The Disappearing (3 page)

The little girl kicks the ball. Tim chases after it, but the bright yellow orb goes flying under a table in the back part of the playground.

Laughing.

The voices of children everywhere.

A tall, leafy tree hangs low over the table, obscuring it from sight.

Tim is on his knees now, crawling under the table, extending his hand toward the ball. But it's just out of reach.

Creeping further into the darkness, he feels the fabric on his pants tear away at the knee.

But he will not be deterred.

Further under the table he goes, stretching his arm until he can feel the smooth surface of the ball.

He grasps it with his fingertips, pulling it toward him.

As he begins to inch his way back out, he is startled by a noise.

Did someone just scream out for help?

The man pursuing him is close; he can hear twigs snap under heavy feet, pounding into the grass just behind him. Ahead, a patch of flowers and a yellow house, if he can just get there . . .

Tim's eyes pop open as he quickly sits straight up in bed, covered in sweat, his heart racing.

It was the same nightmare with the same yellow house . . . but not exactly the same.

This time there was a bit more.

The ball, some girl, and a scream?

“Ugh, whatever,” he sighed with disgust.

He felt as though he hadn't slept at all. It was the first day back at school, and for the first time he could remember, Tim was not looking forward to it at all.

Eva was still missing.

And now Anthony was gone, too.

What was happening?

At the party two nights ago, they had searched everywhere. But Anthony was nowhere to be found.

He wasn't home. He wasn't anywhere.

The police had been called and arrived on the scene within minutes.

They searched, they questioned everyone. Anthony was gone.

Once the sun had come out, the grounds were searched again, but to no avail. And another night passed with no answers and no sign of Eva or Anthony.

Tim dragged himself out of bed and headed into the bathroom for a shower.

He let the hot water wash over him. This was going to be a long day.

After a quick change into khakis and a white shirt, he leaped down the stairs two at a time. He blew past the kitchen where his mother was making breakfast.

“Tim?” she called to him. “Eat something.”

He breezed past her, planting a small kiss on her cheek, before hightailing it out the front door.

“Not hungry, Mom. See you later.”

“Tim, be careful!” she called out just before he hopped on his skateboard and headed down the winding road to school.

The school was a large, two-story brick building with stairs leading to a massive entryway. But he was early—not time to go inside yet. So he headed to the common area out front and sat along the edge of the fountain, a meeting spot for students.

He put his backpack down and surveyed the crowd. There seemed to be even more people than usual milling about.

Oh, and Nina was here already, several dozen feet away, her back turned to him. She was talking to some guy.

Who was that?

He couldn't quite make him out.

Tim craned his neck a bit to see . . .

“Hey, bro.”

Luke had sidled up right beside him and he hadn't even noticed.

Tim turned to him and laughed.

“Geez, man, you're like a phantom.”

Luke chuckled back, but his eyes took on a serious note as he looked around.

“Do you see them?” he asked.

“See who?”

Luke turned back to his friend.

“The men,” he whispered. “The police, I guess. They're everywhere.”

Tim looked again.

How had he not noticed them before?

He suspected it was probably because he had only been interested in what Nina was doing and with whom she was talking at the moment.

There must have been at least ten of them, talking to students and teachers. Two of them were stationed right by the school's entrance just observing the crowd.

Max motioned a greeting from across the lawn and jogged up to his friends.

“I think someone else is missing.”

Tim and Luke looked up at him in disbelief.

“You mean Anthony, right?”

“No, man,” Max replied softly. “I don't.”

The boys stared at each other in silence for a moment.

Tim was afraid to ask, but of course he had to know.

“Who?”

Max lowered his face.

“It's Emily's sister. It's Isabelle.”

Tim's throat tightened. He tried to respond, but it took everything he had just to breathe.

The school bell rang out, signaling there were seven minutes left to get to class.

The day went by in a blur. The only part he really remembered was the morning announcement that curfew was now in effect; no one allowed out after dark.

Emily was not in school that day or the next.

On the third day, she came back, her eyes red and swollen.

They had all promised to be there for her, whatever she needed.

At lunch, they all sat at the same round table they always did. Emily's food went untouched, and she rested her head on Nina's shoulder.

“Who could have taken Isabelle?” she said through tears.

“Isabelle will be fine,” was all Luke could think to say.

“They'll find her,” Max added. “I know they will.”

Tim was at a complete loss for words.

He had no idea what to say—or what to think. So he just put his hand on Emily's shoulder and squeezed.

Later that night, he sat out on his front porch swing, the front door wide open so his parents could see him at all times per their request.

