Perilous (11 page)

Chapter 19

Early the next morning they crossed a narrow, two-way road. The woods bordered one side of the road with old country homes on the other side. They continued past them, walking on the outskirts of town until the buildings were closer together.

A little before noon they reached the center of town. An old sign posted on the hillside read, “Johnsburg, Population: 2,450.”

“Quaint,” said Amanda, raising an eyebrow.

Sara looked at the map. “We’re in one of the little towns. It’s so old. I didn’t know places like this still existed.”

“Creepy, if you ask me,” Amanda said, shaking her auburn waves as they walked past a darkened second-hand store. “There’s a reason why they don’t exist, except in old horror movies.”

“We should be safe going to the police here,” Jaci said, casting a glance at Sara.

Sara paused and sat down on a bench in front of a building. It looked like a government building, with big glass windows and tall pillars. “I need to rest a little. Then we can maybe find some food?”

“In the trashcans?” Amanda joked.

“Whatever.” Sara put her head in her hands.

Jaci sat down next to her. She studied a long line of cars parked along the curb on both sides of the street.

Amanda shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I’m hungry, and hot.”

“I’m tossing this bag.” Jaci got up and stepped to a trashcan by the sidewalk. “It’s empty and a burden to carry around.”

“What if we need it again?” asked Sara.

“Let’s put all the water bottles into two bags, and leave the other one behind,” Amanda said. “We can take turns carrying them.”

“Okay,” agreed Jaci. “Put the can opener in the Tupperware and keep that, too. And don’t throw away the flashlight or the compass.”

Behind them a bell rang, and she looked around in surprise. “Oh, it’s a school.” That explained the cars.

Kids of all ages began pouring down the steps, oblivious to the girls. Screaming and yelling, the younger children raced past them, dividing between the waiting string of cars and a line of buses. Parents gathered them up; buses herded others away.

The older teenagers formed little clusters, boys shoving each other and acting macho while girls giggled and chattered.

Jaci eyed them enviously. What a nice, carefree life. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to giggle and chatter over frivolities again.

Who cared what shirt Poppy was wearing? Who cared if Candice didn’t make choir? Who cared if the track team took first at state?

“Let’s go,” Sara said, standing up and starting down the sidewalk.

“Right.” Amanda jumped to her side. “The police department must be somewhere on this street.”

“Since it’s probably the only street in the town,” Jaci laughed, catching up to her friends.

“And about the police thing—” Sara began.

“Look out!” Jaci cried.

Her warning came too late, and Amanda tripped over a boy kneeling on the sidewalk. She stumbled and caught herself.

“Hey,” he said, straightening up. He gave a toss of his head as a piece of his straight brown hair fell onto his forehead. “Watch where you’re going.”

“You were the one kneeling on the sidewalk,” said Amanda.

“I was just tying my shoe,” he replied. He tugged on his gray sweater, which fit snuggly over his broad shoulders.

Amanda ducked her head, her demeanor changing. Grabbing a strand of hair in her hands, she ran her fingers through it, cocking her head to one side. “Oh! Excuse me. I-I’m sorry.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” he said, his voice lightening and giving her a boyish grin, the corners of his deep-set hazel eyes crinkling. “Don’t worry about it. I should’ve put up a warning sign. My name is Neal. What’s yours?”

“Oh, I’m…um…” She appeared confused, batting her eyes and staring at him.

Amanda’s shirt was dirty, a strand of grass poked out of the top of her head, and a black smudge darkened her cheekbone. Certainly this kid wasn’t going to miss that. Such theatrics. “Don’t get sidetracked,” said Jaci. “The police, remember?”

Sara poked her. “Yeah, Amanda. You’re Amanda.”

“Amanda. My name is Amanda.” She shot Jaci an annoyed look. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to tell.”

“Amanda? What, is it a secret? Are you sure it’s your real name?” The boy laughed. “Who are your friends?”

“My friends?”

“Yeah.” Neal raised an eyebrow. “Or are these girls just following you around?”

“This is Jaci, and that’s Sara.”

“Are you new here? Cause I think I know everyone in town. I didn’t see you in school.”

“No. Just passing through,” Jaci answered. “Bye, Neal. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Amanda remained rooted to the spot. “It was nice to meet you, Neal.”

He hesitated, and then said, “Well, if you’re just passing through, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to hang out for a bit. I mean, you look like you could use some lunch…maybe a shower…” He trailed off awkwardly, and Jaci bit her lip to keep from laughing.

So he had noticed their condition. He didn’t seem very threatening. Just a boy.

“You know, a shower would be really nice,” Jaci admitted. “And lunch. But don’t you think your mom would flip?”

“Yeah, so maybe not a shower. But you could freshen up a bit, relax. You’ve been camping awhile, I guess, huh? My house isn’t too far away. Besides, my brother might want to meet you.”

Jaci hesitated. They didn’t really know this kid, after all.

“Um, no. We need to get going.” The thought of food was tempting, but there was no way she would willingly walk into a stranger’s house. Sara huddled closer to her.

“Come on,” said Amanda, annoyance evident in her voice. “We need to accept help when it’s offered.”

Jaci ignored her. “So there’s you and your brother at your house? Anyone else?”

“Oh, of course,” he said. “My grandmother will be there.”

Jaci’s reluctance faded away. “Oh, well, maybe just a really quick lunch.”

They needed food, after all, and this would be better than digging through trash bins. She looked at Sara. “Do you feel okay about that?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I think that’s fine.”

“Great.” Amanda swung her arms. “Let’s go.”

Neal shrugged. “Okay. Follow me.”

They stood on the sidewalk, staring at an unkempt, moderate-sized house. The overgrown lawn almost swallowed the front door that didn’t fit right, and the paint was peeling off the shutters.

