The Third Evil (5 page)

Corky lowered her eyes to Hannah's legs. Still dripping wet, both legs were bright red from the feet nearly up to the knees.

“But that's impossible. I
tested
the water,” Corky protested.

Hannah glared furiously at Corky. “That's just so
mean!
I—I—I don't—” she sputtered.

“The water probably started coming in hotter after Corky left,” Kimmy said, coming to Corky's defense.

“Really. I tested it. I did,” Corky insisted, staring at the scarlet flesh of Hannah's legs.

Hannah pulled the towel around herself more tightly. She didn't reply.

“I wouldn't deliberately hurt you,” Corky muttered.

“Should we get you to a nurse or something?” Kimmy asked.

Hannah shook her head. “They're starting to feel better. I was just shocked, that's all.”

“I'm really sorry,” Corky said, “but I know the water was okay when I left it.”

Hannah shrugged. “Okay. Guess I overreacted.”

“You sure you're okay?” Kimmy asked.

“Yeah. Fine,” Hannah replied. She took a few steps
into the center of the room. “I guess I'm okay. Sorry I freaked like that.” She turned and disappeared back into the bathroom.

“See you at the gym!” Kimmy called. “We'll explain to Miss Green why you're late.”

Corky's mouth dropped open in a silent gasp as her sister suddenly flashed into her mind. Bobbi had died because of scalding-hot shower water, Corky remembered.

“I really did test the water,” Corky muttered, more to herself than to Kimmy.

Kimmy picked up the carton of pom-poms. Then they headed out the door.

“Weird,” Kimmy muttered, shaking her head as they walked quickly down the long corridor to the elevators. “Weird.”

It sure is, Corky thought.

And then she remembered that Kimmy had gone into the bathroom while the water was still running.

That's right, Corky told herself. Just before we left the room, Kimmy went into the bathroom.

She glanced at Kimmy as the elevators came into view. Kimmy stared straight ahead, her face expressionless, revealing no emotion.

Did Kimmy go into the bathroom and turn the hot water up? Corky wondered.

Did Kimmy try to scald Hannah?

“Hey, America—the time is here! Shadyside, stand up and cheer! Here we come. We want the world to know Shadyside is the HIT OF THE SHOW!”

Cheering loudly, the six Shadyside cheerleaders ended the routine with synchronized back handsprings.

“Ow!” Ronnie cried out, losing her balance and landing hard on her arm.

Miss Green blew her whistle as the other squad members clustered around Ronnie. Kimmy and Debra helped her to her feet.

“I'm okay,” Ronnie insisted. “Really. I'm all right.” She tested her shoulder, rotating her arm like an airplane propeller. “It feels okay.”

“Then let's try the routine again,” Miss Green said brusquely. She glanced at the sidelines, where one of the camp officials was scribbling notes rapidly on her clipboard.

Miss Green blew her whistle again.

Whistles were blowing all over the enormous gym. Cheerleading squads from fifteen different schools were shouting, dancing, leaping. Sneakers squeaked and thudded on the polished floor. Songs echoed off the tile walls.

What an amazing sound, Corky thought. I'll bet it doesn't sound like this anywhere else in the world!

A few feet away the cheerleaders of the Redwood Bulldogs were practicing rollups into partner pyramids. Their blue and gold uniforms, which they wore even though uniforms weren't required, looked fresh and new.

“Look at that girl. Their captain,” Corky said to Kimmy, practically having to shout in her ear to be heard. She pointed to a cheerleader with beautiful long red hair. “She's really
awesome!”

“I
know
her!” Kimmy exclaimed. “She used to go to my Sunday school. Her name is Blair O'Connell. She
is
awesome—and she knows it!”

They watched Blair perform an astounding cartwheel, then flip herself effortlessly up onto her partner's shoulders, her red hair flying like a victory pennant.

“Wow,” Corky said, shaking her head in admiration. “She is really outstanding!”

“We can beat her!” Hannah cried, suddenly appearing behind Corky and Kimmy. “We'll just have to work harder, that's all! Come on, everybody!” Hannah shouted, clapping her hands. “Let's show the Bulldogs they're not so hot!”

