Fear: 13 Stories of Suspense and Horror (17 page)

“Uh-huh,” Nina said. Sometimes she said “uh-huh” to Angie, instead of “huh,” to vary her responses. The only reason she bothered responding at all was that Angela's mother was Nina's boss. Nina thought Angela was spoiled beyond belief. Look at the thing with the stool. Angela hadn't once offered to let Nina sit on it. In four hours. “Hang on a minute.”

Nina picked up the phone and dialed the number for the Calder Mall radio station. When Jerry at the desk picked up, she said, “Hey, it's Nina at Overton's again. When are you guys going to play ‘The Night Hunter' by Witch Hunt?”

“It's next up on the rotation,” Jerry lied. They both knew it was a lie, but Nina said, “Oh, great, thanks, Jerry,” and hung up.

“I mean, it's not that I want to meet him for his money or anything,” Angela went on. “I know his family built this mall and, well, everything in Eastport, practically. It's just . . . he's so cute! Those blue eyes! And I feel so sorry for him, with his parents getting killed last year. I know I could make him feel better.”

I bet you think you could
, Nina thought
. And it has way more to do with his bank account than those blue eyes of his.

Not that Nina knew Ryan Calder that well, either. She'd seen him at a few parties, but had felt weird about approaching him because he'd always been surrounded by girls just like Angie, trying to get into his . . . wallet.

But she knew she'd recognize those piercing eyes of his anywhere—especially since she'd seen them so many times, staring up at her from the pages of the
Eastport News
. There were always photos of him showing up, cutting the ribbon to a new hospital wing paid for by the foundation he'd started in his parents' memory.

“Look,” Angie was saying. “I could give you a lift tomorrow night. To Lauren's. If you want.”

“Can't,” Nina said. “I'm working here tomorrow night.”

“I know,” Angie said. “I meant after work. I'll pick you up and take you to the party.”

“I don't know, Ange,” Nina said idly, leaning on the counter and gazing out of the store, across the atrium, where the mall's waterfall cascaded down from the second floor in front of the glass elevators. Mothers with young children, tired of pushing strollers, often sat there to rest, giving their toddlers pennies to throw into the pool. Across the pool, Eastport Bank was beginning to shut down for the night. Nina watched as the tellers put their CLOSED signs up at their booths. “Your mom's got me on the schedule to do inventory all day. I don't know if I'll feel much like going to a party. I'll probably be pretty tired.” Nina didn't know why she was giving Angela such a hard time.

Maybe it was because Angela hadn't given her a turn on the stool all night.

“Please?” Angela looked desperate. “Look, I'm not invited to Lauren's party. You are. If you go with me tomorrow night, I'll give you a ride home tonight, too. Then you won't have to take the bus home. You know how unsafe it is, waiting all alone at that bus stop here, after all the stores close and everyone goes home.”

Nina did know. That's why she'd been thinking that what she needed was a boyfriend. A boyfriend with a car, who could pick her up after work. It was no use saving up to buy her own car. Thanks to her mom, she needed to save every penny for tuition in the fall.

But a boyfriend . . . that was doable. As she watched Rick, the security guard, begin to pull down the gates in front of the bank, she went over in her head the various boys she knew. Were any of them really boyfriend material? Not so much . . . Nina had her schoolwork to worry about, after all, and this job. She didn't have time to cater to the whims of some guy. Especially some spoiled rich guy like Ryan Calder.

Unless, of course, she ended up with a guy like . . . well, the Night Hunter.

But of course, that was ridiculous. The Night Hunter didn't have a girlfriend. How did the song go?
He rides alone/Just a rolling stone. . . .

Yeah, and rolling stones didn't hang out with high school girls. Even seniors who were only a few credits away from graduating.

But if he'd really saved all those people from those violent criminals, just by showing up at the right time and looking intimidating . . .

“Just say you'll come with me,” Angela said, breaking in on Nina's thoughts. “I'll get to the party, and you'll get home safe. I'll feel a lot less guilty about leaving you waiting at that dark bus stop.”

