They All Fall Down (22 page)

“I bet it opens, then,” he says, pushing on the wall.

I can’t help but laugh. “A secret door, like in the movies?”

He flattens his hands and shoves, the sound of stone scraping stone making him freeze and me take in a breath.

“
Just
like in the movies.” His smile is smug as I scramble to my feet to peek through the door.

Neither of us says a word.

This is no cave or grave. This is nothing anyone would ever dream would be underground in a forest.

“What is this place?” he says, but I still can’t answer as I take it all in.

The room is huge, the size of a basketball court, with a high ceiling and shadows in every corner cast by dim light from ornate wall sconces that are clearly running on electricity. The focal point is a large round table with elaborately carved highback chairs that give the place a medieval-castle feel. The table is freakishly shiny—good God, is it made of gold?

But it’s the walls that pull my attention. They are covered with tapestries and artwork and framed manuscripts and carved busts. Everything is museum quality—everything is
real
.

Roman swords, glass boxes of leather-bound manuscripts, weavings and paintings and something that looks like the wide leather belt of a gladiator.

My classics training kicks in when I see a carving I recognize from an art history video I had to study before Regionals. That’s Mithras, an ancient Roman god. All I remember is that they worshiped him in underground temples, which eventually became part of the catacombs.

“Mack, look.”

Levi’s behind me, staring at the center of the table. I join him to read the raised letters.

NIHIL RELINQUERE ET NIHIL VESTIGI

CHAPTER XXII

H
ours later, long after Levi and I made our way out—like, hauled ass at warp speed because the place was creepy as hell—I am still thinking about all I saw and experienced.

We said goodbye, and now I’m lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling after dinner with Mom, working it all out. Or not, as the case may be. I’m fixated on one terrifying thought I don’t want to have: the guy in the truck, who was following me or Josh or that coin, has something to do with Olivia’s and Chloe’s accidents.

If they were accidents.

And if he has something to do with them, then that coin and that eerie place might, too. Maybe I should do that ropes course, if only to find out more about—

“Hey.”

I jump a foot at the voice, rolling over and blinking at Molly in my bedroom doorway. “Holy crap, you scared me.”

She doesn’t move, searching my face. “I texted you, like, seventeen times.”

Four, actually. And I just couldn’t deal with being normal around Molly since being normal around Mom had taken it out of me tonight. I dig for a smile and wave her in. “Sorry. I was out all day—”

“With Josh.”

I nod slowly, not sure how she knows that. “Yeah, for a while.”

“And Tyler Griffith.”

“He was there.” I sit up and frown, not sure why Molly sounds so weird. “Are you okay?” I ask.

She stops a few feet from my bed. “Are you?”

Not really, but I’m not ready to admit that to her. “Fine. What’s up with you?”

“What’s up with
you
?” she fires back.

“Molly.” My heart races as I take in the anger and uncertainty on her face. Could she know … anything? “Are you mad at me?”

She widens her eyes and gives me a “get real” look. Definitely mad.

“What did I do?”

“Kenzie, you skipped school with Josh Collier and Tyler Griffith, two of the hottest—and coolest—guys I may ever know. And
you didn’t invite me
.”

I almost laugh, but of course I don’t. If only she knew just how dangerous and not fun that little adventure turned out to be. “It was no big deal,” I lie. Because it was a big deal and I am not about to tell her that.

“No big deal?” Her voice rises. “I’ll tell you what is a big
deal. The deal we had. You get cool and popular and start hanging out with kids who are at the top of the food chain and you bring me along. Remember? Coattails? Train? Best friends?”

She finally flops onto the bed and lets out a sigh.

“Molly, I’m sorry, it really wasn’t that much fun.”

“Oh, right. Driving around—during school—in Josh’s million-dollar Audi isn’t fun.”

“It wasn’t,” I assure her. “He drives like a freaking lunatic.”

She doesn’t seem appeased. “But Tyler Griffith? He’s so hot. I could have double-dated.”

“He’s a jerk,” I say. “I really had no idea he could be such a major douche-bag.”

Deflated, she gets more comfortable on the bed. “Where’d you go?”

“Wheeling.”

