Authors: Richie Tankersley Cusick
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Friendship, #Horror fiction, #Traffic accidents
"Noel..." Belinda shut her eyes, a cry struggling up from her throat . . . "Oh, God --"
Adam had been watching from the hill that night.
And she had picked up his handkerchief.
And he couldn't afford any witnesses . . . any evidence.
The phone blared, and she screamed, jumping back, the papers scattering over the floor.
It rang . . . and it rang . . . and she stared with wide eyes --
"ril call you as soon as I can."
"Noel," she choked, and she grabbed the phone. "Hello? Hello?"
A dial tone buzzed loudly in her ear. There was no one on the other end.
Yet she could still hear a phone ringing.
Belinda stared down at the receiver, confused.
And then . . . slowly ... it dawned on her.
This must be another line, a private line for Mr. Thome's personal use. Separate from the kitchen phone downstairs.
Trembling all over, she ran back to the kitchen, snatching the receiver up breathlessly, praying he hadn't hung up.
"Noel!" she gasped. "Hello?"
"Is that you, Miss Belinda?" Cobbs sounded surprised.
"Oh, Cobbs, thank God." She was holding the phone so tight, so very tight to keep from dropping it, to keep from falling apart, and her voice came out, a hysterical stranger she didn't know -- "Cobbs, I've got to talk to Noel -- it's important --"
"But he isn't here, miss -- I was just going to ask you where -- "
"But that's impossible," Belinda broke in. "He should have been there by now. Adam called and said he should come --"
"Adam, miss?"
"Yes, at the hospital and --^"
"Mister Adam's not here. There's no one here but me."
Cobbs's voice faded, and Belinda stared at the phone, holding it away from her like something lethal. She could hear her name being repeated over and over again, and as she stood there, frozen, Sasha rose to her feet, hair prickling as she gave a low, deep snarl.
Belinda dropped the phone.
It swung back and forth on its cord . . . banging . . . banging against the wall.
Somewhere in the house a door opened.
And a foot dragged slowly along a hall.
He's in the house.
He's in the house and he's been here the whole time.
Belinda backed up, her hands reaching behind her for the patio doors, her eyes glued in terror on the opposite doorway and the empty corridor beyond. She felt the handle, and her fingers closed around it. She pulled it and it held . . . she gave it a jerk and it swung wide -- with a cry she whirled around --
Adam filled the doorway.
In the half shadows he looked inhuman -- his waxy skin and jaggedly stitched face -- his eyes black holes. . . .
m
There was a look of triumph on his face.
With a scream Belinda jumped back, falling into the counter, knocking herself off balance. As she scrambled out of his reach, Sasha barked and ran into the hall, and BeUnda went after her, bhnd with fear. She could hear Adam laughing, deep in his throat, enjoying her panic. As she reached the entryway and sprang for the door, Sasha suddenly bounded forward --
Right into Noel's outstretched arms.
"Hey, Sasha, what's --" The smile died on his lips as Belinda flung herself against him. As he stared uncomprehendingly, Belinda whirled around and saw that the hall behind her was empty.
"Noel -- he's here --"
"Ssh -- Belinda, what is it? What's -- ?"
"He's here, I tell you, we've got to get out of here!" She grabbed his arm, dragging him to the door. ''Adam! He was right behind me -- I swear it -- oh, God, Noel, we've got to get help -- he's going to kill us -- I thought it was just me -- but I found the will -- he wants to get rid of you, too --"
"Kill --" Noel's face looked pale and stricken. "Behnda -- wait -- what --"
"I found the will -- if your parents die, everything goes to you and to Adam. Oh, Noel, don't you see, last night on the road -- Adam was trying to kill you so he could get all the money! He did cause the wreck that night -- just like you thought. He killed his own father just hke he did his aunt and uncle --"
"My God -- BeUnda --"
And she was tugging on him, trying to pull him out the door, her eyes fixed wide on the hall, knowing at any second that Adam's face would come out of the shadows --
"Don't you see? I found his handkerchief -- it has his initial in the corner -- he knows I can identify him with it --"
"The handkerchief," Noel said woodenly.
''Please!" Belinda shoved him again but he seemed stunned, gaping at her hke he couldn't believe what was happening. "Noel -- he's going to kill us -- we've got to go to the police -- now!"
