Moonlight Secrets (8 page)

“We should do this
every
afternoon,” I said.

“You couldn't do that, Nate. You're such a
good
boy,” Ada said.

Now she was teasing me. What was up with her?

I shifted into reverse and lowered my foot on the gas pedal. I felt a jolt.

The car jerked forward.

“Whoa!” I let out a cry of surprise.

My right hand tightened on the gearshift at my side. I jammed it forward, then back into reverse.

The engine roared. The car bumped over the grass, picking up speed, shooting to the water.

“It won't back up!”
I screamed.

I jammed my foot down on the brake.

I waited for the car to stop. No. The car picked up speed.

I slammed my foot down on the brake again. Again.

I froze in panic as I realized the car wasn't stopping.

We all screamed as it roared over the side of the shore.

I gripped the steering wheel with both hands as the car flew through the air, engine roaring.

Our screams stopped as we soared up, then crashed into the water, splashing up tall waves all around us.

The car rocked on the surface for a few moments.

“Open the doors!” Ada shrieked. “Open them! Get out! Get out! Hurry!”

I couldn't move. I felt dazed. Dizzy.

This couldn't be happening!

We were sinking, sinking fast to the bottom of the river.

“We're going to drown!” Ada wailed. “We're all going to drown!”

Dark green water rose halfway
up the car windows. The car rocked hard, tilting to one side then the other as it sank to the bottom.

I grabbed my door handle and jerked it hard. I shoved my shoulder into the door.

The door wouldn't budge.

I jammed my shoulder into the door again.

No. It wouldn't move.

My heart thudded in my chest. I heard Jamie and Ada screaming in the back seat.

Ada shoved the back of my seat. “Open the door, Nate! Open the door!” She screamed the words over and over.

I turned to Shark. He was staring straight ahead, eyes wide. Watching the dark water rise up over the windshield. His hand pressed
against the dashboard. His mouth hung open in horror.

“Shark! Shark! Your door!” I choked out.

I grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. “Your door! Your door!”

It took a few seconds for him to come to life. He swung away from me and started to struggle with the handle.

“It's leaking in! Hurry! It's leaking in!” Ada shrieked, banging the back of my seat with her fists.

I pulled the door handle again and leaned into the door with all my strength.

“Oh!” I uttered a cry as the car hit the river bottom. A hard jolt sent me flying off the seat. Then the car floated up again.

Shark and I both pushed our weight against the doors. His door swung open, and water rushed in with a loud
whoosh.
I saw him push himself into the rushing water.

“Hurry! Hurry!” Ada screamed from behind me.

And then my door swung open. I didn't shut my mouth in time, and water roared into my throat.

Choking, sputtering, I kicked hard. Kicked
myself free of the car and went floating into the river.

The icy water froze me in shock. I couldn't move my arms and legs.

How long did it take? I don't know. When my body finally adjusted to the cold, I spun back to the car. Squinting through the murky water, I could see Ada's arms flailing out of the open car door.

Her hair floated straight up above her face. Her arms waved frantically in the water. Her eyes were wide with terror.

It took me a little while to realize she was stuck. Stuck in the back seat.

My chest began to ache. I needed fresh air. But I lowered myself in the water. I dropped to the side of the car.

A cluster of thick, greasy weeds swept around my face. I tugged them off, tried to toss them aside.

Bending low, I fumbled for the lever on the back of the passenger seat. I couldn't see in the darkness of the water. It took me a long while to find it.

Ada grabbed me by the hair. She pulled hard. Panic swept over me. If I didn't find the
lever, she'd drown. We'd
both
drown.

Finally I clicked the lever. The force of Ada's weight sent the seat back rolling forward.

I floated up and grabbed her hands. She squeezed my hands so tightly her nails dug deep into my skin. Ignoring the pain, I pulled her out of the car.

A few seconds later, our heads rose over the surface. We both choked and gasped and sucked in air noisily.

I realized I was still grasping Ada's hands. She pulled away from me and started to splash to the shore.

