A Girl Called Dust (26 page)

I was surprised to find Room 213 full. I’m
not sure why, but I had expected ten kids max. Had so many kids gotten into
trouble that week? Even more surprising was Principal Sharpe sitting at the
front desk. Normally the teachers took turns covering Saturday detention, but
I’d never heard of Principal Sharpe doing it.

I wanted to gag immediately. The mixture of
sweetness and rot stung my nostrils. I held my coat sleeve underneath my nose
to keep myself from gagging.

I locked eyes with Fletcher from where he
sat at the back of the room. He gave me a huge smile as if he was ecstatic to
be there. The only seats left were in the very front row, so I didn’t have a
choice but to take one. As soon as I settled in, the door swung open. Ms.
Sampson shoved Claudio Reyes inside and slammed the door behind him.

Claudio just caught himself before falling
and straightened out his sweater. “She can’t be throwing people around like
that.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Reyes,” Principal Sharpe
said, sounding completely unconcerned about Claudio’s rough handling.

As soon as Claudio took the seat beside
me, Principal Sharpe stood, rounded the desk, and sat on top of it. “Now that
we’re all here . . .”

I looked around the room and realized then
that many of these kids didn’t belong. Ashley Wyatt had gotten best-behavior
awards since we were in elementary school. Barry Hastings had the strictest
parents I knew and wouldn’t have dared to get in trouble. A few other kids were
in there whom I’d never seen get as much as a verbal reprimand. Then I realized
something else. Every single one of these kids, with the exception of two or
three, was on the list Fletcher and I had made the other day. Everyone in this
room was a creature.

“I’m sorry about this,” Principal Sharpe
continued. “I know there are many other things you’d rather be doing on a
Saturday, but I had to find a way to get you all together that didn’t look
suspicious.”

He had planned this, and Fletcher had
known.

“You could have at least brought doughnuts
and hot chocolate or something,” Claudio said.

Principal Sharpe gave him a look then
continued. “We have a situation. As you all very well know, something has been
killing people under the guise of a Wendigo. We have only one Wendigo or half
Wendigo in these parts, but this particular creature hasn’t fully transformed
yet. Something is killing us off. Something is threatening our truce.”

Everyone spoke at once, and I wished I
wasn’t sitting at the front of the room, because it made it easier for people
to stare at me. Their eyes burned into the back of my head. Principal Sharpe
hadn’t mentioned my name, but did they know what I was? Probably.

Jackson, who sat a few seats behind me,
told them what happened the night he, Fletcher, and I had gone out into the
woods.

“Well, how do we know it’s not someone in
this room?” Marshall demanded.

Claudio turned to him. “Because none of us
change into things that could do that to those people. Huge claws and teeth?
And a Giver would never do it.”

Everyone started talking all at once
again. Principal Sharpe banged on the desk. “We all know that there are some
beings who go unrecognized because they’ve managed to hide their scent. It can
very well be one of them doing it. They could be right under our noses, and we
wouldn’t even know it.”

“How do they do that?” I asked. “How come
they can mask their smell but the rest of us can’t?”

“Sometimes it’s a born ability, like how
some people are born to be great swimmers or great mathematicians, and with
some it comes with their power. Some creatures just develop greater powers than
others.”

“I think the bigger question is
why
are they doing this.” Leslie McNeil said. “They’re obviously trying to rile
everybody up and turn us against each other, but why? Things have been nice and
peaceful for a while. Why are they trying to mess that up?”

Michael McPhee piped up. “I think it has
something to do with Dust.”

“Mr. McPhee,” Principal Sharpe chided.

“Sorry. I mean . . . Arden. They’re trying
to make us want to kill her, but why? What’s so special about her?” The way he
asked it sounded mean, but he hadn’t meant it that way. It was a good question.
I knew the answer, but I wondered if the rest of them did.

“It’s no secret. We know she’s half
Wendigo, but she’s also part Banshee,” Tracy Farris said. “At her full powers,
she could kill us all just by thinking about it.”

