The Third Evil (11 page)

“No! Please!”

The voice laughed again. The green fog folded in on itself, billowing and bending in the dark, cold room.

And then it floated rapidly up to the ceiling.

Her entire body shuddering violently, gripped in panic, Corky's breath caught in her throat. She stared in horror as the green gas spread over the ceiling, blanketing the light fixture to darken the room.

Corky grabbed her bedspread and pulled it up to her chin.

She thought of burrowing beneath it—but she knew that it wouldn't hide her from this powerful evil.

Above her the gas bubbled and billowed. Then, suddenly, it began to rain down on Corky, a heavy green dew, foul-smelling and damp.

Corky closed her eyes and covered her face with both hands.

The heavy dew descended over her, smothered her with its odor. Heavier. Heavier. Weighing her down as if it were a heavy old quilt.

I can't breathe, she thought. It's
suffocating
me.

Heavier. Heavier.

She felt so sleepy. So far away. The room seemed to fade into the distance.
She
seemed to fade with it.

As the sickening green liquid fell on her, Corky was floating away from herself.

Floating, floating into grayness.

Floating far away as the green gas filled her up, filled her mind, took over her body.

In a short while Corky was gone.

The evil force was completely in control.

She stood up, straightened her T-shirt, and walked over to her phone, taking long, steady strides.

Picking up the receiver, she punched in Debra's number. A few seconds later Debra was on the other end.

“Can you meet me?” Corky asked calmly. “I have something important to tell you.”

Debra agreed.

Corky pulled a brush through her hair, then hurried downstairs. She grabbed up the car keys and called to her parents that she'd be back in a few hours.

Then she headed out to kill Debra.

G
ripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands, Corky leaned forward against the shoulder belt and headed the blue Accord along Old Mill Road in the direction of the Division Street mall.

I'm coming, Debra, she thought.

I'm coming to get you.

A smile passed across her face as she blinked her eyes in the white glare of oncoming headlights.

Debra and Hannah. They were quite a team at camp. Just about inseparable.

Well, I think I can separate you now, Corky thought darkly. I think the grave will separate you from your pal Hannah!

The thought pleased Corky greatly as she remembered how Debra had refused to interrupt her conversation with Hannah to come talk with her. How
Debra went everywhere with Hannah, forgetting entirely about Corky. How Debra defended Hannah. How Debra voted that Hannah should have the top spot on the pyramid.

Debra, Debra, Debra. What a bad choice you made, Corky thought.

She sped up to pass a slow-moving station wagon filled with kids. Shadows rolled across her smiling face as the tall street lamps whirred past.

After waiting at the stoplight, she made a left onto Division Street, unexpectedly crowded with cars inching along.

Debra had explained over the phone that she had to pick up some things for her mother at the mall. “Mom had kids just so she'd have slaves,” Debra had complained. “That's all she does ever since I got my drivers license—sends me off to the mall to buy stuff for her.”

Corky had tsk-tsked sympathetically, thinking all the while about how much she was going to enjoy seeing the end of Debra. Debra and her cold blue eyes. Debra and that chic short haircut. Debra and that goofy crystal she was always fingering as if it had some strange power.

Power? What a laugh. I'll show her
power,
Corky thought gleefully.

She had arranged to meet Debra in the far corner of the parking lot in back of the big Dalby's department store. No one parked back there, Corky knew, unless the rest of the lot was filled. It would most likely be deserted this time of night.

Corky turned the Accord into the mall and headed
for the back. She saw two boys from school standing at the ticket window to the sixplex movie theater.

She stopped to let a woman pushing a filled shopping cart pass, then continued behind the department store.

This vast lot was nearly deserted, dotted only with cars that probably belonged to store workers.

Corky's eyes eagerly roamed the dimly lit lot.

Yes. There was Debra. Standing in a puddle of gray light, all alone at the back of the lot, her hands stuffed in her jeans pockets.

This is so easy, Corky thought. So totally
easy!

Aiming the car at Debra, she pushed her foot down hard on the gas pedal. All the way down!

The car lurched forward with a roar.

Debra, staring at the other end of the lot, didn't notice her at first.

Then her mouth dropped open in a silent scream and her eyes bulged with fright as she realized the blue Accord was roaring at her.

So easy, Corky thought gleefully. This is
so easy!

A
s the car roared toward its target, Corky leaned forward against the shoulder belt, her eyes glowing with anticipation, her lips twisted in a triumphant grin.

Captured in the twin white headlights, Debra's face was a perfect portrait of horror.

She knows she's dead, Corky thought gleefully.

She can already feel it. She can already feel the car as it crushes her, the pain coursing through her body, the gasping for breath that won't come.

Die, Debra! Die!

As the car roared toward collision, Debra leapt away. Out of the light. Onto a low concrete divider.

Corky's car slammed into the divider with a deafening
crunch.
Then it bounced off and lurched into a lamppost.

“Ooof!”

Corky was jolted hard: forward so that the steering wheel shot into her chest, then back, her head slamming against the headrest with jarring force.

