Faces of Fear

away.

She pushed on toward the bar, but just before she got there, her stomach suddenly knotted, she tasted bile in the back of her mouth, and for a horrible moment she was certain she was about to throw up right here in the middle of the jammed warehouse. But the nausea passed as quickly as it had come on.

Kimberly took another step toward the bar, and her knees began to wobble.

“You okay?” a voice asked.

The voice sounded impossibly close and yet at the same time very far away. The words reverberated inside her head, jumbling with the music, which was so loud she could actually see it, surrounding her with brilliantly colored waves, while the drums pounded at her until her whole body felt as if it were being attacked.

Though she felt weird — almost as if she’d been snorting coke with the other girls in the restroom — she tried to nod. Apparently, even that one beer she’d drunk had been too much for her, and now she couldn’t even nod her head right. She tried to speak but couldn’t make her lips form words. All that came out was a garbled moan.

“Come on,” the voice said. “You need some air.”

Yes. Air. All I need is a little air.

She felt a strong arm come around her and guide her toward the nearest door, but by the time they got there, her legs were starting to give out. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to keep her feet underneath her and stand on her own. But it would be all right, she thought; in a few more seconds they’d be outside, and whoever was helping her would take her to Jennifer’s car, where she’d lie down in the backseat and wait until the dance was over.

But when the door closed behind them, the stranger didn’t stop, let alone ask her if she had a car. Instead she was half steered and half carried toward the back of the parking lot. She wanted to protest, but even as she tried to speak, the last of her strength deserted her and every muscle in her body went completely slack.

This isn’t happening. How could this be happening? I was so careful.

I’m going to be raped.

Oh God, her mother had been right all along. She never should have come here — she should have listened to her mother, and to Jennifer. She should—

Don’t hurt me, she begged silently, forming the words in her mind, but unable to say them aloud. Please don’t hurt me.

Oh, Mommy, I’m sorry.

I should have listened.

I’m…so…sorry.

JENNIFER’S HEAD WAS THROBBING, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the relentless pounding of the music or from the second drink she’d let Dirk, or Derek, or whatever his name was, buy her. Either way, it was time to go home. The rave hadn’t turned out to be as much fun as she’d thought it would be, and for the last half hour she’d been keeping an eye out for Kimberly, but between the flashing lights and the haze of smoke hanging in the room, she wasn’t sure she’d have recognized Kim if she were ten feet away. Now, as Dirk — or Derek, or whatever — tried to guide her hand through his open fly, she decided it was time to find Kim and go home. Giving the guy a couple of kisses in return for the drink was one thing, but that was as far as it would go.

Pulling her hand away from his grip, she looked at her watch and feigned shock at the time. “Jeez — my mom’s going to kill me!” she yelled, her words instantly lost in the din of the music. “Gotta go!” Pulling her hand free, she spun away from the boy before he even realized what was happening and started working her way through the crowd, realizing for the first time just how big the room was and how hard it was going to be to find Kimberly.

She finally came to the bar by the front door and paused to try to get a whiff of fresh air. Once again she scanned the crowd. The bright yellow tank top Kim had been wearing shouldn’t have been hard to spot, but the lights made all the colors look different, and she couldn’t see anything that looked even faintly yellow. As she plunged back into the mob, which was now throbbing to a pounding rhythm, she felt hands groping her, stroking her arms, caressing her butt and even her breasts. “C’mon, baby,” someone whispered in her ear. “I got some black beauties.” Jennifer rolled her eyes, twisted her arm loose from the guy’s grip, and moved on.

Crap! They should have had a code or something. Or a signal, or even just a set time to meet up and check in with each other.

The music and lights and smoke were starting to get to her now, and besides the throbbing in her head, she was feeling nauseous. What she’d told the boy was turning into the absolute truth — all she wanted to do now was go home.

But she couldn’t just leave Kimberly here.

She slapped away another anonymous hand in the crowd and headed for the door. At least she could get a little fresh air, and if she threw up, she’d be in the parking lot, which was a lot better than hurling in the middle of the party.

And who knew? Maybe she’d even find Kim out there.

But before she got to the door, she heard the wailing of police sirens, and by the time she pushed her way outside, blue and red lights were flashing in the lot.

The band stopped playing, and suddenly there was an air of panic as people surged for the doors.

Swell! Now she was going to get busted and her parents would have to bail her out of jail. Why had she ever let Kim talk her into this? And where was Kim, anyway?

Then a voice rose above the noise of the crowd of teenagers who were trying to disappear into the night as quickly as possible: “They found a body!”

Jennifer froze, her headache instantly forgotten. A terrible certainty began to descend over her. As the mob swirled and eddied around her, she turned her eyes toward the far end of the parking lot, where the police cars had gathered. Slowly, and as if of their own volition, her feet began to move, carrying her toward the flashing lights as if she were drawn by a magnet. As she drew closer, she saw one of the officers unwinding yellow crime scene tape. Several others were spreading out to block the crowd, and one of them was waving his arms, saying, “Everybody back inside. Nobody can leave just yet.”

Ignoring the order to return to the warehouse, Jennifer kept moving closer until she saw something that stopped her dead in her tracks.

A solitary shoe lay on the gravel, its toe scuffed and bloody.

One of the shoes Kimberly had bought when they were at the mall that afternoon.

Only that afternoon? As her eyes remained fixed on the blue-and-yellow-striped espadrille that had looked adorable with Kim’s new slim-line jeans and yellow tank top, the afternoon suddenly seemed a lifetime ago, a lifetime when the shoes had seemed impossibly cute.

Now the single shoe no longer looked cute. It looked horrible.

Forlorn.

Forgotten.

And ruined: the bow on the toe had been ripped off, the blue and yellow leather scuffed and torn.

Jennifer’s gaze shifted to the area of the parking lot now cordoned off and filled with people. She stooped to pick up the shoe, but before she could touch it someone took her firmly by the wrist and drew her back to her feet. “Don’t touch anything,” the officer said, his voice not unkind.

Jennifer gazed at him, her wide eyes glistening with tears. “It — It belongs to my friend,” she whispered.

“What’s her name?” the policeman asked.

“Kimberly,” she said as she stared at that sad shoe. “Kimberly Elmont. She was here to meet…” Jennifer’s voice trailed off. “I was looking for her,” she finally managed to say. “I wanted to go home, but I couldn’t find her and…” Her voice trailed off once again, and now the policeman took her arm to steady her.

“Come with me,” he said, and led her over to a police car. He opened the back door. “Why don’t you sit down? I’m going to send someone over to talk to you.”

“Is it Kimberly?” Jennifer asked, searching his eyes.

He didn’t answer, but she knew, because even from the backseat she could see that the matching shoe to the one she’d found was on the body that lay on the asphalt.

She put her face in her hands and began crying as grief overwhelmed her.