The group murmured, and I gulped. I
sounded like the most horrible thing in the world, but it was also empowering
to know that I had this priceless ability bottled up inside of me. Something no
one else had.

I looked to Principal Sharpe, who nodded.
“If someone wants Arden dead, why not just kill her? Maybe that would be too
easy for them. They want our two sides to turn against each other again, and
they’re using her to do that. No one wants to be at war again.”

“Or the Gemini Curse,” someone called from
the back of the room.

“We have to do something,” Claudio said.
“We just can’t let that thing keep killing people.”

“Agreed,” Principal Sharpe said. “As I’ve
been saying, keep your eyes, ears, and noses open. If you hear or see anything
strange, come to me immediately.”

I only wore a coat because it was twenty
degrees out and it would have seemed strange if I hadn’t. People would talk,
and everything was hard enough for Mom as it was. With the coat on, I was hot
and starting to sweat. “I don’t get cold anymore.”

“I’m cold all the time,” Fletcher said
from the left of me, where he walked matching my steps.

Fletcher paused and stared into the window
of the Hallmark store. Like the rest of downtown Everson, the place was decked
out for Christmas from top to bottom. I didn’t mind stopping. Christmas was my
favorite time of year.

Fletcher’s face held a wide-eyed,
childlike wonderment I had never seen before. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I love Christmas,” he said, focused on
something inside.

“I do too. It’s my favorite holiday.”

His smile faded a little. “My parents used
to celebrate it.”

Fletcher had never mentioned Christmas
since I’d known him. His family went to Alaska to visit his grandparents, and
he never said anything else about it.

“Used to. Why’d they stop?”

“They had to. They died.”

I tore myself away from the window to look
at Fletcher. “Wait . . . what?”

He locked eyes with me for a second and
then turned back to the window. “The Whitelocks aren’t my real parents.”

I couldn’t believe what he was telling me
or that he was saying it so casually. That was a huge deal. “Fletcher, how
could you not tell me something like this?”

He shrugged, and the smile returned to his
face. “I thought I had. Besides, you met them. You should have been able to
tell from the smell.”

I wanted to know, no, I
had
to know
what had happened to his real parents, but obviously whatever it was, it was
something awful. I couldn’t bring myself to ask him about it while he looked so
happy. I’d ask another time.

“Maybe if you asked, the Whitelocks would
celebrate it. Is it against their religion or something?”

Fletcher pursed his lips. “No. It’s a
Human holiday. We don’t celebrate those. Mom and Dad hate them, actually.” I
wished Fletcher could come and celebrate with my family, but after what went
down the last time he was over, that would never be an option.

Now that I thought about it, Fletcher was
right. He never celebrated anything, never dressed up for Halloween, nothing. I
was happy my family wasn’t that way. Holidays gave me something to look forward
to. Then I wondered why his real parents had celebrated Christmas when that
wasn’t something creatures did.

Fletcher pressed his hands against the
glass. “Maybe if I got just a small ornament, I could hide it in my room, and
they’d never know.”

I took his hand and pulled him toward the
entrance of the store. “That’s a great idea. I’ll help you pick one out.”

An hour later, we left the store with an
adorable penguin sticking out of a Christmas stocking. It had taken Fletcher
forever to decide on something, and he had run around the store amazed at
everything like a five-year-old. People stared but he didn’t care. Honestly, I
hadn’t either.

On the walk home I had to ask. “What
happened to your parents?”

“They were killed. I don’t know by who or
what, but they were.”

That matched Hollis’s story. “Hollis told
me that a bunch of Takers were killed during some kind of massacre. Was it
then?”

“It happened at the same time.”

When Hollis had told me the story, I
thought the victims had only been Takers. Hollis thought the Givers had been
responsible. “What would attack Givers and Takers?”

Fletcher shrugged. “Hell if I know. Some
people thought Humans had found out about us and that they were responsible,
but there wasn’t any proof of that.”

