The Night Walker (Nightmare Hall)
Read The Night Walker (Nightmare Hall) Online
Authors: Diane Hoh
The Night Walker
Diane Hoh
Prologue
D
ARKNESS.
A
THICK CURTAIN
of soft velvety black.
Quinn Hadley stood in the door of her dorm room, arms outstretched in front of her. Her eyes were wide open. But they saw nothing.
She took one small cautious step, then another, her eyes gazing blankly out into the hallway.
Cold. Piercing cold.
Quinn shivered, clutching her thin nightgown around her.
The wandering had happened before. But she never knew … not until it was too late.
Silence. Not a sound.
But soon the screaming would begin.
Quinn’s roommate awakened just in time to see Quinn head off down the hallway.
As if on a mission.
A deadly mission.
S
UDDENLY, THERE WAS A
hand on Quinn Hadley’s left arm, its cool fingers encircling her wrist. A familiar voice said with a hint of irritation, “Oh, Quinn, not again! How am I supposed to get any sleep if I have to hunt down my roommate in the middle of the night? I’ve got a heavy-duty psych exam tomorrow morning at eight. At
eight,
Quinn!”
Quinn, her dark brown eyes open but glazed, turned to face the voice. But she really didn’t
see
the small, thin girl with very short ginger-colored hair and sleep-swollen green eyes. “I was
asleep,
Quinn! The way you should be. Well, I guess you still are, in a way. I know I’m not supposed to wake you up, so come on,” she said, beginning to lead Quinn down the darkened hallway on the sixth floor in Devereaux dorm at Salem University. “Can we please go back to bed now?”
They padded quietly down the hallway, a tiny girl in a white T-shirt leading a tall, slender, silent figure who moved mechanically, robotlike. Because the girl named Quinn didn’t argue or make any noise, no doors opened, no curious heads peered out to see what was going on.
“I specifically asked for a nonsmoking roommate,” the small girl grumbled as she reached out to turn a doorknob. “It never occurred to me to request a nonsleepwalker! Who’d think of something like that?”
The door opened. Quinn was led inside and deposited firmly on one of a pair of long, narrow beds set against opposite walls. “Now,
stay
there,” Quinn was told. “Please! I need my rest.”
Quinn obediently lay down on the bed, curling her freezing feet tightly inside the blankets to warm them.
“This can’t keep up,” the voice continued, as bedsprings creaked across the room. “I get so cranky when I don’t get enough sleep. The worst part is, you probably won’t even remember this in the morning …” The voice trailed off and became deep, even breathing. Asleep.
Quinn lay very still on her bed, her eyes closed. She was completely awake now. The sound of the door closing behind them had snapped her back to reality. The voice, she knew, belonged to Tobie Thomason, her roommate in room 602. She knew, too, although she hated to admit it, that Tobie had just rescued her from a sleepwalking episode.
Quinn tingled with shame. A college freshman, sleepwalking! Just like when she was a little kid in footed pajamas, wandering around in the dark looking for … for what? She’d never figured that out. Looking for her parents? For safety? No, her room had always felt perfectly safe. She’d never been afraid of the dark.
Her parents had never come up with an answer, either. When the problem worsened in Quinn’s adolescence, her slightly embarrassed mother had taken her to a psychiatrist.
“Stress,” he had announced firmly. “Alleviate the girl’s stress and the problem will end.”
And her mother had responded heatedly, “She’s a
teenager,
doctor. Her entire
life
is stressful. Should we lock her in her room until she’s twenty-one?”
Quinn had smiled, but the doctor hadn’t. “No,” he had said seriously, “that would be too drastic. However, it might be prudent to try locking her bedroom door at night. Just, of course, until she’s over this crisis.”
Her first visit with the good doctor had been the last.
Her parents
had,
though, locked her bedroom door, after installing a very expensive smoke alarm.
Several months later, the episodes had ended, for no apparent reason, just as they’d begun.
There had been a second siege shortly after her fifteenth birthday, and a third when she was sixteen. Each time, her parents had begun locking her bedroom door again until the episodes abruptly ended.
There had been no more since she was sixteen.
So it had been a terrible shock when Tobie had told Quinn about the first incident at Salem.
It was back at the beginning of the year. Orientation was behind them and their room had achieved some semblance of order. Their personalities were very different. Quinn was almost hyperactive, always on the move. If she was sitting still, her fingers were busy doodling or fidgeting with a paper clip or a pen or, in a restaurant, the salt and pepper shakers. Tobie was quieter and had a lot less energy. She often took naps after classes, and many evenings she was “too tired” to go out. The running joke in the dorm was that the two were “The Odd Couple” because Quinn, who needed to be occupied at all times, was a neat freak, and Tobie was the complete opposite.
“You’re a dropper,” Quinn had joked when they’d been in the room less than a week. “You come in and drop your books on your bed, you take your clothes off and drop them on the floor, and you drop your wet towels on the tile in the bathroom. My mother calls that a dropper.”
Tobie’s excuse was that it took too much energy to put things away.
