There's Something Out There (14 page)

“Yeah, well, you
are
my only sister,” he replied. “I'd rather you not, like,
die
or anything.”

“Me either,” Jenna said, laughing genuinely for the first time in days.

It felt so good to laugh, in the sunshine, with Jason next to her. But the trees stood before them, tall and silent, casting long shadows over the yard.

“I, um, I actually owe you an apology,” Jason began.

“What did you do this time?”

“That claw thing? In your room the other night? I was the one who put it in your bed when I heard you get up,” Jason admitted. “To freak you out.”

“I
thought
it was you!” Jenna exclaimed. “But you were sleeping when I peeked in your room.”

“You
thought
I was sleeping,” Jason corrected her. “Anyway—forgive me? I'm actually really sorry about that. It seemed funny at the time.”

“You're forgiven,” Jenna said with a sigh. “But how did you know where to find it?”

Jason gave her a funny smile. “I'm sure I'll regret
admitting this, but Jenna, let's just say you need to find a new secret hiding place. I've known about that one for years.”

Jenna was about to start yelling at her brother for going through her stuff when she realized that even though Jason could've read all the notes from her friends, he'd never used them to embarrass her.
Maybe
, she thought,
he hadn't even read them
.

“Do
not
snoop through my room anymore,” she said firmly. “And could you
try
not to be such a huge loser?”

“I'll see what I can do,” Jason replied. Then he nodded toward the woods. “You sure you're up for this?”

“I think so,” Jenna said. “I just … want to go back. For a minute, at least.”

They walked into the woods without saying another word, passing through the golden sunlight that filtered through the trees. It was all so pretty and peaceful, so
calm
, even, that Jenna had trouble believing it was the same place she'd been so terrified the night before.
Maybe I let my imagination run away with me
, she thought.
Maybe Mom was right, and it was all because of the fever
.

“Here we are,” Jason said quietly when they reached the clearing.

“Oh, man, what happened to the tent?” asked Jenna. It was lying in a heap at the edge of the woods.

“The wind must've blown it down,” Jason replied. “I'll go pull out the pegs. You shouldn't, like, exert yourself or anything. Dr. Mom said so.”

Jenna smiled. As Jason worked on the tent, she wandered around the clearing, looking for anything they might have dropped in the darkness.

“Jenna?” Jason called. “Jenna, you should—can you come here? Now?”

Jenna crossed the clearing and stood next to Jason as he held up the tent. A terrible gash had nearly ripped it in two. Then something fell to the ground at Jenna's feet. She reached down, slowly, and picked it up.

A razor-sharp talon, speckled with dried blood.
More syrup?
Jenna thought bitterly.
More food coloring? And just when I thought Jason had changed—

“Jason,” she breathed. “Why? Why would you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Hide the talon in the torn tent. Try to scare me.”

Jason shook his head. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out another talon.

The one that Jenna had found in the woods, two weeks ago.

The talon that had started all this.

A sick, sinking sense of dread washed over Jenna; her eyes met Jason's, and a look of unbearable understanding passed between them. She forced herself to take a closer look at the two talons. They were identical, except that the one she had just found was splattered with … was it her blood? Or the Marked Monster's?

As if Jenna and Jason could read each other's thoughts, they dropped the talons in the dirt and started to run from the clearing as fast as they could.

It didn't matter, though.

They could never outrun the scratching, coming from deep within the woods, where some … thing … waited.

It was patient.

It would wait as long as it took.

It was very early on Saturday morning, and while most other kids were sleeping, Whitney Van Lowe was wide awake, and very busy.

She was unpacking her dolls, which were each in individual plastic boxes inside a larger cardboard box. Each time she opened one, it was like a reunion with an old friend. She felt a special responsibility to make the dolls comfortable in her new home.

“Penelope! I know you don't like being in your box for so long. But see, here you are in the fresh air again. Look, here's your new spot. Right next to your good friend Irene,” Whitney spoke soothingly to a doll wearing a sailor suit. “You're all so lucky you don't have to go to school. I know you must hate moving around, but
imagine what it's like being me. I'm always the new girl, and I have to work so hard to make new friends.”

Whitney looked at one doll in a Mexican embroidered dress. “What, Rosa?” she asked. “Yes, well, it's not as easy as it looks.” She paused as if the doll was responding, and then she replied. “Gracias. I think you're a really good friend too!” She sighed. “I'll be back, everyone. I've got to go downstairs for breakfast.”

She paused at the door, looking down at all her dolls lined up on the floor. “The name of our new town is Westbrook, everyone, remember?” she spoke like a teacher addressing a class. “It's in Connecticut. The town of Westbrook is on the beach. The body of water is Long Island Sound, and our new house is in the woods. This region of the United States is called New England. Why do you think it's called New England?” She paused.

“That's right, because English settlers moved here and started colonies.” She smiled lovingly at her dolls. “Okay, there's obviously something more important that I haven't said.” She sounded serious.

“I know I had to pack you in your boxes really fast. It must have been very shocking and scary. And I do know I wasn't very gentle. I'm very sorry about that. But you
know that's not the way I would have done it if it had been up to me.”

She took a deep breath, and her face clouded over. “I think you know that it was up to my dad, and I think you also know that he can't be trusted.”

Then she went downstairs, which looked like Box City. There were towers of boxes everywhere. Her dad had set up his laptop on the kitchen table and was reading something, his brow furrowed. Whitney saw him, but he didn't see her. A strange look flickered across her face as she glimpsed what was on the computer screen.

“Are you reading about Wisconsin again?” Whitney asked.

Her dad quickly closed the laptop cover. He tried to smile, but his worried expression remained. Whitney nodded knowingly. “I know you're concerned about what happened in Wisconsin,” she said. “But don't worry. All that's in the past now. All I'm ever going to say about that state is that they make great cheese. And speaking of cheese, what's for breakfast?”

What does the Marked Monster look like? Why don't you and your friends draw it together? Have one friend start by drawing the monster's head, then have another friend draw its body, another its wings, and so on.

Do you want to turn your sleepover into a creepover? Telling a spooky story is a great way to set the mood. P. J. Night has written a few sentences to get you started. Fill in the rest of the story and have fun scaring your friends.

You can also collaborate with your friends on this story by taking turns. Have everyone at your sleepover sit in a circle. Pick one person to start. She will add a sentence or two to the story, cover what she wrote with a piece of paper leaving only the last word or phrase visible, and then pass the story to the next girl. Once everyone has taken a turn, read the scary story you created together aloud!

I remember it like it was yesterday. One minute I was walking through the bright, cheery woods on a lovely spring day. The next, storm clouds had gathered overhead and I could hear rumbling. But it wasn't the rumbling of thunder. It was the sound
of something running behind me, pounding the earth below it. Something big. I began to run as fast as I could, but I could feel it gaining on me. I turned around and saw it. It was …