I couldn’t picture any Humans killing all
those creatures in one night, but something had. Maybe it was the same
something that was killing people again.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Everson High’s Annual Winter Masquerade
Ball fell in the middle of January. Fletcher had talked me into going with him
since we were supposed to be keeping an eye on things. The last time a bunch of
kids got together at night, the Wendigo had attacked. Plenty of police cars
patrolled the neighborhood since we would be out past curfew.

The school’s gym had been transformed into
a winter wonderland. Even though Mom had insisted on buying me some fancy dress
she’d seen in a boutique, I had made my own navy-blue satin dress, and I was
very proud of the finished product. The dress was simple, long and fitted, with
a jewel-encrusted belt and faux diamonds dangling from the neckline. I had
granted one of Mom’s request and worn a pair of silver heels that were already
killing my feet.

Admission to the ball was one gently used
coat that would be given to charity. At the door, Fletcher and I handed our
coat donations to the volunteers then checked our own coats in at the station
in the corner of the gym.

The decorating committee had outdone
themselves. White trees lined the walls, while silver snowflakes dangled from
the ceiling. A snow machine blew fake snow into the air. Arches of white
Christmas lights framed the doorways. The gym looked magical.

Since Fletcher refused to dance, he and I
sat at a table, nibbling on finger foods and drinking punch. Even though we were
just there as friends, a small part of me pretended we were on a date. The
dance wasn’t half bad, but I sort of wished I could enjoy it like a normal
person instead of having to keep an eye out for an imitation Wendigo.

“When did you start to change?” I asked
Fletcher as couples hit the floor for a slow song.

“When most kids do. A little after my
thirteenth birthday. I had to sleep in a cage.”

I laughed because I thought he had to be
joking, but Fletcher didn’t crack a smile. “Really? They put you in a cage?”

He nodded. “Yep. They had to.”

I thought about my father’s words that
night at the restaurant—that he would do what he had to do to protect the
family. I bet he would put me in a cage if he had to.

 Fletcher took a huge gulp of my
punch. “I couldn’t really control myself at first, and I might have hurt them.
Anyway, at first it really hurt. I would be on all fours. Fur would poke out of
my body. It felt like needles pricking me. My hands and feet would turn into
paws and claws. My nose would become a snout. Then when I turned fifteen, I
started changing into the other animals—the snake and the owl.”

“Can you always control when you change?”

“No. At first it only happened at night,
but now it can happen any time if I let it. When a Walker gets angry enough,
they can change and not be able to control it. That’s why I have to stay calm
all the time.”

I stared at him. I’d never really seen him
lose his temper.

“You think I never wanted to kick Ranson’s
ass? If I let myself get angry at him or anyone else, I would change right in
front of everyone and probably rip him to shreds.”

Wow. I had never known that there was a
method to Fletcher’s madness. I was about to ask him why he had never told me
that when my phone dinged. The only person who ever texted me was Fletcher, so
I assumed it was one of my parents. I checked my phone to see that the text was
from Bailey.

Hey Arden. Plz meet me n bathroom by
library. I want 2 come n, but kind of self-conscious. Could use a pep talk and
some 1 2 walk n with.

I hadn’t expected Bailey to come to the
ball or to show her face at school ever again, but I was glad she had decided
to come. Then I remembered how she had threatened me with the meat cleaver and
made up those awful lies about me.

“Bailey’s here,” I told Fletcher. “She
wants me to get her from the girls’ bathroom.”

Fletcher crinkled his nose. “Did she bring
her meat cleaver?”

“Fletch,” I whined, but I understood. I
was still angry with Bailey for the things she’d said, but the thought of her
standing in the bathroom afraid to show her face to the world made me forget
all that. Despite all we’d been through, she needed me.

“I’m just saying,” Fletcher said. “Why
would you still want to be friends with someone who would accuse you of doing
something so horrible?”

“Are you kidding me? I recall someone else
who used to blame me for things I didn’t do.”