My chest throbbing, I spun around in the water. Squinting into the fading sunlight, I saw Shark bobbing on the surface.

He raised a hand over his head and waved to me. Then he came swimming toward me.

I crawled onto the shore and lay facedown in the wet grass. I sucked in breath after breath. I couldn't seem to catch up.

My whole body shivered. My clothes held the iciness of the water. My hair was matted wetly over my face.

Using my last remaining strength, I pulled myself to my feet. I saw Ada and Shark
huddled against the wide trunk of a tree.

“J-Jamie?” I stammered. I grabbed the tree trunk to hold myself up.

I saw the frightened expressions on Ada and Shark. With great effort, Shark pulled himself to his knees and stared out to the water.

“Jamie?”

And then all three of us began to shout her name.

“Jamie! Jamie! Jamie?”

The river rolled rapidly past us. I saw tangles of weeds swimming like eels in the current.

No sign of her. No sign.

My breath caught in my throat. My legs gave way and I fell to the muddy ground.

“Jamie? Where are you?”

“Jamie?”

No.

No. No.

Ada and Shark were still screaming her name. I grabbed Shark by the shoulder. My voice came out in a choked whisper: “Why isn't she coming up?
Why?
”

Gripped with horror, I gazed
out at the rippling water. My stomach lurched. I couldn't stop shivering.

And I couldn't stop shouting Jamie's name.

No sign of her. I couldn't even see the car. Just the dark water, flowing by so softly, steadily, as if nothing had happened.

Gasping for breath, I grabbed Shark by the arm. “We have to g-get her,” I choked out.

Shark's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. He kept shaking his head. “Too late,” he whispered. “It's been too long, Nate.”

Ada buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders heaved up and down. Loud sobs escaped her throat.

“Too late . . . ,” Shark repeated, as if in a daze.

“Shark—we have to try!” I cried, jerking his arm hard, trying to snap him out of it. “Shark—”

I didn't wait for him. I took off running into the water. When it rose over my knees, I did a surface dive.

The river bottom dropped away sharply, and I pulled myself down. It took a few seconds to find the car. It stood still, anchored on the muddy river bottom, both doors open.

Jamie—where are you? Why didn't you get out?

Is it really too late?

Yes. I knew it had been nearly five minutes.

Too late . . . too late to be alive.

I pictured Jamie . . . her warm smile . . . would I never see it again?

I felt something move in the water. Startled, I glanced back—and saw Shark swimming hard, close behind me.

I grabbed the open car door and swung myself down. I pushed away a clump of weeds and peered through the murky water into the car.

Jamie stared out at me, her dark brown eyes
open wide. Glassy. Lifeless. Her expression a blank.

My heart skipped a beat. I could feel all my muscles tighten.

I'd never seen a dead person before.

I'd never seen a drowned person before.

A drowned friend . . .

I must have blacked out for a moment. The next thing I knew, Shark had shoved me out of the way. Kicking hard, he lowered himself into the car.

He grabbed Jamie's hands and pulled.

Her body caught on the back of the seat. Her eyes stared at me, empty and wide, not blinking. Her mouth was shut tight, her jaw clenched.

My chest started to ache. I needed to breathe. But I lowered myself beside Shark and took Jamie's hands. They felt limp and lifeless.

Shark gripped her under the shoulders. I pulled her by the hands. She caught against the seat one more time, then slid loose.

Her dark hair floated around her head as we carried her to the surface. We both rose over the water, choking and gasping for air.

Jamie wasn't breathing. I could see that.
Her eyes shut. Her mouth dropped open. Murky river water poured out of her mouth.

We dragged her onto shore. Ada helped us set her down. Ada's cheeks were red and swollen. She had tears running down her face. Dead leaves were caught in her hair.

“I know CPR,” Ada said in a trembling voice. “Put her on her back.”

Shark and I turned her over. She felt like a heavy sack. I knew she wasn't breathing.

“Too late . . . ,” Shark murmured. “It's too late.”

But Ada went to work.