“West Virginia?” Her eyes pop. “Why?”

“They wanted booze.”

“Did you drink?”

I shake my head, my mind whirring. How much should I tell her? The story is long and complicated and kind of unbelievable. The truck, the chase, the coin.
Levi
. The idea of sharing it seems overwhelming, and I don’t want to.

“So what did you do?” she presses, getting closer. “Did you make out with Josh? Is he your boyfriend now?”

“No.” I can’t keep the hint of disgust from my voice.

“Don’t you like him? He’s so cute.”

“Cute isn’t everything, but he has his moments.”

“I hear he’s having some kids over to his house tonight.” She gives me a hopeful look and then gestures toward her clothes,
which I only now notice are pretty cute for a school night at home. “Can we go?”

I frown and shake my head. “I don’t know anything about this. How do you?”

As soon as I ask the question, I regret it. Her eyes look hurt. “God, Kenzie, you’re not the only one with Facebook friends. I got some spillover from your newfound popularity, remember?”

“I haven’t been on Facebook since I got home.”

“You think we can go?”

“To Josh’s house?” That might be the last place on earth I want to go. “My mom would never let me.” And for once, I’m grateful.

“Just tell her you’re coming over to my house.”

“I don’t want to go,” I say honestly. “I have a ton of homework, and—”

My phone buzzes with a text. Instinct tells me it’s Levi, who I’ve been texting on and off all evening. When I don’t pick it up right away, she reaches for the phone. “Here—”

I grab it from her, not ready for a lecture about the dangers of Levi Sterling.

“Sorry!” She opens her hand and dramatically lets go. “It’s not like I haven’t read your texts before.” She angles her head and adds a meaningful look. “Before the list.”

“Stop it, Molly. Nothing’s changed.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It hasn’t.”

“Then who just texted you?”

I flip the phone over and read the name. “It’s …”

“Amanda Wilson,” she says out loud, reading over my shoulder. “Is she your new BFF now?”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Molly.” I touch the screen to read the text. “I barely know her.”

Emergency meeting of the Sisters of the List TONIGHT.

“The Sisters of the List?” Molly almost gags on the phrase. “Who
says
that?”

Our favorite joke question sounds real, and pained. “I told you, it’s just a … thing.”

“Is that seriously what you call yourselves now?” she demands. “A sister with girls like Amanda Wilson and Kylie Leff?”

“Five minutes ago you wanted to go to a party with them,” I shoot back, irritated and wishing I could just text Amanda without being drilled.

“Kenzie.” Her voice lifts in a little whine. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are
you
doing this?” I demand. The phone buzzes again with another text. I force myself to look at Molly and not the message. I can’t remember the last time we had a fight. Sixth grade? Seventh? But why is she acting like a baby? “I’m not allowed to have other friends?”

“You promised you’d bring me along.” She crosses her arms, a challenge in the eyes that rarely look at me in any way but with friendship. “You promised.”

“I know, but I’m not going anywhere tonight.” Another text comes in and I lose the battle, touching the screen to see this one is from Dena.

Want me to pick you up? I can be there in 10 min.

Of course, Molly reads it. “Dena Herbert?” she asks.

I nod, tapping Reply. “I’m not going anywhere tonight,” I say again, more forcefully this time.

“Even if I go with you?”

I look up from the phone without having typed a text. “Molly, I don’t want to go.”

“You don’t want to go with me,” she says.

“That’s not true. I don’t want to go out tonight.”

“Because I’m not a
Sister of the List
.” She mocks the name, and with good reason. But her hurt and anger and jealousy aren’t funny right now. I just look down at the phone as another text comes in, this one from Bree Walker.

Candace almost died tonight. We have to meet!
DO NOT TELL ANYONE OR YOU COULD BE NEXT.

Instinctively, I angle the phone away from Molly, staring at the words.

“I saw that,” she says softly.

“You did?”
Candace almost died?
My throat closes with fear. I have to know what happened.

“I saw ‘do not tell anyone’ in caps.” She pushes off the bed. “I suppose that includes your BFF.”

“Molly, come on. This is …” Bigger, worse, and scarier than she could ever understand. “This is …” A matter of life and death.

