The Second Evil (15 page)

“H
ow do you feel?” Kimmy asked.

“Kind of fluttery,” Corky told her, swallowing hard.

Kimmy took the maroon and white pom-pom from Corky's hand and helped her untangle it. “You'll do fine,” she said, flashing Corky an encouraging smile as she handed it back. “Once the game starts, you won't even think about how nervous you are.”

I hope she's right, Corky thought, glancing up at the scoreboard, which was being set up for the game. The scoreboard lights were all flashing, and the clock was going haywire, the numbers running backward faster than Corky could read them.

I hope the game goes that quickly, Corky thought, fiddling with the cuffs of her white sweater. She could feel her heart racing. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

A few early arrivals entered the gym and made their way to the bleachers. Corky watched them, then turned her eyes back to the scoreboard clock. About half an hour until game time.

A hand touched her shoulder. She jumped, startled.

“Sorry,” Miss Green said. “I just wondered if you needed a pep talk.”

Corky grinned. “Thanks. But I think I'll be okay.”

“Nervous?” the advisor asked, studying Corky's face.

Corky nodded. “Yeah. But I can handle it.”

“You'll be great,” Miss Green said, glancing at the gym door as more people entered, “Practice has been terrific. The new pyramid routine should tear the roof off.”

“If I don't fall on my face,” Corky joked.

Miss Green chuckled. “You'll get your old confidence back once the game starts. You'll see.” She gave Corky a thumbs-up, turned, and jogged back toward Kimmy and the other cheerleaders.

By now the bleachers were nearly half full. The scoreboard clock showed fifteen minutes till game time. The teams were warming up on opposite ends of the floor, shooting running lay-ups, several balls thundering off the basket and backboard at once.

“Show time!” Kimmy called, clapping her hands, gathering the cheerleaders together. Corky moved quickly into the circle, wiping her perspiring hands on the sides of her short skirt.

“Energy up!” Kimmy shouted. “Let's get this crowd warmed up. Let's see some
spirit!”

The girls all cheered. Debra gave Corky an encouraging smile and a slap on the back. Forming a line,
they trotted to the bleachers and began their warm-up chant:

“Shadyside High! Shadyside High! Can you dig it? Everybody's here. So everybody CHEER!”

Then again. Louder. Encouraging the crowd to join in, to clap, to get loud.

And again. And again. Even louder.

And the crowd picked up the chant, picked up the enthusiasm, stomping and clapping until the nearly filled bleachers bounced and shook.

“Let's get a little bit rowdy! R-O-W-D-Y!”

And again. They repeated this chant until the Shadyside fans were screaming out the word. Then they ended it with synchronized back handsprings, all six girls performing a backward flip in unison, landing perfectly before jumping up and starting the chant again.

It's going great, Corky thought with relief as the shouts and cheers echoed off the walls. I'm doing fine. I'm going to be okay.

She looked down the line of girls and saw Kimmy grinning back at her. I'm going to be okay, Corky thought.

The game started. The gym reverberated with the pounding and squeaking of ten pairs of basketball
shoes and the steady thud of the ball against the shiny hardwood floor.

Corky knelt on the sidelines with the rest of the squad, watching the game, waiting for a break when the cheerleaders would go into action. She could feel her heart racing, but from excitement rather than nervousness.

The game was going quickly, a close match in which the lead kept changing sides. Corky watched intently and, when it came time to do a cheer, performed with her old enthusiasm and grace.

Standing in front of the cheering fans, the crowd stretching up nearly to the rafters, she felt as if she were shouting away her problems, roaring back at all the terrors that had plagued her.

Just before halftime she turned to see Kimmy huddled behind her. She leaned down and spoke into Corky's ear, struggling to be heard over the thunderous crowd noise. “About the pyramid,” Kimmy shouted.

Corky cupped her ear and smiled up at her.

“At the end, when you're ready to dismount from the top, count to three, okay? So I can be sure I'm in position to catch you.”

“Okay, gotcha.” Corky nodded. “Have I been coming down too fast?”

“I just want to make sure I'm in position,” Kimmy said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “So count to three, and then jump, and I'll be there.”

“Thanks,” Corky said. And then she added, “I'm really grateful, Kimmy. For everything.”

Kimmy didn't hear her. She had moved on to give instructions to Ronnie and Heather.

It was halftime before Corky realized it. The time
did
seem to be moving as fast as the scoreboard clock when it was being set before the game.

The visiting cheerleading squad performed first. They had come with a ten-piece band and did a lot of rap cheers and club-type dancing.

“They're good,” Corky heard Megan say as they waited on the sidelines.

“They're
different,”
she heard Heather reply. She didn't mean it as a compliment.

A few minutes later Corky felt her excitement surge as she followed the other girls to the center of the floor to begin their performance.

The opening routines went well. Then Ronnie mistimed a backflip and landed hard. But Debra helped her up quickly, and the routine continued without a pause. There were no other mishaps.

We're doing okay, Corky thought happily. She suddenly wondered if her parents were somewhere up in the bleachers. They had talked about coming to the game and bringing Sean.

I hope you're here, Corky thought. I hope you're seeing how great everything is going. My big comeback!

And then it was time for the pyramid, the grand finale.

As the girls began their shoulder mounts, the crowd hushed expectantly.

Corky crossed her fingers for a brief second, took a deep breath, and began her climb.

Up, up.

And she was at the top. And the pyramid was formed.

Perfect.

And the crowd shouted its appreciation.

Corky smiled and thrust out her arms.

And as she focused on the top of the bleachers, the gym began to spin. The entire room began to twirl, like a carnival ride out of control.