"His initial," Noel mumbled.
"The A at the top -- Adam was the one I saw on the hill that night -- he was watching the car bum -- he's a murderer, don't you understand --
a--"
And then she saw Noel staring.
And even before she turned around... she knew.
Adam's face was watching them from the darkness of the hallway.
And then, to her horror, he moved out into the light.
The cane was gone. He wasn't limping.
"The handkerchief," he said softly. 'With the letter A."
Behnda had never been so terrified. She grabbed Noel's arm; it felt stiff and cold. His eyes were pinned on Adam's mutilated face, as if strangely hypnotized.
"The man on the hill," Adam laughed, and it was
a soft, humorless laugh. "The one watching."
"You were supposed to have it done by now," Noel said.
Adam came closer. He was holding an icepick, and he was smiling. "The one whose name starts with A."
"She thinks it's you, Adam," Noel said.
*Well, I never did have a face that people trusted. Not like yours . . . Noel Ashby."
And as Belinda's heart stopped, as she looked up into Noel's solemn brown eyes, she felt his arm pull away from her touch.
"Put her in the car," Noel said quietly. "It's time for a little reunion."
"It was you, Noel," Belinda said numbly. "You were the one watching that night -- the one on the hill. It was your handkerchief, not Adam's. But . . . why?"
"It was so perfect," Adam muttered. "Noel's idea . . . and so damn perfect. Everything timed . . . right down to the exact second . . . the exact spot on the road. And then we came across you. Even after I passed your car, you kept right on my tail . . . and then . . ."A look of bewilderment crossed his face. "Everyone in the car started to panic -- I couldn't concentrate -- the place I should -have jumped out -- somehow I passed it -- and then --"
"Get in the car," Noel said. "Let's get this thing over with."
"What are you going to do to me?" Belinda asked fearfully.
Adam's hand went to his face. "Noel couldn't even check to see if I was all right. You wouldn't leave. You wouldn't leave, but you wouldn't help."
198 #
"I wanted to help," Belinda cried. "I tried to help, but they wouldn't let me -- and -- and the car --"
"Blew," Adam nodded. "I know. I watched it. I watched it, and I tried to hold my face together. . . ."He put the icepick to her cheek and trailed it, ever so softly, over her skin. "Have you ever had your face sliced open? Do you know how it feels?"
**We're wasting time," Noel said. He backed toward the door. He looked pale and strained and impatient.
"Rip . . . rip . . . rip." As he spoke, Adam moved the point gently back and forth over Belinda's face. "And you try to scream, but there's blood, choking you . . . and you try to see . . . you try to breathe . . . and there's just blood. And you wonder if you even look human anymore --"
"I wanted to help," Belinda whispered.
Adam laughed softly. "You wanted to help. Teaching me English and math . . . feeling sorry for me." His eyes flared for an instant, then just as quickly died. "Sloppy job," he whispered. "Sloppy, sloppy job. I almost didn't make it out of there, you know that? You almost killed me. On my birthday. April first. That's right, Belinda. April ^rsf. What a way to celebrate, huh? Over the cliff -- and I'm a millionaire! But I almost didn't live to be eighteen. And all because of you."
"I didn't mean -- you've got to believe --"
**We're going," Noel said. "We're going right now. I mean it."
"I never forget," Adam gave a wry smile. "I never forget, and I never forgive." The smile widened. "But I don't like to rush, either. It's so much more pleasant to just take my time -- that way it goes right, the way it's supposed to."
"Please," Belinda began, but he shoved her out the door.
"Go on. Let's take a ride."
She wasn't even aware of getting into the car. She felt hands on her, pushing her, rough hands with grips like steel -- and suddenly there were houses going by, houses with lights on in windows, where everyone inside was safe. ...
"You should have let me do it my way," Adam sighed. "It would have been a lot more fun."
"Shut up." Noel steered the car expertly through the hazy streets, his eyes calm as he scanned the sidewalks, missing nothing. Wedged in between them, Belinda felt the merciless hold of Adam's arm around her shoulders, and she felt like she was going to faint. He was amazingly strong for his slender-ness. She thought of the snake in her bed, the snake around Adam's neck that night, their supple bodies pulsing with brick-hard muscle . . . how simple for them, to crush and to kill. . . .