“Who did you say you live with?” asked Sara.

“No one,” Neal said. “I mean, we live with someone. With family. We’re doing just fine.”

Jaci glanced at Sara. “Like, your grandma?”

“Yeah, yeah. We live with our grandma.” Neal pushed open the front door and stepped in.

Amanda hesitated in the doorway. He turned halfway and beckoned. “It’s okay. Come on in.”

The sunlight that filtered in through the bent blinds on the windows revealed a cluttered mess. And it stank of trash and mildew. Neal turned on a light, further illuminating the disorganized house. He poked his head in the kitchen and began calling through the house. “Hello? Anyone home?”

He started down the hall and turned a corner, stepping into another room.

Amanda went down the hall after Neal. Jaci let go of the doorknob and dashed after her, not about to let her out of her sight.

“Ricky, what do you think you’re doing?” said Neal, crossing his arms over his chest.

Maroon curtains were pulled shut over the windows, blocking any sunlight from brightening the room. Over in a corner of the dirty red carpet, nearly concealed by the darkness, sat a boy who looked just like Neal, all the way down to his clothes.

He lifted his eyes, rather sheepishly. In his hand was a firecracker, flickering in the dark room. A bucket, a glass plate, and a sleeping bag were the only other objects in the room.

He put the firecracker down on the plate and stood up. “Hey, Collins, what’s up?”

“You know you shouldn’t be playing with fire. Mom’ll have a cow.”

Jaci grabbed Amanda’s arm and glanced at Neal.
If he’d have said Grandma it would’ve sounded more natural.
She saw Ricky raise an eyebrow.

Turning to them, Neal said, “Ricky’s a pyro. He’s not supposed to touch fire or matches. And he knows it, too.”

Ricky shrugged. “I like fire. And I’m being careful.” He gestured at the bucket full of water. “I’ve timed it. I’ll dunk it before it hits the explosive.”

Ricky studied the girls in the doorway. “Who are all of you, anyway?”

“I’m Amanda, this is Jaci, and over there is Sara.”

Jaci cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’re going now, Neal.”

It was clear he was a liar. She didn’t feel afraid, just majorly put out. She eyed the boys. “Are you guys twins?”

Ricky grinned, a cocky expression on his face. “Yeah, we’re twins. And identical. But I’m Ricky, the cute one who gets all the girls.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Quit fooling around. I—” Neal glanced at Jaci. “Mom and Dad said no fire. The consequences are very serious. We’ve been over this so many times.”

“I’m sure you mean your grandma,” Jaci cut in dryly. “Since she’s the one who lives with you?”

Neal’s ears turned pink. “Right, of course, we live with her. But our parents still have a say in things.”

Ricky grinned. “You’d think you were the older twin. Nothing to worry about, Collins. Trust me.”

Neal stepped over to the firecracker. “Put that thing out.”

Ricky picked it up and dunked it into the waiting bucket.

Neal said, “This is my irresponsible brother, Ricky. Are you hungry?”

“Yes—” Ricky began, but Neal shoved him, and he shut up.

“If you don’t mind.” Jaci’s hands shook, and it took all her will power not to let herself into the kitchen.

“Uh, there’s not much here,” Ricky said, shooting a look at his brother. “We’re a little short on groceries.”

“We don’t mind,” she said. “We’ll find something.”

Neal looked less certain. “I’ll show you the kitchen.”

The fridge had sour milk and a half-eaten container of yogurt. Sara opened a drawer and a cockroach waddled out.

“Ew,” she said, then grabbed a spoon.

Jaci’s stomach growled as she yanked open a cupboard. A bag of Doritos. She pulled it down, ripping it open. Ah, the smell of powdery, salted cheese.

“Sorry there’s not more,” Neal said, his face flushed in the dim kitchen light. “There are lots of places that serve lunch, or there’s the deli. We’ll take you there. We’ve got money.”

Jaci closed her eyes, feeling the Dorito soften on her tongue. “Anywhere,” she said.

She opened her eyes, remembering Neal’s original offer of cleaning up. “Um, can I use your restroom first?”

“Peanut butter.” Sara climbed off the counter, twisting the lid off a jar, her spoon still in her mouth.

“Oh, sure,” said Neal. “Use our parents’ though. Cleaner. You can take the peanut butter with you.”

The three girls stepped into the master bedroom. Jaci closed the door and locked it. Her eyes fell on an end table near the bed. She stepped to it and tried to pull it across the carpet.

“Amanda, help me,” she grunted.

“What are we doing?” Amanda joined her, pushing while Jaci pulled.

“Making sure no one comes in while we’re in here.” They placed the end table against the door.

Sara turned on the light, illuminating a dusty but well-kept room. Even the queen-sized bed was made. A beautiful hand-woven purple and green afghan dangled over the foot.

“At least it’s clean in here. There’s your bathroom, Jaci.” Amanda pointed.

“We should hurry.” Jaci headed for the bathroom. “I don’t know if we can trust these boys. They’re lying.”

“Lots of boys lie.” Amanda shrugged. “They won’t turn us in, if that’s what you think.”

It wasn’t what she thought, but it made her uneasy. She wanted to hurry and get out of here.

Jaci closed the door behind her and examined the bathroom. It looked like it hadn’t been used in weeks.

She turned on the water in the shower. A bottle of shampoo sat neatly on the rim. Either a mom or a grandmother lived here with the boys. They were just normal teenagers, after all.

She filled three water bottles in the sink before stepping into the shower. She showered in under seven minutes, and Sara and Amanda were just as fast.

Half an hour later, Ricky and Neal herded them out of the house. Their clothes were still worn and dirty, but their bodies were clean again.

Jaci tried to remember how long it had been. They had bathed right before leaving the cabin in Canada. And that had been—she tried to count in her head—five or six nights ago.