CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

In dreams, no one can hear you scream, and so nobody heard Jenn scream as she ran down long, narrow hallways populated with misshapen predatory monsters, faces twisted in hate. Some held out garish pumpkins carved into howling faces with teeth long and fanged, sharp knives looking for soft flesh to bite and maim.

“Jennica,” someone called. She slowed her run and looked up to see Meredith. Her aunt’s face was weathered yet kind, and she looked both sad and happy to see her. “Jennica, don’t run away. I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re not who I’m worried about,” Jenn replied.

Her aunt’s lips split, revealing a set of inhuman fangs. “Maybe you should be.”

In a flash Meredith reached out and grabbed Jenn’s arm. Black talons curled around the soft flesh just below Jennica’s wrist. Meredith growled, pulling her niece into a bear hug. “Some things are not what they appear.”

Jennica screamed—

She woke up panting. Nick’s hand slipped up her arm and gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“What’s the matter?” he asked groggily.

Jenn propped herself up on an elbow and looked around. She was on the couch of his apartment. On the table in front of them lay her aunt’s Ouija board, which caused the events of the past two days to all come rushing back. God, just twenty-four hours ago they had found Brian’s body. And then had been the day with the police, and finally the drive down here . . .

“Bad dream,” she answered.

“Mmmm,” Nick said. “I wish it was all just a bad dream.” She turned over. His brown eyes glinted up at her. Jenn hugged him, pulling him as tight as she could. He’d just lost his best friend. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He returned the embrace and they lay that way for a long time.

When they finally got off the couch and took turns in the bathroom, the sun was up and the apartment bright with morning light. Nick made coffee.

“I can offer you coffee and cornflakes,” he said after padding about the kitchen and performing a cabinet inventory. He moved to the refrigerator, speculating, “We might have some eggs.”

He was barefoot, his hair still tousled from sleep, and he wore gray jogging shorts and a faded blue T-shirt with holes. She thought he looked adorable as he began to look for other offerings.

“Call off the search,” she laughed. “I skip breakfast half the time. Cornflakes would be great, though.”

He got bowls, the milk and a box, and he returned to the table to serve. They ate in silence. Jenn hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the sound of flakes hitting the bowl elicited a growl from her stomach.

“What do you want to do today?” Nick finally asked.

Jennica shrugged. “I was about to ask you the same thing. I’m pretty open.”

“Well, I should go to work,” Nick said. “But I think I’m going to call in sick.”

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

“My roommate was killed, I think they’ll cut me some slack,” he said. “I should go over to see Brian’s mom, speaking of that. But first I can show you and Kirstin the lay of the land. Might as well know where you’re at if you’re going to be here a couple days.”

“Speaking of which,” Jenn said, pushing the kitchen chair back. “She’s a slugabed by nature, but I can’t believe she’s asleep. Not after yesterday. I’m gonna go check.”

She walked down the hall. The door to Brian’s room was half-open, so she pushed it a little wider and poked her head inside. The sheets and blanket were twisted in a rumpled mess halfway down the mattress, but Kirstin was not in the bed.

Jenn looked around the room to confirm. There was no adjoining bath, so she couldn’t be there. The hall bathroom was empty, too. She poked her head into Nick’s bedroom. The bed there was still made, unslept in.

Panic began to gnaw at her as she walked back through the living room to the kitchen. Only Nick’s expectant face greeted her.

“She’s gone,” she announced.

“Gone?” Nick said. His brow rose in puzzlement.

“Gone,” Jenn repeated. “As in, Kirstin is not in this apartment.”

“You checked the bathroom?”

She nodded, but he got up and repeated the walk she’d just taken.

“She probably just went for a walk,” he suggested as they returned to the kitchen.

“But we’ve been awake for more than an hour,” she said. Her voice trembled.

“Maybe she couldn’t get back into the building,” Nick suggested. “The front door locks. C’mon, let’s see if she’s waiting outside.”

“She would have hit the buzzer,” Jenn argued.

Nick shrugged. “She probably doesn’t remember my last name, which is the only one listed. She wouldn’t know which button to push.”

Going to the door, he noted, “The door’s unlocked.”

Jenn blinked. “Was it that way all night?”

He shook his head. “I remember locking it after we came in.”

They walked down the single flight of stairs to the foyer. Nick moved ahead of Jenn, pushing open the front door to look outside. But Jenn slowed and bent down as she saw something on the floor of the lobby.

“Nick?” she called.

He heard the fear in her voice. Stepping quickly back inside he said, “Don’t see her out there. What’s wrong?”

But he knew before he finished. His eyes followed the index finger of Jenn’s right hand, which pointed to the corner. A pile lay atop a phone book near the mailboxes, triangles and thin slivers of pale pumpkin flesh. They looked smeared with something dark.

“Oh my God,” Jenn whispered. “Please, no.”

Holding a hand to her mouth, she dropped to her knees and picked up a piece of pumpkin. It was cool to the touch but damp. Nick knelt with her.

“Why?” Jenn whispered. “Why is he doing this to us?”

“This is insane,” Nick agreed. They stared at the pumpkin pieces for a couple minutes as Jenn cried, but he finally took her arm and pulled her up. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go back upstairs.”

“And do what?” Jenn asked.

“Wait for her? Maybe this is only a warning. We didn’t find her body. She may still be alive.”

Jenn shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“At least there’s some hope,” he offered, pulling her to the stairs. “We need to call the police.”

Jenn laughed. “And what are you going to tell them—that someone we didn’t see kidnapped a girl who doesn’t live here and left behind a pile of pumpkin pieces in the lobby?”

“Well, we could call the police in River’s End. They would know what to make of it.”

“We’d call them for a crime in San Francisco?” Jenn asked. “Um, no. And the police here will just think we’re nuts. Or, worse, they’ll wonder if you’re cracking and confessing to killing your best friend. I think we’d spend the day being interrogated. Maybe they wouldn’t even let us go.”

Nick led them back into his apartment. He made a point of carefully locking the door, but he didn’t say anything.

“No, the police can’t help us,” Jenn continued. “We have to stop this ourselves.” She paused and shook her head. “Myself. This is my problem. It’s not yours.”

“I’m going to help you, whatever you do,” Nick promised.

“The best way you can help me is to take me back to River’s End. That’s where this all started, and I have a feeling that somehow, in my aunt’s house, is the way to make it end.”

“We should at least look for Kirstin,” he suggested. “We should look around here. Be absolutely sure.”

Jenn nodded, but she didn’t hold much hope. Her stomach boiled in a mix of horrible sadness and anger. The

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