"Where's Hildy?" She'd wanted to ask for so long, had been so afraid of the answer.
On her left side, Noel glanced at Adam, but only with mild curiosity.
Adam smiled. "Don't worry. You'll all be together again before you know it."
Belinda squeezed her eyes shut . . . forced horrible images away. "And Frank? They're alive?"
"Let's just say ..." Adam thought a moment -- "for the time being."
Over her head Adam looked at Noel, but when Noel didn't reply, Adam's eyes slid back to the road. Other than the whisper of tires on wet pavement, there was no sound. Behnda tried to move her cramped arms, and Adam's grip immediately tightened. She bit her lip and forced back a scream.
"I trusted you, Noel," she said softly.
In the pale glow of passing lights, Noel's cheeks tightened, his mouth pressing into a hard line. He stepped on the accelerator and swerved around a curve, throwing Belinda hard into Adam. Adam's eyes went over her in warning.
"People will know," she said at last. "My mother saw us leave together, she --"
One of Adam's hands crept around her neck . . . the other pressed the icepick into her side. She cried out in pain and surprise.
"Stop it," Noel said calmly to Adam. "Don't do anything to her yet."
"Then make her be quiet."
"They'll catch you," Belinda said. "Sooner or later --"
"No one will catch us," Adam corrected her. "No one will catch us because no one will know. And by the time they find you and your friends ..."
'Where are we going?" Belinda's eyes strained through the night. "Where are you taking me?"
"I wish you hadn't been there," Noel said suddenly. His hands tightened on the wheel and he
sounded angry. "I wish you'd never gotten involved."
"I told you this was business," Adam said irritably. "Don't apologize to her."
"She wasn't driving," Noel said, and Adam's glance was sharp. "She wasn't driving the car. The other girl was."
"It doesn't matter," Adam said. "They're all responsible for what happened."
"It wasn't your fault," Noel said to Belinda, but not unkindly. "I saw you get out. You tried to help, but you couldn't."
"Stop talking to her," Adam said. He pressed harder on Belinda's windpipe and she gagged. "It's all timing, you know. Like a well-planned stunt." His voice went chillingly calm. "I pick them up from the airport... I drive them back home . . . except they never get home because the car misses a curve. . . ." His eyes angled down, full of hate. "But if the stunt's off by a split second, then someone gets hurt. First you get in our way... and the old man doesn't die right then -- he doesn't die in the fire like he's supposed to. And dear old Gloria. Can you beheve it? It should have been different ... it shouldn't have ended up like this --"
"Frank kept grabbing the wheel," Belinda was pleading now, trying to make him understand. "He was playing a joke -- Hildy and I tried to stop him --"
"So perfect. So many times on that road, I knew it by heart. Just where I could jump out and the car could go over." Adam half smiled. "I've done it
before, you know, rm very good at it." His fingers tensed, and she began to cough.
"Stop," BeUnda whimpered, "you're hurting
me--"
"Let her go, Adam," Noel said.
"But it was easy to find you," Adam seemed calmer now, reasonable. "Yes, it was real easy to find you. That high school sticker on your car . . . and your stupid friends shouting your name -- Noel saw all of it -- heard all of it -- he was following me... coming to pick me up." Adam looked amused. "And then you advertised everywhere in town . . , like you wanted me to find you, you know? And that stupid hbrarian even showed Noel your picture. Yes . . . you were easy to find."
"You're the one," Behnda looked up at Noel. "You're the one who was asking questions about
me --"
"But we couldn't be sure," Adam went on, rubbing his finger over his upper lip. He ran the icepick slowly down her side, puncturing her blouse . . . piercing her skin. "We couldn't be sure how much you knew . . . that's why we had to watch you . . . get to know you. And you didn't know about my car, so it was easy to follow you."
Noel turned off the road. They were heading out of town now, up into the hills. It was darker here . . . not a car in sight.
"But the handkerchief." Adam shook his head. "You picked up Noel's handkerchief, and now you know what happened --"
"I've never told anyone about that night." Belinda grasped at straws. "And I won't tell anyone -- not ever --"
Noel's glance silenced her. "You told me."
He stopped the car and opened his door.
"Get out," he said.
This isn't real . . . this isn't happening.