Who could be doing this? He thought hard. He knew everyone so well. It had to be an outsider.

Then he thought about the stranger he'd seen, the man with the short, yellow hair, standing outside of Luke's house.

But now that he pondered the question for a few moments, he had to admit there were a few “weirdos” in town—people he knew less than others.

Like the strange woman who always stared out her window and hardly ever came outside. Or Mr. Kull, who yelled at any kid who tried to cut through his yard, a shortcut to the beach.

But why?

Why would anyone be taking the kids of Briny Deep?

Tim was so lost in thought, he hadn't seen Luke approaching the house until he was standing right in front of him. He had clearly been running and was visibly shaken.

“Luke, what the . . . ?”

“That stranger . . . ,” Luke gasped, trying to catch his breath. “The one we both saw.”

“Yeah? What about him?”

“He's after me!”

Luke rushed past Tim and hurried inside the house.

“Come on! He's out there!”

Tim jumped up and took a long look into the darkness.

Nothing moved. It was silent. And then . . . he saw something, just behind a tree, a shadow.

Yellow hair.

Tim was so startled he nearly knocked a planter over in his hurry to get inside.

Both boys ran until they were at the top of the stairs.

“What's going on?” Tim's mom called out.

“Mom, he's out there, the stranger I told the police about!”

“He followed . . .”

Before the words had left his mouth, Tim's dad had grabbed a bat and was outside.

After running up and down the street a few times, it was clear whoever had been out there was now gone.

He came racing back inside.

“Call the police.”

When the authorities arrived, they spent over an hour searching the area and questioning Luke about the incident. But whoever had been out there was definitely long gone now.

“I left my house later than I meant to,” he explained to his interrogator. “My dad told me to get here before dark, and I guess I just lost track of time.”

Because Rusty had been called out of town on some last-minute business, arrangements had been made earlier that morning for Luke to spend the night at Tim's.

“I heard a noise behind me—footsteps—so I turned around and no one was there, but then I saw it.”

“You saw what exactly?” asked the officer with just a hint of impatience.

“A man with yellow hair,” he said, his voice shaking. “He was just standing behind a tree . . . watching me.”

“Did he threaten you or say anything to you?”

“I didn't hang around to find out if he would. I just ran.”

After the police left, Tim and Luke retreated to the bedroom, but sleep wasn't easy to come by. So they whispered in the darkness about all the strange events going on in Briny Deep.

At some point, Tim remembered a question he'd been meaning to ask Luke all day. With all the excitement, it had slipped his mind.

“Hey, bro, the other night when we were playing hide and seek in your house, I found a photo of your parents . . . with another kid. Who is that?”

Luke turned pale.

“You found a photo of him?” he whispered. “I thought they had gotten rid of all the photos.”

Tim stared at his friend, not wanting to push too much. This was clearly not a good memory for him.

“That was my brother,” Luke said, his head hanging down. “He died when I was still pretty young, just before my mom.”

Tim's eyes opened wide with amazement.

How did he not know this?

Why had no one ever mentioned it?

He sensed that Luke was getting upset. And with all the drama he'd already suffered earlier, Tim figured it was best to change the topic. But he did make a mental note to talk to him more about it later, once everything else had calmed down.

By three o'clock in the morning, the boys had exhausted themselves talking about the man with the yellow hair, the missing kids, and the people they thought were strange in town.

The next day, school whizzed by. Armed security guards were situated at every entry and exit. All everyone talked about were the missing kids. Some kids weren't in school because their parents had decided it was too dangerous to let them out of their sight, so there were a lot less bodies walking the halls.

After school, Luke headed back home to pick up another change of clothes because his dad had been detained out of town another night. Tim and Max had offered to go with him, but in the light of day, any kind of fear Luke had about the stranger was gone. So instead, the two boys made a stop at Emily's house to check on her. Nina was already there, trying very hard to offer her some comfort.

The mood in the house was solemn. Tim and Max each took a seat but weren't sure what to say.

“I heard you saw him,” a stern voice called from the stairs.

It was Emily's dad.

He was a big, imposing man. Not one for small talk and certainly not the kind to be crossed, thought Tim.

“The stranger, you saw him . . . and Luke . . . Luke saw him, too,” he continued, sounding almost accusatory. “Well, am I right?”

Now he sounded angry.

“Only for a minute, sir,” Tim said softly. “And I think the same guy followed Luke the other night.”

From somewhere behind Emily's dad, another voice joined in the conversation.

“We have no indication there was ever a stranger,” said a cold, harsh voice.