She stared straight ahead into the darkness, waiting for the pain to stop shooting through her body.

Silence.

The engine must have cut off.

Where's Debra? Corky wondered, unfastening the seat belt.

Did she get away?

The pain melted quickly. The ancient powers pushed the pain away.

Maybe Debra is under the car, Corky thought hopefully.

Loud, insistent tapping on the window beside her head startled her. She turned to see Debra, alive and healthy, tapping with one hand, a worried look on her face. “Corky—are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Sighing in disappointment, Corky pushed open the car door. “I'm okay.” She climbed out into the sultry night air.

“What
happened?”
Debra demanded. “I—I was so scared. I thought you were going to mow me down!”

“The accelerator stuck,” Corky told her. “I couldn't get the car to slow down. I—I completely lost control.”

“How awful!” Debra exclaimed. Impulsively, she hugged Corky. “You're really okay? You hit that post pretty hard!”

Corky took a step back and examined the car. The left bumper had been crushed in. “Dad'll have a cow!” she said, shaking her head.

“But you're okay? Your head? Your neck?” Debra's face revealed her concern.

“I'm fine. Really,” Corky replied impatiently. “How about you?”

“My heart is still racing, but I'm fine,” Debra told her.

“Get in,” Corky said, motioning toward the passenger door. “I've got to talk to you. It's pretty important.”

“Maybe we should call a tow truck or your dad or something,” Debra suggested.

“No. The car will probably still drive,” Corky said, lowering her eyes to the damaged bumper. “I'll test it. Come on, get in. This is important.”

“Why don't we take my car?” Debra insisted, pointing to her red Geo on the other side of the divider.

“I want to try
my
car,” Corky snapped angrily. “I'll drop you off at your car when we're finished—okay?”

Debra stared at her intently. “Wow, Corky—I've never seen you like this.”

“Well, I'm very worried about Kimmy, and I need to talk to you,” Corky said. She lowered herself back into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she waited while Debra made her way around the car and climbed into the passenger seat, a thoughtful expression on her pretty face.

“Kimmy? What about Kimmy?” Debra asked. “I talked to her this afternoon. She seemed fine.”

Corky didn't reply. She turned the key, and the
engine started right up. Turning her head to the back window, she eased the car away from the divider.

“The car's okay now?” Debra asked. “The gas pedal—it's—”

“It's fine,” Corky told her, shifting into Drive and heading toward the mall exit. “Isn't that strange?”

“Yeah,” Debra agreed, studying Corky. “I'm glad. That was a close one.” A nervous giggle escaped her throat.

“I was so scared,” Corky said, heading the car back in the direction she had come.

“Where are we going?” Debra asked, turning to face the front, pulling on her seat belt.

“Let's go to the old mill,” Corky suggested. “It's so quiet there. A good place to talk.”

Debra seemed reluctant. “That broken-down old mill? It's completely falling apart.”

“It's quiet,” Corky repeated.

A good place to kill you, Debra.

“Are you feeling better?” Debra asked, her eyes on the shadowy trees rolling past in the darkness. “I mean, since cheerleader camp. We were all so worried about you.”

“That was weird, wasn't it?” Corky said. “It must have been a virus or something. Some kind of bug.”

“But you're okay now?”

Corky shrugged. “I guess. I still feel a little knocked out. I completely vegged out this afternoon…took a long nap. Like a two-year-old. Would you believe it?”

Debra tsk-tsked. They drove in silence for a few moments. “When you were sick at camp, Hannah did
such a good job of taking up the slack,” Debra gushed. “I wish you could have seen her. She was awesome.”

Corky nodded but didn't reply.

“What about Kimmy?” Debra demanded a short while later, turning in her seat to stare at Corky.

“We have to do something,” Corky said, lowering her voice. “I'm just so scared.”

She turned off Old Mill Road onto the gravel path that led through the trees to the deserted mill.

“You mean—?” Debra started, her lips forming an
O
of surprise.

“You still have all those books on the occult?” Corky asked.

The deserted mill, a two-story wooden structure with a tall wheel at one side, rose up in the headlights. Corky cut the engine and the lights and pushed open her car door.

“Yeah, I still have them.” Debra reached reflexively for the crystal she wore on a chain around her neck. “I'm still really interested in all that stuff. But—”

Corky's sneakers crunched over the gravel as she led the way to the mill and the almost dry stream beside it. She was pleased to see there were no other cars there—Shadyside students often used the mill as a place to make out.

The fresh spring leaves rustled in the trees behind them. The air was fragrant and soft. The old mill loomed in front of them, black against a dark purple sky. A sliver of pale moon was cut in half by a wisp of black cloud.

“Do you think—I mean, do you think the evil spirit
is in Kimmy again?” Debra asked reluctantly, hurrying to catch up to Corky.

“I think so,” Corky replied somberly. Taking longer strides, she made her way past a broken gate, stepping over the fallen door, and walked into the old mill yard.

“That's
horrible!”
Debra exclaimed breathlessly. “Hey, Corky—wait up!”