The Third Evil (12 page)

Ignoring Debra's plea, Corky picked up her pace. Stepping over loose boards and other debris, she made her way across the yard to the towering mill wheel. It stood like a black Ferris wheel against the purple sky.

“Corky—where are you going?” Debra demanded. She had to jog to catch up. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

“It's all so scary,” Corky said, gazing up to the top of the rigid old wooden wheel. She raised her hands and gripped a wooden slat just above her head. “It feels good to use up some energy…nervous energy. You know.”

“Hey, Corky, stop,” Debra said, breathing hard. “I don't feel like climbing tonight.”

Corky had already hoisted herself onto the wheel and was pulling herself up slat by slat to the top. The owners had locked the wheel so it no longer moved.

Climbing the wheel was a popular sport among Shadyside teenagers. Sometimes they had races to see who could get up to the top first. Sometimes kids did a high-wire act, walking along the top of the wheel with their arms straight out, balancing precariously as they
moved. Sometimes they had competitions to see how many people they could squeeze on the top.

“Hey, Corky—this is dangerous,” Debra protested.

Corky, halfway up the wheel, was pleased to see that her companion was following. She began to climb even quicker.

“Corky—stop! It's slippery on this thing…from the rain yesterday. Corky! Why do we have to climb up here?” Debra cried.

Corky pulled herself up to the top of the wheel and stood up. Stretching, she glanced around. Great view, she thought. She could see the dried-up stream and entire mill yard, cluttered with trash and broken boards. Beyond the high fence, her car parked at the end of the gravel path. Beyond that, dark trees.

Darkness. Darkness stretching forever.

She reached down and helped Debra climb onto the top. Debra rested her knees on the damp wood, then reluctantly got to her feet. “This is dumb,” she said, catching her breath.

“Great view,” Corky replied softly, staring out at the trees.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Debra complained, shaking her head. “We could talk on the ground too, you know?”

“You afraid of heights?” Corky asked, turning her eyes on Debra.

“No. Not really.”

You
should
be, Corky thought, studying her friend. You
should
be very afraid of heights, Debra.

“Why are we up here?” Debra asked, leaning forward,
bending her knees and resting her hands on her thighs.

“To get a different perspective,” Corky replied seriously.

“Huh?”

“I don't know.” Corky shrugged, smiling. “I feel
safer
up here. Weird, huh?”

“Safer? You mean from Kimmy?” Debra asked, wrinkling her forehead.

“Yeah, from Kimmy. From everything,” Corky told her.

A gust of warm air fluttered through Corky's hair. She edged closer to Debra, balancing carefully.

“Well, I don't know what to say about Kimmy,” Debra said, still hunched forward. “It's all so frightening.”

That's okay, thought Corky. You won't have to be frightened anymore.

Bye, Debra. It's been nice knowing you. Have a nice flight. And happy landings.

She reached out both hands and grabbed Debra's shoulders to push her over the side.

A
s Corky put her hands on Debra's shoulders, Debra smiled up at her, unaware of her intentions. “I'm okay,” she said.

No, you're not, thought Corky. You're not okay. You're dead. She tensed her arm muscles and started to push.

“Hey, you girls—get down from there!”

The man's voice startled Corky back.

“Oh!” she cried out, and nearly toppled off the wheel.

“Get down!” the man shouted angrily. A bright light from a flashlight invaded Corky's face, then darted over to Debra. “Don't you know it's dangerous?”

Corky squinted down to see a man in a sweatshirt and denim overalls, staring up at them, moving his flashlight from one to the other.

“We're not doing anything!” Debra called down.

“You're trespassing,” the man yelled up. “Now, get down before I call the police.”

“Okay, okay. We're coming,” Debra said. She lowered herself to a sitting position. Then flipping over onto her stomach, she carefully climbed down the side.

Corky remained standing at the top, her anger surging, the ancient evil rising up until her entire body felt as if it were on fire.

I'm going to explode! she thought. Then I'm going to twist that guy's head around until I hear his neck crack. Then I'll rip his head off and pull the brains out through the neck.

The angry thoughts crackled like electricity in her mind.

But staring down at Debra as she made her way slowly to the ground, Corky's fury cooled. Why waste my time on that idiot? she thought.

Debra's my real target. Debra is the one who must die.

Corky lowered herself quickly down the side of the old mill wheel. Stepping onto the soft ground, she glowered at the man with the flashlight.

“I know you young people think you'll live forever,” he said, keeping the light on her face, “but you really shouldn't test your luck up there.”

I
will
live forever! Corky thought, feeling her anger begin to seethe again. But she kept herself under control. “You can skip the lecture,” she said dryly, then hurried to catch up with Debra, who was already crunching over the gravel to the car.

A short while later Corky dropped Debra off at her car in the deserted parking lot behind the mall.

“We didn't really get to talk,” Debra said quietly, pushing open the car door.

“I'll kill you tomorrow,” Corky told her.

Debra's eyes opened wide. “Huh? What did you say?”

“I said I'll call you tomorrow,” Corky replied, realizing her slip.

