The Dead And Buried Part 10

The pointer began to inch its way across the board.

YES.

My breath was loud in my ears. I was shocked that the board had worked so quickly. It seemed almost too easy. I stared at Faye and Donovan, wondering if either of them was pushing the pointer.

Faye said, "Are you willing to communicate with us?"

The pointer slid back to the center of the board, then back up.

YES.

"What's your name?" someone in the crowd called out.

Faye's eyes cut to the talker, angry that her MC job had been s.n.a.t.c.hed away, but immediately returned to the board as the pointer moved again. People called out the letters as the planchette stopped on each one.

"K! A!"

It wasn't smooth. The pointer jerked a bit as it stopped and started between letters. I felt like I was being pulled along.

"Y!"

"Oh my G.o.d!"

"L! A!"

"It's Kayla. She's here," Faye said.

But she wasn't. I'd gotten to know when Kayla was in a room. I felt it in my bones. Something wasn't right.

"You're moving it," Donovan shouted at Faye, and he pushed the planchette off the board.

Faye caught it before it fell to the floor. Then she laughed guiltily. "Come on," she said. "It was funny."

The crowd groaned. I gave Faye a look. All the other people here just wanted a bit of entertainment. But this wasn't a game to me. I needed this. I wanted Kayla gone.

"Do it for real," someone called.

Faye placed the pointer back in the center of the board. "I'll stop."

"No, you're out," Donovan said.

"No, I promise. I won't push it again," Faye insisted.

He inhaled deeply and looked at me. I nodded. Faye wouldn't be stupid enough to fake it twice.

"Fine," he relented.

"We each put our index finger on it this time," Faye said. "Only one finger. A light touch. And we'll know it's not being pushed."

I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and returned one finger to the planchette.

"Is someone there, for real?" Faye asked.

Several long seconds pa.s.sed. No one spoke, nothing moved. But the air seemed to thicken. I knew there were at least ten pairs of eyes on me, but I felt something larger looming around us. Something unseen but watching our every move. Waiting. Leaning forward with antic.i.p.ation.

The pointer vibrated, sending a tingle up my finger. Faye paled and I knew she'd felt it, too. Donovan's eyes widened. We all held our breath.

The pointer slid almost effortlessly.

YES.

"Is it you? Kayla?" Faye's voice changed. She was no longer the loud leader.

The pointer doubled back, then returned.

YES.

The sudden fear in Faye's eyes was unsettling. This was no joke anymore. The air morphed, felt almost alive and electric. The crowd quietly leaned closer. The candle flame flickered, making our shadows dance along the walls.

I flinched as the pointer began to move beneath my finger. No one had asked a question.

"Someone write down the letters," Faye ordered.

I heard the rustling of a bunch of people pulling out their phones, the clicking as they transcribed.

IM.

STILL.

Too many people were calling out the letters at once. "Shut up," Faye said tensely. I tuned out all the noise and concentrated on spelling the words myself. The pointer slid to the next letter and the next.

HERE.

"I'm still here," I translated.

Adrenaline surged through me. A small cry rang out from the crowd.

I tried to keep my voice even, unemotional. "Why haven't you moved on?"

The pointer darted again, swiftly. I watched the letters intently.

DID NOT FALL.

A rush of breath came from the gathered crowd. I inhaled deeply through a twinge of anxiety.

"Then how did you die?" I asked. Faye was shocked into silence; she didn't even seem to mind that I'd taken over.

The pointer slid around the glossy cardboard, stopping briefly between letters.

PUSHED.

"Who pushed you?" I asked. The tension rose in the air like a swelling wave.

"Stop!" Faye yelled. "This isn't right. We have to stop."

We pulled our hands away as Faye began to sob hysterically. Donovan frowned at his fingers like he'd touched something dirty. I wanted to keep going.

The pointer shuddered back to life and began to swirl slowly around the board.

With no one touching it.

Faye crab-walked backward, away from the table. Donovan ducked his head underneath, looking for the trick. Searching for how this could be happening. I stayed completely still on the floor. I knew what was going on. Kayla was really here. Really talking to us.

DID NOT SEE WHO PUSHED ME.

"Was it Donovan?" a voice from the back of the crowd yelled.

A sort of vibration went through the room, a slight rumble coming from the floor and pulsating up the walls. I exchanged a horrified glance with Donovan - he'd felt it, too.

The pointer charged over to NO.

"How do you know it wasn't Donovan if you didn't see?" a skeptical voice said.

The pointer angrily shot off the board.

I choked out a cry as my throat tightened. The floor beneath me trembled and I clambered to my feet. Everyone jumped and twisted around, reaching for each other. The board itself was shaking. Energy swirled through the room like a tornado, rushing at all our faces. My breaths came fast and shallow, leaving me dizzy. The lights in the room that had been off turned on, almost impossibly bright. Static electricity charged through the air. Long hair lifted, short hair literally stood on end.

Donovan stared, mouth open. Faye raked her fingers down her cheeks. I had only one thought: run like h.e.l.l. But I couldn't move.