She knelt beside Jamie, clamped two fingers over Jamie's nose, and began blowing into her mouth. One . . . two . . . one . . . two . . . blowing into Jamie's mouth in a steady rhythm.

Then she climbed onto Jamie's waist and began pumping her chest with both hands. Pushing rapidly on her chest, again and again.

More water spewed from Jamie's open mouth.

“Too late,” Shark repeated, shaking his head. “It's been over five minutes. She . . . she . . .”

Jamie uttered a groan.

Her whole body kicked. She groaned again. She opened her eyes. And vomited loudly onto the ground.

Choking, vomiting up puddles of green glop, she blinked her eyes, gaping at us as if she didn't recognize us.

“She's ALIVE!” I shouted. My heart was leaping around in my chest. I wanted to jump up and down for joy. “She's ALIVE!”

Shark and I slapped each other high-fives.

Ada wiped Jamie's mouth with the sleeve of her soaked T-shirt. “Are you okay? Are you really okay?” Tears streamed down Ada's face.

We pulled Jamie up to a sitting position and leaned her against the tree trunk. She blinked at us, shaking her head, shivering. She brushed her hair off her forehead.

“Hi,” she said finally.

“Jamie? You're okay?” I asked, squatting beside her, grabbing her hand. It felt alive now. Her fingers squeezed back.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said. She gazed around. Her eyes stopped on me. “What happened?”

“My car plunged into the water,” I said. “Don't you remember?”

She thought about it for a long moment, then shook her head.

“You were trapped under there for a long time,” Ada said, leaning on my shoulders. “We thought . . . we thought . . .”

Jamie let out a long, loud burp. “I guess I'm all right. I mean, I feel kinda weird. But I'm okay.”

“Man, you were under so long!” Shark exclaimed. “How did you hold your breath so long?”

Jamie crinkled up her face, thinking hard. “I guess all that time on the swim team? I must have really built up my lung power.”

I shivered. “We've got to get home. Get dry clothes.”

“How? We're stuck out here,” Ada said.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. It was soaked, but would it work?

I shook it. Water came spraying off. I tried to call home.

No. The phone was dead.

I turned and saw Shark trying his phone.

Yes! He was speaking to his dad.

I breathed a sigh of relief. After all the horror of the afternoon, I didn't think we
could walk ten miles home.

“Dad'll be here in a few minutes,” Shark said, clicking his phone shut.

Leaning on the tree trunk, Jamie climbed unsteadily to her feet. She took a few shaky steps. “I . . . I'm okay,” she told us.

She turned to me. “Why'd you drive into the river? I mean, what happened to your car, anyway?”

Once again I remembered shifting the car into reverse. Remembered stomping down hard on the brake.

The car ignored me.

The car shot forward on its own.

I frowned at Jamie. I suddenly had all kinds of crazy thoughts in my head. Crazy, weird thoughts. . . .

“Maybe you're right about the witch's spell,” I murmured. “Maybe you're totally right, Jamie. Maybe Candy
is
a witch.”

Had Candy put a curse
on me? Was she casting spells? Because of the pig photo? Because she thought I was responsible for it?

The cockroaches . . . the car flying into the river . . .

It didn't take much to put two and two together—and realize something totally unnatural was going down.

But was it possible? Was I really starting to believe that Candy somehow had evil powers? That Candy was doing these things to me?

How crazy is that?

About a week later, the day I got the car back . . . that's when we decided we had to investigate. We had to do everything we could to find out the truth.

At about two in the morning on a drizzly
Thursday night, four of us—all guys—were sitting in the back booth at Nights. Shark and I were there. And Lewis. And then Galen came in, shaking off rainwater.

Shark seemed thoughtful tonight, and quiet. He sipped from his beer bottle and kept his gaze on the front of the bar.

“I got my car back,” I said.

“Whoa. Was it totally waterlogged?” Galen asked.

I shook my head. “They got it all dried out. My mom has a really awesome mechanic at a garage in the Old Village. Would you believe it runs like new?”