Nina thought that if Angela were really as nice as she pretended to be, she'd just give her a ride home without making her promise to escort her to Lauren's party first. Nina's house was actually on the way to Angela's, so it wasn't like it would be any trouble.

But she supposed this was how rich people got that way—never giving away anything for free. The Over-tons were among the richest families in Eastport—rumored to be second wealthiest only to Ryan Calder, sole heir to the Calder family fortune now that his parents had been killed in that horrible burglary-gone-awry last year. Yet Nina had noticed Angela was almost always first in line whenever any other store in the mall was having a free giveaway of anything.

“Uh, that's okay,” Nina said, lifting up the phone to call the Calder Mall radio station again, and so end her conversation with Angela. “I'll grab a ride with Katie from the bank, or someone.”

What did she want to go to a stupid party at Lauren's for, anyway? None of those people wanted to hang out with her anymore, now that she was broke. It was better for Angela to learn now that Lauren and those guys—the Ryan Calders of the world—would only be your friend when you were on top of the world. As soon as you hit bottom, like Nina had, thanks to her mom, it was
See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya
.

It was as she was waiting for Jerry to pick up that Nina noticed something curious happening across the atrium. A tall man in a long black trench coat had come striding down the concourse, heading with decided purpose toward the bank, the gates of which Rick hadn't fully pulled down. Something was wrong with his face. At first Nina couldn't figure out what it was.

Then, a second later, she figured it out. He was wearing a mask. A terrible, grinning clown mask. It was as she realized this that the tall man ducked beneath the half-lowered gate in front of the Eastport Bank. When Rick, the security guard, stepped forward to say something to him, the man pulled something long and skinny from the depths of the black leather trench coat and pointed it at him.

That's when Rick put his hands in the air.

“Oh,” Nina cried, a physical shock seeming to jolt through her, not unlike the time she accidentally stuck her finger in the electrical socket while plugging in the toaster. “Oh, my God.”

“This is Jerry,” Jerry said, answering the phone she still held to her ear.

“Oh, my God, Jerry,” Nina said, into the phone. “He's robbing the bank. He—someone's robbing the mall branch of Eastport Bank.”

“Who is this?” Jerry asked. “Nina? Is that you?”

“It's me,” Nina said. Her lips felt numb. She watched as the man with the gun made Rick lie down on the bank floor. “Call nine-one-one. Someone's robbing the bank.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jerry wanted to know. “Is this a joke because I wouldn't play that Night Hunter song?”

“No, it's not a joke,” Nina cried, even as Angela, who'd seen what was going on, had dived behind the counter, and was tugging on Nina's arm to do the same. “It's happening right now. There's a man in a clown mask wearing a black leather trench coat robbing the bank. He has a gun. Call nine-one-one right now! Oh, never mind, I'll do it—”

Slamming the phone down into its cradle, Nina picked it back up and dialed, then handed the phone to Angela, crouched behind the register.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Angela demanded, staring at the phone as if it were a snake about to bite her.

“I'm going out there to see what I can do to help,” Nina said. “Tell nine-one-one what's going on.”

“Are you
insane
?” Angela demanded as Nina slipped out from behind the counter. “It's him! It's the Night Hunter!”

“No, it isn't,” Nina said, instantly incensed. “The Night Hunter
helps
people. He doesn't rob them.”

“But they say he wears a mask! And that guy—”

“Night Hunter wears a mask so he won't be recognized and punished for being a vigilante,” Nina snapped. Of all the people she could have been forced to work with, why did it have to be Angela Overton, the stupidest girl on the planet? “And it's a black mask, not a
clown
mask. Now stay here.”

“Wh-where are you going?” Angela whispered. “What are you going to do? You can't do anything to help those people!
You're
not the Night Hunter!”

Nina wished she were. She wished she were the Night Hunter. She'd stop the man holding up the bank. She'd force her mother to get her college money back from the boyfriend she'd given it to. She'd also have a cool motorcycle to ride around on. The first thing she'd do as the Night Hunter would be to quit working at Overton's.