She uttered a low cry. She felt her knees start to buckle. “What's happening?”

The walls were whirling. She was inside a spinning cyclone of light and color and noise. “No! Please!”

Struggling to keep her balance, she closed her eyes.

When she opened them, the gym was still whirling.

Faces suddenly came clear as the bleachers spun around in front of her. She saw a red-haired boy with freckles. Saw him so clearly.

The room spun around again. The whirling lights grew brighter, brighter. Swirls of red and yellow and white.

And she saw a man with a red wool scarf tossed around his neck, sitting close to the floor.

And the gym spun around again.

The shouts and cries seemed to circle her, press in on her, suffocate her as the blindingly bright gym whirled faster and faster.

And then stopped.

And she saw Sarah Beth Plummer standing just inside the double doors.

Sarah Beth Plummer?

What was
she
doing here?

I've got to get down, Corky thought, feeling cold perspiration run down her forehead, feeling her knees tremble. Got to get down.

She turned her eyes to the floor, and there was Kimmy. Ready for her. In position already—waiting. Giving her an encouraging nod.

Corky took a deep breath.

Her legs felt rubbery, weak. She leaned forward, raised her knees, tucked her legs.

And leapt.

Kimmy's face twisted into a mask of horror.

She didn't move to catch Corky. Didn't raise her arms.

And Corky hurtled to the floor, hitting hard with a sickening
thunk!

C
orky opened her eyes to silence.

White silence.

The gym had become so quiet.

Faces emerged and came slowly into focus, blurred, distorted, shadowy faces.

“I couldn't move!” she heard a shrill voice crying somewhere above her. “I couldn't move. I couldn't raise my arms!”

It was Kimmy's voice.

The shadowy faces brightened. Corky realized she was lying on her back, staring up at the gym ceiling.

The pain was like a raging river, rolling over her entire body.

Miss Green peered down at her, her features tight with worry.

Other faces stared down.

Ronnie's face was drawn and pale. She had tearstains on her freckled cheeks.

Debra stared down at Corky, her cold blue eyes wide, her lips pursed in fear.

She could hear Kimmy sobbing now, loud sobs.

It was so cold now. So cold and silent. And the pain was everywhere.

“I wanted to catch her,” she heard Kimmy tell someone, her voice shrill and trembling. “I
tried
to catch her. But
something held my arms down!”

That's what Bobbi had said, Corky thought.

The faces above her slipped back into darkness.

That's what happened to my sister, she realized.

Something had held Bobbi's arms down. Something had paralyzed Bobbi. Only no one would believe her.

I believe you, Bobbi. I believe you.

Because I know what was responsible. I know what did it.

It was the spirit.

The evil spirit is here.

It's right here.

But where?

It tried to kill me. It tried.

And then the most horrifying thought: maybe it
did
kill me.

The faces darkened even more.

She heard Kimmy sobbing.

And then the darkness swallowed her.

When Corky opened her eyes, a different face stared down at her.

“Mom!”

Her voice came out choked and dry.

Mrs. Corcoran, her eyes watery, smiled down at Corky. “You're going to be okay,” she said, putting a cool hand on her forehead.

Corky tried to sit up, but pain forced her back onto the pillow. “Where am I?”

“You're in the hospital,” her mother said. Her smile appeared frozen in place—it didn't fade, even when she talked. “The emergency room.” She dabbed at the corner of one eye with a wadded-up tissue.

The room came into focus. Actually, Corky saw, it wasn't a room. Just a small rectangular cubicle with gray curtains for walls.

“You're going to be okay,” Mrs. Corcoran repeated, still offering Corky that forced smile.

No, I'm not, Corky thought glumly.

“You bruised a rib. And you broke your arm. That's all,” her mother informed her.

So the spirit didn't kill me, Corky thought, turning to stare at the gray curtains. It didn't kill me. This time.

But next time …

“Your father is filling out some forms,” Mrs. Corcoran said. “When he's finished, we can go home. Isn't that great? You're going to be okay.”

Corky forced a smile back at her mother. I'm not going to be okay, she thought. I'm
never
going to be okay.

The evil spirit had killed Bobbi.

And tonight it was in the gym. Tonight it tried to kill me.

I'm not okay. Not okay. Not okay.

A dark-haired young intern in a white coat appeared suddenly above her. “Can you sit up?” he asked, smiling. “I'd like to check the cast one more time.”

Holding her by the shoulder, he helped Corky to a
sitting position. To her surprise, she saw a large white cast encasing her right arm.

“I wouldn't try to do any backflips for a while,” the doctor joked.

“Sean, what are you doing up this late?” Mrs. Corcoran scolded.

Corky's brother, who had greeted them eagerly at the front door in his pajamas, shrugged his slender shoulders.

“He refused to go to bed,” explained Mrs. Barnaby, the neighbor who had been baby-sitting. “He said he had to see his sister's cast.”

“Well, back away from the door so your poor sister can get inside,” Mr. Corcoran exclaimed.

Scan's eyes grew wide with excitement when he saw Corky's cast. “Wow! Can I touch it?”

Corky extended it to him. “Go ahead. If that's a thrill for you.”

“No, wait,” Sean said excitedly. “I want to sign my name on it. You're supposed to sign casts, right?”

“Not tonight, please!” their mother begged.

“Corky's had a rough night,” Mr. Corcoran told Sean. “Give her some space.”

“Can I write a message on it?” Sean asked, ignoring his parents as usual. “You know. Something funny.”

“Tomorrow,” Corky said shakily. “I'm really feeling kind of weird right now.”