But because Quinn appreciated having a calmer, quieter roommate to offset her own restless energy, and because Tobie liked the idea of having someone else keep things reasonably neat, they had settled into their new routine without too much effort.
Until Tobie told Quinn, one brisk September morning, “You were walking in your sleep last night.”
Quinn had stared at her, awash with dismay.
“I woke up and your bed was empty,” Tobie explained hesitantly, aware of Quinn’s embarrassment. “At first, I thought you were in the bathroom. But when you didn’t come back, I went hunting for you. You were just about to go down the fire stairs when I spotted you. You’d already opened the door.
That
really scared me. That stairway is dark. You could have fallen.”
Quinn had had such a hard time dealing with this new episode, she’d talked to one of the school counselors. He, too, had mentioned “stress,” but had been more understanding than the first doctor. “I know it’s hard, now that you’re at college. So much to do. But you must try to get plenty of sleep, don’t wear yourself out studying or partying, and try some deep breathing exercises to help you relax before you go to sleep.”
The advice was sound, and had seemed to be working.
So it was a bitter disappointment to realize that she had once again been prowling around the halls in her sleep.
Tears of frustration stabbed at Quinn’s eyelids. There was no way in the world to keep every ounce of stress out of her life. That wasn’t possible, not for anyone. Unless you lived in a bubble. This business with Simon, was that what had triggered this latest episode? She’d taken a nocturnal walk in the cold darkness because Simon Kent had suddenly and without explanation lost all interest in her?
No. No! That couldn’t be what it was! She refused to believe that anyone had that kind of power over her. Not even someone as terrific as Simon had
seemed
to be.
It had to be something else. Maybe it was her killer calculus class. Maybe she was homesick. It could be anything. It
wasn’t
Simon Kent.
Forcing herself to breathe deeply, Quinn pushed from her mind the nasty shock of finding herself sleepwalking again. Sleep … she needed sleep.
She needed sleep because this weekend was Spring Fling. A very big deal at Salem University. There were parties, bands, and activities out on the Commons, and the big formal dance …
She wasn’t going to the dance. Not now.
But she’d be going to all of the other events, and she didn’t want to be too tired.
Quinn rolled over on her side, wondering if Tobie would request a different roommate now. Her last thought before she finally fell into a deep sleep was, I don’t want another roommate. She’s not exactly Miss Excitement and she’s as sloppy as a two-year-old, but I don’t want to start all over again with someone new.
Quinn fell asleep envisioning a long line of new roommates, all of them staying in 602 only a night or two before packing their bags and jumping ship. Who wants to room with someone who haunts the halls at night like a vampire?
Quinn saw Simon twice the following Friday on the Commons. Both times, he hurried past her, his thin shoulders bent, his eyes on the ground as if he expected to find something of value there. But she knew he was only avoiding her eyes.
Her heartache was mixed with anger. It’s your own fault, Simon Kent, she thought as she lifted her head very high. We were having such a wonderful time, and you ended it, just like that, without a word. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you.
At least he hadn’t ruined Salem for her. She loved the campus, with its rolling green lawns, its huge old trees now beginning to bud, its old but sturdy brick and stone buildings, some covered with vines. She had felt at home here from the very first. And she had made so many other friends besides Simon.
“I’m sorry you’re not going to the dance,” Tobie told Quinn quietly as they walked back to the dorm that night. “I guess everyone still thinks you and Simon are an item. You could have asked someone, Quinn.”
Quinn shook her head. “Not interested. And I don’t want to talk about it. It’s been a long day and I’m really tired.” She forced a grin. “I don’t think you have to worry about me waking you up tonight. I should sleep like the dead.”
“I’m not worried. You’ve only walked in your sleep twice. Don’t make it sound like you do it all the time.”
“But I might,” Quinn replied lightly, to hide the fear that had begun haunting her again, just as it had when she was in high school.
She couldn’t believe it had started all over again.
Saturday was as busy as Friday, with a carnival out on the Commons. The events had been planned by Jessica Vogt and Ian Banion. They both lived at Nightingale Hall, an off-campus dorm a short distance from the university. A gloomy old brick house set high up on a hill, the place had been nicknamed “Nightmare Hall” following the tragic death of a girl who lived there.
Quinn liked both Jess and Ian. Jess was thin and pretty, with very short dark hair, and very nice. Ian was tall and good-looking, with shoulder-length hair the color of charcoal. They were a great couple.
All of it was fun. The hard part came later for Quinn, watching Tobie dress for the dance. And when a friend of theirs, Ivy Green, and her roommate, Suze Blythe, arrived from their room down the hall to “check out Tobie’s dress,” Quinn had to bite down hard on her lower lip to keep from crying out, “It’s not fair! My first Spring Fling at Salem and I’m not even going to the big dance.”
It’s my own fault, she scolded silently. I was dumb enough to keep hoping until the last minute that Simon would recover from whatever was bugging him, and ask me. And he didn’t. So here I am.
Ivy, her silky black hair swept sleekly away from her fair, oval face, said as she entered, “I can’t believe you didn’t invite someone to this dance, Quinn. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Her tone of voice made it clear that fish would fly before Ivy Green sat alone in her room on a Saturday night.