“I know what this is,” she says, backing away. “This is you blowing me off so you can hang with much cooler girls.”

I shake off all the fear that’s gripping me and give Molly my full attention. “This is not something you can understand easily.”

She coughs and says, “Oh my God,” rolling her eyes. “Of course, only the
Sisters of the List
can understand.”

“I mean it, Molly. I’ll explain it to you later, but now I …”
Can’t tell anyone or I might be next
.

Not that I believe that for one minute, but I can’t completely disregard the warning.

“Whatever, Kenzie. Do what you have to do. I’m going home.”

“Molly, please, if I could take you, I would. I swear I would.”

She turns on her way out, a world of pain in her expression. “Then why don’t you?”

Because what if she got hurt? What if she was somehow in danger? What if I was responsible for that? An old familiar ache takes hold. “Because I can’t,” I say simply as the text buzzes again. I ignore it, looking hard at Molly, praying she somehow understands and forgives me.

“Better get your phone, sister,” she says, turning back to the door.

“Molly, please.”

But she doesn’t hesitate, leaving without another word. I stay still for a moment, then pick up the phone to read the text from Dena.

Pick you up in 10?

I type one word in response:
Yes
.

Mom buys that I’m going outside to ride back to Molly’s house with her so we can do homework together. First I pray Mom doesn’t come outside to wait with me; then I pray that Molly doesn’t come running back to make up after I’m gone. Because that would turn my mother into a screaming, police-contacting lunatic who doesn’t know where I am.

But Molly was pretty mad and I doubt she’s coming back
tonight, so I take the chance and hop into Dena’s ancient Subaru that smells vaguely like gym clothes and Gatorade. She’s dressed in sweats, and tells me she just left volleyball practice. But she still manages to look pretty.

“What happened to Candace?” I ask.

“She damn near drowned in her bathtub. Wait till you see her hair.”

“Oh my God,” I mutter, turning in the seat to face her. “What happened to her hair?”

“Her mom had to chop it off to save her life. She was in her mom’s Jacuzzi taking a bath and her hair got sucked into the bubbly thing and it pulled her under. If her mother hadn’t walked into the bathroom …” She closes her eyes and blows out a shaky breath. “We are all in such trouble, Kenzie. We have to do something. We have to stop this.”

“Why don’t we go to the cops?”

“Because they don’t investigate
curses that cause unavoidable accidents
. And before you say anything, yes, I’m buying into it.”

“Oh, Dena.” I’m disappointed to lose my only ally on the “curses are ridiculous” side of the issue. “There’s no such thing,” I say, but even I can hear the doubt in my voice. Could there be a curse?

“Oh, yeah? Then tell me how come all this weird shit is happening to us? No one was in the bathroom holding Candace under. No one made my cat chew a wire that damn near electrocuted me. No one stuffed peanuts into Chloe’s allergic mouth.”

“You don’t know that.”

She fires a look at me. “Do you?”

“I don’t … Maybe.” I look out the window, half expecting
to see the truck. In the distance behind us, I see headlights, much too small and close together to be a truck’s. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Shannon’s dead grandmother’s trailer.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Don’t knock a good inheritance.” She veers onto a highway that heads toward Pittsburgh. “Most grandmas leave you their knitting collections when they kick. Shannon got her very own trailer in the country that she can move into when she’s eighteen. Until then, we go there to party sometimes.”

“This is hardly a party,” I say dryly.

We drive in silence and I try to memorize where we’re going, a slow, low burn of worry building in me. Periodically, I look behind us and every once in a while I see headlights, but they are way in the distance.

We cross a bridge, cut through a rural area, and eventually turn off onto a narrow road that looks like it leads into utter darkness. “Where are we going?”

“Here.” She pulls into a long dirt drive tucked between huge oak trees and the car jolts, kicking up gravel, until the lights finally shine on an ancient double-wide surrounded by nothing but dirt, grass, and a few abandoned appliances.

The three other cars parked there look completely out of place, yet familiar. I recognize Amanda’s silver SUV and Candace’s bright-green cube-shaped thing as we park and walk to the dimly lit mobile home.