“Oh.” Debra's eyes narrowed again. She giggled nervously. “I guess I didn't hear you right.” She gave Corky a wave and slammed the door behind her.

You heard right. I'll kill you tomorrow, Corky thought. Something to look forward to. I'll kill you tomorrow, Debra, she thought, turning and heading the car toward the exit.

Then Kimmy will have to die.

Kimmy knows too much. Way too much.

And all that knowledge is a
dangerous
thing.

So, goodbye, Debra. And goodbye, Kimmy. Goodbye, cheerleaders. I'm afraid that from now on,
I'll
be the only one with something to cheer about.

Corky chuckled to herself, pleased with her amusing thoughts.

So much to look forward to, she told herself, turning onto Fear Street, heading for home.

Hannah's smiling face flashed into her mind.

“Don't worry, Hannah,” Corky said aloud. “I haven't forgotten you. I'll be looking in on you real soon…to finish what I started.”

C
orky awoke. Wide-awake. Alert. She saw the brass light fixture with its white globe above her head. The curtains, hanging straight and still in front of the dark windows. The hairbrush resting on the edge of the dresser top.

Everything was so clear. In such sharp focus. As if all that had come before had been a blur, a dream.

She sat straight up and gazed at her bed table clock. Three-oh-seven. The middle of the night.

What had awakened her? And why did she feel so…light?

Something is different, Corky realized. Something has changed.

Pale shadows flitted over the ceiling. They were so clear, so amazingly clear.

And then Corky realized.

The evil spirit was gone.

She was herself again. Seeing things for herself. Thinking her own thoughts.

I'm me! she thought.

It's gone! It's really gone!

Excitedly, she pushed down the covers and started to jump up.

But a heavy feeling held her back. A feeling she couldn't locate. A presence. Somewhere…somewhere inside her.

She sank back onto the bed.

It's still there, she knew. Is it sleeping?

Did the ancient evil have to sleep too?

How long do I have? she wondered sadly. How long do I have before it awakens and takes over again? And I am back to being a prisoner, an unwilling prisoner inside my own body?

Thoughts raced through her mind. Desperate, frightened thoughts. Corky closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

How can I get rid of it? she asked herself. How can I get my body back again…before I kill my friends?

The evil stirred within her. Stirred but didn't waken.

When it's awake, it's like I'm dreaming, Corky thought. I'm asleep somewhere, somewhere in my own body. Dreaming everything that's really happened.

She thought suddenly of her dream. She was on the pretty sailboat, in the long white dress. Sailing on the sparkling gold water.

And the children called her Sarah.

Sarah…Sarah
Fear?

Corky struggled to remember the story of Sarah Fear.

Months before, a strange young woman named Sarah Beth Plummer, a descendant of Sarah Fear, had told Corky the story. Or part of it before she had left town.

Sarah Fear, Corky remembered, was a young woman who lived in the late 1800s. She, too, had been inhabited by the evil spirit. In the summer of 1898 she had gone sailing on Fear Lake. A beautiful, calm day. But her pleasure boat capsized, and all aboard—including Sarah—drowned.

Yes. Corky knew this story. This story had formed her dream.

Only it wasn't really a dream. It was a small chunk of memory. A small chunk of Sarah Fear's memory.

Is that crazy? Corky asked herself. Is it possible that Sarah Fear's memory was revealed to me while I slept?

It
had
to be a memory, she decided. It was too clear, too
real
to be a dream.

Excited by these thoughts, Corky climbed out of bed and started to pace back and forth over her bedroom carpet.

What does the dream mean? Why did I dream it? How did I get inside Sarah Fear's life?

Again she could feel the sleeping evil stir.

She stopped pacing. Waited. Not breathing.

It continued to sleep.

Breathless with excitement, she sat down gently on the edge of the bed. She pictured Sarah Fear in her wide-brimmed straw hat and her long white dress, leaning on the rail of the gently bobbing sailboat.

How did I see all that? Corky wondered, closing her eyes and trying to see it all again. How did I see it so clearly?

Poor Sarah Fear. She had been inhabited by the evil spirit until she died.

Corky opened her eyes, excited by a new thought.

The spirit inhabited her—and it kept her memory.

The evil force must have Sarah Fear's memories inside it, Corky realized. It must have
all
the memories of all the people it inhabited over the years.

It took over their minds. It
possessed
their minds. And that meant that it also possessed their
memories.

So somewhere deep within the mind of the ancient evil spirit, somewhere deep inside that sleeping evil, Sarah Fear's memory remained.

And a little bit of it had escaped, had come to Corky while she slept.

How can I get to the rest of it? Corky asked herself. How can I get back into Sarah Fear's mind?

She stopped, suddenly chilled.

Why
do I want to get into poor Sarah Fear's memories? What would be the point? Sarah Fear died almost a hundred years ago.

As quickly as she asked herself the questions, Corky knew the answers.

Sarah Fear had been the only one to
defeat
the evil spirit.

When Sarah Fear died, the evil spirit went to the grave with her. And the evil had remained inside her grave for nearly a hundred years.

I want to send the evil force to its grave, Corky
thought, breathing hard, her mind spinning with ideas.