The man who had just spoken appeared from the shadows and approached Tim.

“Young man, you and your friend Luke are the only people who claim to have seen this stranger with the yellow hair.”

As he spoke, the man used two fingers to put air quotes around the word “seen.”

“No one else in town has seen him, why do you think that is?”

Tim shrugged and looked down at his feet.

“Eva's parents said she had seen him, too,” he said.

This man looked hard at Tim and shook his head.

“We think it was likely someone else—someone she knew.”

It was then that Tim noticed the badge. He was with the police; one of the same guys that had been on the beach a few days ago.

“You mean someone from town?” Tim stammered.

“Yes,” he answered. “Maybe even someone you know.”

“Someone I know?”

After eyeing Tim for a few more moments, the officer turned to Emily's father and the two disappeared into the den together.

Following a bit more small talk with his friends, Tim said an awkward good-bye to the group and made the short walk up the street to his house, looking nervously behind him only once . . . maybe twice.

When he reached the steps of his house, Tim noticed that Luke's bike wasn't out front. He'd made a big deal out of telling his dad on the phone that he would ride his bike over right after he grabbed an outfit from home. Since it wasn't there that meant neither was Luke.

Tim grabbed the skateboard he'd left upside down in the front yard and headed down the hill to Luke's house. Dusk was falling and even though the sun was still up, it wouldn't be for long. It made him chuckle a little to imagine Luke's face once he realized he lost track of time again and it was getting dark.

Besides, he couldn't wait to tell Luke about the angry guy and his insinuation that they simply hadn't seen what they claimed. Like he thought they imagined it, or worse, made it up.

He glided down the path leading to Luke's front door. When he got to the end, he jumped off the board and jogged up the front steps.

Tim knocked—once, twice.

No answer.

He peered in the window. Nothing moved.

He reached for the door and turned the knob. The door creaked open, and Tim walked inside.

The house was silent. He walked in a little farther and called out.

“Luke?”

No response.

He started to head across the house to the stairs but stopped before reaching them.

Something felt weird . . . almost like he was being watched. He didn't like it.

For a moment he was frozen in the same spot, unsure whether to move forward or go back.

He listened for any sound—almost afraid to hear one.

Why did he feel so uneasy? This was practically his second home.

He was just being silly. Luke was probably waiting for him at his house right now.

He turned and walked quickly toward the front door. In his mind, he envisioned a hand falling hard on his shoulder, grabbing him back into the house.

It seemed to take twice as long to make his way back. When he finally reached the door, he was moving so fast that his heart was pounding and his breathing was labored. But he didn't take even a second to catch his breath.

He hopped right on his board and headed home.

As he approached his house, he noticed his mom was outside. The sun was just about to set. It would be dark within minutes.

“Where is Luke?” she asked when he was closer.

Tim suddenly felt very cold.

“He's not here?”

She slowly shook her head and her eyes grew wide.

•••••

The man pursuing him is close; he can hear twigs snap under heavy feet, pounding into the grass just behind him. Ahead, a patch of flowers and a yellow house, if he can just get there, but then he remembers he won't make it.

He never does.

The rock, hidden in the grass, is steps away. Tim trips, landing on his knees, a strong hand grips his shoulder, pulling him away again.

When Tim opened his eyes, he was covered in sweat.

His heart was racing as it usually did after the nightmare. As the fog of sleep faded away and he became more alert to the sun shining in his face, a sharp pain ripped through his stomach, as the painful memory that sleep had subdued came back full force.

Four kids were missing: Eva, Anthony, Isabelle, and now Luke.

In the days following Luke's disappearance, the town of Briny Deep was thrown into an all-out state of emergency.

As far as anyone in town knew, there was no sign of any of them. They had simply—vanished.

It had been decided that schools would be closed, in addition to every road in and out of Briny Deep.

Curfew had been extended to all day. With the exception of adults going to work and getting supplies like food, gas, and other necessities, no one was allowed off their own property.

Children were to stay indoors at all times. No exceptions. At least one adult was required to remain home in order to watch over the kids and make sure this rule was followed without fail.

Tim groaned in pain, though not the physical kind. He sat up, threw his legs over the side of his bed, and hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his eyes. He was so caught up in a mix of anguish and confusion that he hadn't heard his mother enter the room. She sat down next to him and extended an arm around her son's back.

“I'm just so glad that you are safe,” she said softly in his ear.

It was of no comfort to Tim.

Something was
very wrong
in Briny Deep and he was going to find out what.

If the authorities couldn't find his friends—then
he
would.