His cheeks reddened, and he looked down at
the table. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I should have known better, but all the
signs pointed to you.”

“Forget it.” I rose from my seat. “I’m
going to get her.”

Fletcher stood too. “I’m coming with you.”

Walking down the deserted hallways and
away from the dance made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. School
was bad enough during the day; at night it was super creepy. Moonlight from the
windows cast sinister shadows on the walls. Even with Fletcher beside me, I was
tempted to turn around and go back, but Bailey needed me.

We rounded a corner, moved past the
darkened library, and stood in front of the girls’ bathroom. “I’ll wait here,”
Fletcher said as he took a drink from the water fountain.

I pushed the bathroom door open, poking my
head inside. The bathroom was dark except for a small amount of light that
shone through the tiny windows near the ceiling. Something in the air smelled
dead and stale. Even for a bathroom, it was rank.

I stepped inside, letting the door fall
closed behind me. “Bailey, it’s Arden. Are you in here?”

“Don’t turn on the light,” she whispered
just as I was feeling along the wall for the switch.

“Okay. I won’t.” Something clinked, and
the door of the farthest stall creaked open. A dark form stepped out.

 “Bailey, you don’t have to hide from
me. I’m sure you look absolutely beautiful.”

“I’m hideous,” she said, sniffling.

I walked closer to her until we stood
almost nose to nose. A black veil covered her face. “Um, I guess you could wear
that if it makes you feel comfortable. Can I see?”

She nodded, so I pulled her veil back.

 Bailey wasn’t underneath it. It was
a . . . thing. The thing cackled at me.

Stunned, I took a step back. The thing
wore a black robe, and her white, pasty skin almost glowed in the moonlight.
Flaming red eyes and a long hooked nose made her look almost demon-like. Bony
hands with sharp, pointy claws came from underneath the sleeves of her robe.

From my reading, I knew exactly what she
was. I stepped back again. “Hag.”

The Hag smiled with her thin gray lips.
“Smart girl. You’re late to the party, but you’re learning,” she said in a
raspy voice.

“What do you want? Why did you pretend to
be Bailey?”

She stepped closer to me. “I needed to get
you alone.”

“Why?”

To answer my question, she lurched
forward, tackling me to the ground. My head banged against the cool tile. A
dull, shooting pain throbbed at the back of my head. She was much stronger and
faster than a Human.

“You would have been better off staying
lost,” the Hag said. Her breath was hot and sour against my face. I gagged at
the smell.

I moved my head from side to side, trying
to shake the pain away. “What does that even mean?”

The Hag pinned my shoulders to the ground
with her large, bony hands. “When no one knew what you were. But then you had
to start doing weird things. Drawing attention to yourself.”

I tried with everything in me to push her
off me, but she wouldn’t budge. When was I going to gain the type of strength
the others had? Her knees pressed into my stomach. “Get off. You’re crushing
me.”

“Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than
that.” She looked deep into my eyes as if trying to hypnotize me. “Everyone is
talking about this special girl. The one who’s one of a kind. The one with the
ability to kill people with her thoughts. The one who can predict death. Are
you seeing yours right now?”

Stars formed in my vision as I struggled
to breathe.

“I’m just cutting to the chase, really. In
less than a year, you’ll be an uncontrollable beast. You don’t want to become a
Wendigo now, do you? You’ll have to be killed or put away. I’m actually doing
you a favor.”

I tried to pry her claws from where they
pierced my throat. A trickle of blood ran down my neck. It felt like a bug was
crawling on me. “What?”

The Hag smiled again, her eyes glowing.
“Kill you and then grind your bones. That’s the only way to kill a Banshee. I’m
sure you know that. But you have to be a fully transformed Banshee in order to
be killed that way. That’s why I couldn’t kill you right away. Banshee bones
are priceless to those who know how to use them. I’ve known your secret for a
long time. I even gave you a hint. Why do you think I named you Dust?”