The light got brighter and brighter until the bulbs burst and shattering gla.s.s fell from the ceiling like rain. As hands and arms rose up for protection, the candles blew out, plunging us into complete darkness. Screams of terror, male and female, echoed off the walls. The front door crashed open and people nearly trampled each other in an effort to get out.

My muscles ached. Burned to join the others and run from the house. But I fought against the instinct. I couldn't leave Colby alone. I stayed, my feet bolted to the floor as the energy quaked around me. Then, the trembling that had started in the floor seemed to climb up the walls and in a vast whoosh rose up to the ceiling and disappeared. Like a door closed against the wind. It just ... shut off.

My heart thumped so hard it hurt. I clutched at my chest, willing it to calm.

Silence fell over the house. But, in a sickening moment, I realized it shouldn't have. Colby should have woken. He had to have heard the smashes, the screams. He himself should be screaming and terrified.

Something was wrong.

I ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, not even faltering at the top like I usually did. Colby's door stood closed, as I'd left it. Was it really possible he hadn't heard any of the commotion? I drew a deep breath and reached out for the k.n.o.b. The bra.s.s was icy cold. It almost burned against my overheated skin. I turned the k.n.o.b slowly until I heard the click of a release, then let the door slowly sway inward.

Colby's night-light cast an orange glow over the room. I padded up to the side of the bed, my eyes focused on the lump under the blankets. Colby's whole body was covered, even his head. I reached out, grasping the comforter in my hand and slowly pulled it down to reveal Colby's face. His mouth was open slightly. After a quick paranoid thought, I put my hand, palm out, under his chin. He was breathing. He seemed hot, which was no surprise, after being completely under that thick blanket. But he was fine.

I backed out of the room. Right into someone.

Clutching my heart, I turned to face Donovan. He stood waiting in the hallway. He hadn't run like the others. He'd stayed.

"Everyone else is gone," he said. He motioned to the bedroom. "Is your little brother all right?"

My throat was so tight and raw, I couldn't speak. I only nodded.

Colby was safe. It was over.

My emotions released like a busted dam. Tears flowing, body shaking. Donovan pulled me into his arms and I collapsed willingly onto his chest, so thankful that he'd stayed behind.

We went downstairs. Donovan helped me sweep up the broken gla.s.s. I tossed all the cups and the half-eaten bags of food into the trash. I pointed Donovan toward where we kept our stepladder and lightbulbs, and he replaced each shattered one. I didn't know what I would have done if he'd left me behind, too.

Neither of us spoke. Perhaps it was trauma that silenced us, or not knowing where to start. Whatever the cause, it was an unspoken, mutually agreed-upon silence. Fix. Clean. Keep moving forward.

My thoughts wandered to the days ahead. Would all of us band together in silence like this? Or would tonight's details be pa.s.sed around school like any other party tale? Would we rush to compare notes or fear acknowledging what had happened? Would I even still go out with Kane tomorrow night? Tomorrow seemed so far in the future. I couldn't even figure out what I was going to do in ten minutes.

After we'd finished cleaning up, I walked Donovan to the door. His tired eyes scanned my face for a moment, then he pulled me into a hug. I sucked in a long, slow breath. I didn't want to let go of him and lose the comfort he brought me.

He released me with a kiss on the top of my head. "I'll call you."

The house felt terribly empty when he was gone. I reminded myself that empty was good.

I trudged back upstairs and stared at my bed, wondering how in the world I was going to sleep after tonight's events. But as I burrowed under the covers, a complete and utter exhaustion washed over me like a wave and pulled me under. I felt no fear. Only the glimmer of hope that when the house shook and the lights burst it had been Kayla's exit from this plane. Maybe, wherever she was now, she could get some peace.

I slipped into a mercifully dreamless sleep, only stirring when a shaft of icy air wafted over my face with a feathery touch. Someone must have opened a window during the party. I only hoped it was open and not smashed. But I was too tired to get up and close it, wherever it was. Way too tired. I pulled the comforter higher and tighter, tucking it under my chin. But instead of getting warmer, I felt like a layer of ice was settling in around me like fog. I opened my eyes.

Colby stood beside the bed, his unblinking stare fixed on me.

I recoiled, startled by the sight of his face only inches from mine.

"What is it, buddy?" My voice wasn't sleepy. A rush of adrenaline jump-started my whole system. Colby had never sleepwalked before, but that seemed like what he was doing now. Standing there, silent, unmoving, staring at me.

"Did you have a nightmare?" I asked.

Finally, movement. His head tilted slightly to the side. One word. "No."

But it didn't sound like Colby's voice. Not at all.

"Colby?" My voice trembled.

He smiled. Slow and wide, his bright white baby teeth glistening in the murky gloom.

"No. Not Colby."

Icy fear encased my heart and my chest heaved with quickening breaths. This isn't happening, I thought. It's a dream.

I dug my fingernails into the skin of my arm and winced in pain. But what hurt more was the sharp, terrifying realization: This was real.

"The door was opened," Colby, but not Colby, said. "So I can do this now. Use him. Anytime I want."

"Please," I begged with a quivering voice. "Just leave him alone. He has nothing to do with any of this."

Not Colby smiled, pleased with my reaction. "I've got your attention now, don't I?"