely in front of the dead campfire. Charlotte’s red hair stood out in all directions. Erin was struggling to tug down the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

They turned to me, their eyes wide with fright. Marty hopped out of the tent, pulling on his left boot.

David came climbing out of the tent he shared with Ramos. “What’s happening?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “Is that Ramos screaming?”

Before anyone could answer, Ramos roared across the clearing, holding his right arm tightly against his side. His face was red. His dark eyes were half shut from pain.

“Oh, man. Oh, man,” he moaned.

“Ramos—what happened?” Charlotte cried. We all ran across the grass toward him.

“My arm,” he moaned. “I—I think I tore something.”

He dropped into a sitting position in front of the dead fire. “Oh, man—it hurts.” He gripped the arm tightly, holding it stiffly against him.

We huddled around him. “What happened? What did you do to it?” I asked.

He groaned in pain. “I went out early to chop more firewood for this morning,” he said. He looked around. “Where’s the ax? Oh, man. I left it in the woods.”

“I’ll go get it,” I said.

He motioned for me to stay where I was. “I was chopping a log in two—and I heard something snap. In my arm. The pain is
unbelievable
!”

He motioned to David. “Bring me some water. It’s in the pack over there. I…I’m so dry.”

“Do you think you broke your arm?” Marty asked him.

David handed the water bottle to Ramos. Ramos tilted it to his mouth and took a long drink. “No. I didn’t break the bone,” he said, wincing in pain. “I think I tore the tendon.”

He drank down the rest of the water and crushed the plastic bottle in his good hand. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “I won’t be able to paddle at all.”

My heart jumped. “Do you mean we have to go back to camp?” I asked.

Ramos shook his head. He glanced at the river. “No. We’re too close. The falls are less than half an hour away. You…you’ll just have to go over them without me.”

I gasped. I could feel my stomach tighten. “Go without you?” I whispered.

Holding his arm, Ramos struggled to his feet. “I’m really sorry I won’t be able to help. But you guys can do it without me. I know you can.”

“But—if we get in trouble…” Erin started. “If we need help…”

“You’ll help each other,” Ramos told her. He groaned in pain. “Listen, guys—leave everything here. We’ll pick it up on the way back. Just have some breakfast. Get into your life jackets. Take the two canoes. And go.”

“But where will you be?” I asked.

“I’m going to start walking now,” he answered. “I’ll wait for you down below the falls. I’ll be watching the whole thing from the shore.”

“But, Ramos—” Erin started.

“No more questions,” he groaned. “Good luck, everyone. Make me proud.”

Holding his arm limply at his side, Ramos turned and started away, walking quickly. We watched him make his way out of the clearing.

When he reached the shore, he gazed at the
canoes for a moment. Then he turned and started to follow the river.

He didn’t look back.

The five of us didn’t say anything for a while.

Marty kicked the crushed water bottle into the fire. The bottle sent up a cloud of ashes.

“Guess we might as well get going,” Charlotte said.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Let’s get it over with.” A shiver ran down my back. “We can do it…right?”

Our paddles splashed the water. The canoe felt empty without Ramos.

I sat in the back. Charlotte took the middle. I raised the paddles, then pushed…. Raised the paddles, then pushed. Copying Charlotte’s rhythm.

Trying not to think about where we were headed.

My life jacket seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. Large drops of sweat started to roll down my forehead, stinging my eyes.

Through the morning gray, I saw a tall deer, watching us from the shore. The sun, trying to poke through the clouds, cast a white glare over the flowing water.

The canoe rocked as water splashed up in front of us. The current is definitely speeding up, I realized.

The river grew wider. The tangled trees along the banks suddenly seemed a lot farther away.

I leaned forward and paddled harder. Our two
canoes slid through the water side by side.

“Whoa!” I cried out as we tossed over an onrushing wave. The canoe slapped the water hard as it came back down.

Swirls of water made circles of white foamy waves. The canoe bumped again, harder this time.