“I'm not the Night Hunter,” she said. “But I can try to make sure that man doesn't hurt anyone.” The Night Hunter did it. Why couldn't she? Her heart was pounding in her chest. How she was going to do this, she had no idea. “Just talk to the operator. Have they picked up?”

“You're crazy,” Angela said, shaking her head, her eyes glittering. “Just stay here. You can't leave me alone! I . . . I'll tell my mother!”

Through the phone, Nina could hear a voice asking, “Ma'am? Are you there? Ma'am, this is nine-one-one, how can I help you?”

“Tell them what's going on,” Nina said, nodding to the phone Angela still clutched in her hands. “I have to go see what I can do to help. You'll be all right here. Just tell the police to hurry.”

“Don't leave me!” Angela wailed.

But Nina was already walking out of the store and heading around the waterfall and pool toward the bank. It was odd listening to the music playing over the mall's sound system—the light rock Jerry always played when it was late. He'd only put on the good stuff now, when the stores had begun closing, and customers were starting to head home—tonight, while watching a man in a trench coat and clown mask forcing the bank tellers to come out from their booths.

That's Katie,
Nina thought as she saw the man in the mask grab one teller who hadn't moved quickly enough and push her roughly to the floor. Katie just had a baby last spring.

Shoppers were coming toward her end of the mall. And they had kids. Nina knew she had to do something. She had to do something to warn people away from this end of the mall. That's what the Night Hunter would do. He'd try to help. Why hadn't Jerry—stupid Jerry—made an announcement over the sound system? Had he even bothered calling the police?

Then, as she glanced around in desperation, she saw it. Of course. The fire alarm on the wall by the courtesy telephone. This wasn't a fire. But the system would go off mall-wide, and shoppers would know to evacuate. She'd stay put and warn them not to use this exit. . . .

Nina ran for the alarm and pulled it. A split second later, the alarm was sounding in earsplitting whoops, accompanied by flashing strobe lights for the hearing impaired. The shoppers who'd been approaching her end of the mall stopped in their tracks. Waving her arms, she signaled for them to go back the way they'd come. They turned and did so, confused, but obedient.

It was working! She'd done it! She could barely hear herself think, but she'd done it. The bank robber wasn't bound to appreciate it very much, but who cared what
he
thought? She'd saved innocent people from getting caught up in an armed bank heist. Just like the Night Hunter would have done!

She glanced at Overton's to see what Angela was doing, but there was no sign of her. Still hiding behind the register counter. Well, that was all right, as long as she'd let emergency services know what was going on. Inside Eastport Bank, everyone was lying on the floor with their hands over their heads. They all appeared to be breathing. Nina hadn't heard any gunshots. There was no sign of the robber. Nina assumed he was wherever the money was, stuffing it into his pockets or whatever bags he'd brought along. As long as help came soon, she didn't—

That's when the arm—rock hard, like iron—clamped around her throat, and she was dragged backward until she was pressed up against a long, muscular body. Something small and circular was held against her temple.

This, Nina realized, just wasn't her day.

 

 

“Are you the one who set off that damned alarm?” a hoarse voice rasped close beside her ear.

Nina flinched. She didn't need to turn her head to know who had grabbed hold of her. She could see a bit of red clown fluff sticking out past the mask from the corner of one eye. Just like she could see the gun he was pressing to her head.

“Yes,” she managed to croak. It was hard to talk with the man in the trench coat's arm pressing so tightly against her throat. She'd instinctively thrown up both hands in order to try to pull that arm away, but it was no use. It was like trying to move a two-ton boulder. “You'd better get out of here. The police are on their way.”

She hoped.

“Not without a hostage,” Clown Mask hissed. It was kind of hard to hear him over the whooping of the fire alarm. But his mouth was so close to her ear, she could feel his hot breath singeing her skin.

“You really don't want to take me as your hostage,” Nina advised him. “I'd make a terrible hostage.”