Captives (Nightmare Hall) (16 page)

“I still can’t believe it was him,” Ernie said. “Maybe we’d have guessed if we’d known that Arthur beat up a bunch of kids who called him Fatso a couple of years ago. Reardon told me that. The kids were only nine and ten years old, and Arthur really did a job on both of them. He almost went to jail, and had to undergo counseling for five years. That’s why he was seeing Leo.”

“He was sneaking in and out of Nightmare Hall,” Molloy said. “Maybe not at first, but later that night, he had to. To follow Daisy, and then to come up to campus to talk to you.
We
were trapped inside, but he wasn’t. He had those keys, and he knew about the cellar door.”

“Well,” Lynne said, “at least they’ve put him away now. Should have done it two years ago, and then none of this would ever have happened. Dr. Leo would still be alive, and we wouldn’t have nightmares for the rest of our lives.” She shook her head gloomily, then said crankily, “I just want to know how my new car is.” Her head was swathed in white, but normal color had returned to her face. “Did anyone ever get it out of that stupid ditch?”

Ernie nodded. “We did, Simon and me. I’d rather have done almost anything than go back to where that nasty creek was, but I knew you’d throw a fit if we left your car there.”

“I still don’t understand,” Molloy said, glancing over her shoulder at Ernie, “how you got out of that creek. You don’t swim any better than I do, and I’m terrible.”

“A log. I stopped in to see Reardon on my way up here. He’s doing okay, by the way. Anyway, he said he walked across a log. Must be the one the creek slammed me up against. I just grabbed hold, that’s all. Couldn’t climb up on it, the current was too rough, so I overhanded it across. Couldn’t believe it myself when I ended up on the opposite bank.”

“When I first saw you, you looked like you hadn’t made it across. A drowned rat, that’s what you looked like,” Molloy said, squeezing his hand. “But you looked pretty good to me, Ernie Dodd.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

They all fell silent then. Molloy knew they were thinking about Arthur. Officer Reardon had told them he often saw behaviors and attitudes similar to Arthur’s in criminals. “They really believe that nothing bad that happens is their fault. That it’s everyone else’s. When Dr. Leo suggested that Arthur go on a diet, he was saying that Arthur was responsible for his obesity. Arthur couldn’t handle that, and flew into a rage. What happened to him as a child really
wasn’t
his responsibility. But what happened when he wasn’t a child anymore, was. And he wasn’t ready to face that.”

“That place he’s going to?” Molloy had asked the officer then. “Will they help Arthur handle all of that stuff? Will he ever be normal again?”

“That won’t be their primary concern. Their primary concern will be keeping someone with Arthur’s rage level and lack of conscience off the streets. But he’ll probably be in there most of his life, so I guess they’ll tackle some of those problems while he’s there.”

“Good news,” Ernie told Molloy now. “The university has agreed to pick up the tab for all the damage to Nightmare Hall. They figure since it was one of their dorms, and you weren’t safe there, you shouldn’t be penalized for doing what you had to do.”

Molloy liked the sound of that. Doing what she had to do. She had, hadn’t she? It had been horrible, terrible, the worst thing …

But she had done what she had to do.

Couldn’t be that hard to keep doing just that.

And
with
Ernie. Ernie, who couldn’t swim worth a darn but had crossed a raging creek for Molloy Book.

Definitely with Ernie.

The pizza, which Lynne’s doctor had expressly forbidden her to eat, arrived then. Simon locked the door when the delivery person had gone, and they ate,

Molloy grinned when Lynne selected the largest slice and devoured it with relish.

Diane Hoh (b. 1937) is a bestselling author of young-adult fiction. Born in Warren, Pennsylvania, Hoh grew up with eight siblings and parents who encouraged her love of reading from an early age. After high school, she spent a year at St. Bonaventure University before marrying and raising three children. She and her family moved often, finally settling in Austin, Texas.

Hoh sold two stories to
Young Miss
magazine, but did not attempt anything longer until her children were fully grown. She began her first novel,
Loving That O’Connor Boy
(1985), after seeing an ad in a publishing trade magazine requesting submissions for a line of young-adult fiction. Although the manuscript was initially rejected, Hoh kept writing, and she soon completed her second full-length novel,
Brian’s Girl
(1985). One year later, her publisher reversed course, buying both novels and launching Hoh’s career as a young-adult author.

After contributing novels to two popular series, Cheerleaders and the Girls of Canby Hall, Hoh found great success writing thrillers, beginning with
Funhouse
(1990), a Point Horror novel that became a national bestseller. Following its success, Hoh created the Nightmare Hall series, whose twenty-nine novels chronicle a university plagued by dark secrets. After concluding Nightmare Hall with 1995’s
The Voice in the Mirror
, Hoh wrote
Virus
(1996), which introduced the seven-volume Med Center series, which charts the challenges and mysteries of a hospital in Massachusetts.

In 1998, Hoh had a runaway hit with
Titanic: The Long Night
, a story of two couples—one rich, one poor—and their escape from the doomed ocean liner. That same year, Hoh released
Remembering the Titanic
, which picked up the story one year later. Together, the two were among Hoh’s most popular titles. She continues to live and write in Austin.

An eleven-year-old Hoh with her best friend, Margy Smith. Hoh’s favorite book that year was
Lad: A Dog
by Albert Payson Terhune.

A card from Hoh’s mother written upon the publication of her daughter’s first book. Says Hoh, “This meant everything to me. My mother was a passionate reader, as was my dad.”

Hoh and her mother in Ireland in 1985. Hoh recalls, “I kissed the Blarney Stone, which she said was redundant because I already had the ‘gift of gab.’ Later, I would use some of what we saw there in
Titanic: The Long Night
as Paddy, Brian, and Katie deported from Ireland.”

An unused publicity photo of Hoh.

Hoh with her daughter Jenny in Portland, Oregon, in 2008. Says Hoh, “While there, I received a call from a young filmmaker in Los Angeles who wanted to make
The Train
into a film. They ran out of money before the project got off the ground. Such is life.”

Hoh in 1991, addressing a class at the junior high she had attended in Warren, Pennsylvania.

A 1995 photo taken in Austin, Texas, with Hoh’s grandchildren. Says Hoh, “Although my deadlines for
Nightmare Hall
were tight, I made time for my grandchildren: Mike, Alex, and Rachel. I'm so glad they live here.”