“We’re getting close,” Marty said. “The river is starting to get rough.”

A wave of fear swept over me. We need Ramos for this, I thought. It isn’t safe to be doing this on our own.

I wondered if the others were thinking the same thing.

I was so surprised when Erin spoke up. “Maybe we should turn back,” she said. “I don’t feel right without Ramos. I mean, what if one of us falls into the river? What if our canoes crack up on the rocks?”

“Erin, go climb in Russell’s canoe!” David joked. “The two of you could hold each other’s hands.”

“Not funny,” Erin snapped.

Our canoes tossed up, then slapped back down.

“Russell, are you getting seasick?” David asked.

“No way! This is fun!” I lied. “I hope it gets rougher than this. This is kind of babyish.”

I’m going to be the bravest one here, I vowed to myself. Even if it
kills
me!

Foamy, white water tossed up in front of us, then splashed down into the canoe. The canoe rocked from side to side as water slapped the sides.

I bounced into the air and nearly dropped one of my paddles. Charlotte’s hair flew wildly behind her head. Our faces were wet from the cold spray.

“Guys, I’m serious!” Erin shouted. “This is too scary! And we haven’t even come to the falls!”

I was so glad she was saying this, and not me. But would anyone listen?

“Erin, just keep paddling,” Marty said. “You’ll be okay. Really.”

“We won’t be okay!” Erin cried, her voice shrill and trembling. “We’re going over steep falls, and we’re going to crash into rocks below!”

Charlotte suddenly spoke up. “We have to do this!” she shouted, bouncing up as a wave tossed the canoe. “We can’t be the first senior campers in history not to go over Forbidden Falls!”

“But the others all had a counselor with them!” Erin protested.

“So we’ll be the first
without
a counselor!” I shouted. “We’ll be famous!”

Everyone turned to look at me. “Russell—you’re the man!” Marty yelled. “You’re the man!”

We all had to shout over the roar of the water. White-foamed waves tossed against the canoes on all sides. The canoes bounced beneath us.

Our canoe went into a wild spin. Charlotte and I stabbed the paddles harder and held firm. “Whooooaaa!” We both laughed as the canoe finally straightened itself.

Paddling hard, I turned to the other canoe. Marty sat in front. He was drenched with water. His hair was matted to his head. Water rose up into the canoe. Splashed against the front of his life jacket.

Erin, in the middle, leaned forward. She seemed to be ducking behind Marty, letting him shield her. Her face was very pale in the gray light. Even from my boat, I could see the fear tightening her face.

David stared straight ahead. His eyes were narrowed. His face was set. His body was tensed, alert, ready for anything. As the canoe bounced and rocked, his expression didn’t change.

Our canoe bumped down hard, then bumped again, as if going down steep stairs. “We—we’re almost there!” I shouted to Charlotte.

She shouted a reply, but I couldn’t hear her over the roar of the rushing water. The canoe shot forward, rocking harder. The current pulled us faster…faster.

“Look out!” I shouted as the swirling waves tossed the canoe at the shore. “Too close!”

Tall, gray rocks jutted up along both sides of the riverbank.

We struggled to paddle back to the middle. The river curved sharply here, and the current kept pushing us to the shore.

The falls are right around this curve, I remembered.

Cold water splashed over me. I gasped and sucked in a shuddering breath.

So close…

We’re seconds away, I knew. Seconds away from Forbidden Falls.

The river curved sharply. The rushing current carried us forward, faster…faster…

Charlotte and I stopped paddling. I gripped the sides tightly, holding on for dear life.

“Here we go.
Here we go!
”

I tried to remember Ramos’ instructions. But they had flown out of my head.

I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t think.

I couldn’t move.

The rushing water roared in my ears. Waves rose up all around us, as if reaching for us. The canoe tilted to one side, heaving me hard. I felt myself start to tumble out.

Then the canoe tilted to the other side. I fell back into place.