Hannah acts as if
she's
the captain, Corky thought scornfully. But she found herself caught up by Hannah's enthusiasm anyway. Clearing her mind of all unpleasant thoughts, Corky threw herself whole-heartedly into the routine.

“Hey, America—the time is here! Shadyside, stand up and cheer!”

As the Shadyside squad practiced its cheer, Corky saw Blair O'Connell watching, her arms crossed over her chest, a sour look on her face. As the routine ended and Ronnie again mistimed her backflip and fell, Corky saw Blair laugh gleefully as she pointed Ronnie out to one of the other Bulldog cheerleaders.

Kimmy stepped up beside Corky. She had obviously been watching Blair too. “I never liked her,” she
said in Corky's ear. “She's so stuck up, she's disgusting.”

“But what a figure!” Corky exclaimed. “She's so tall and—and—look at that tiny waist and—”

Miss Green's angry voice interrupted their conversation. “We're not here as spectators,” she scolded. “Let's start again. Ronnie, are you going to land on your feet or your butt this time?”

Ronnie blushed. Her upper lip glistened with perspiration. She tugged at her curly copper-colored hair and uttered a cry of exasperation. “I'll get it this time,” she promised.

“Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!” Hannah cried, jumping up and down and clapping.

She's the cheerleader's cheerleader, Corky thought sarcastically. Her eyes went from Hannah to Blair. Two of a kind, Corky thought bitterly. Except that Blair is more talented.

Corky lined up with the others to begin the routine again. The gym grew hotter, the air thick and damp. The shouting voices, the cheers, the singing and clapping—it was all starting to make Corky's head spin. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, but the bright lights didn't fade. The echoing sounds only grew louder. She reopened her eyes and began the routine.

It went better. At least, Ronnie didn't fall. Again, Corky watched Blair O'Connell in her sleek blue and gold uniform, an expression of superior amusement on her beautiful face.

They did the routine one more time. Then Miss Green suggested they work on handsprings.

As they practiced, camp officials circulated and studied each team carefully, jotting down notes, having brief conversations with coaches and advisors.

Corky performed a handspring, then moved into a spread-eagle jump.

Pretty good, she thought, breathing hard. This is quite a workout, but I'm really getting into it.

She wiped the perspiration off her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Corky, can I give you a little advice?” Hannah said loudly, stepping up in front of her. It wasn't a question, Corky realized immediately. “You need to get more lift on your spread-eagle jump,” Hannah instructed. “You're still a little too low.”

“Huh?” Corky wasn't sure she was hearing correctly. Was Hannah, a freshman, really giving her advice in front of the entire squad?

“If you bring your feet in closer together, you can control your jump better,” Hannah continued. “Watch. I'll show you.”

She proceeded to perform a spread eagle, jumping high off the floor, her eyes on Corky the whole time, her long braid flying. She landed gracefully, a pleased smile on her face. “See?”

“Thanks, Hannah,” Corky said without enthusiasm. “I'll try it.” She turned quickly and walked over to Debra and Heather.

What unbelievable nerve, Corky thought angrily.

I don't mind taking advice from the other girls. But Hannah really thinks she's queen of the world!

She's only a freshman, after all. Bobbi and I were
all-state in Missouri. I think I can get along without advice from Hannah.

“Hey—lighten up!” Debra called, seeing Corky's angry, tight-lipped expression. “People are watching,” she teased. “Ten points off if you lose your smile for a second.”

Corky plastered a big, phony smile on her face for Debra's benefit.

“That's better,” Debra said, laughing. She was fingering the crystal she always wore around her neck. She flashed Corky a thumbs-up sign, then returned to working on partner pyramids with Heather.

Corky hadn't noticed that Kimmy had come up behind her. She jumped, startled, when Kimmy started to talk. “Someone has to take Hannah down a peg or two,” Kimmy said with surprising bitterness.

“Huh?” Corky hadn't realized that Kimmy had observed her jumping lesson from Hannah.

“She's the pits,” Kimmy said through gritted teeth. “Sometimes I could just murder her—couldn't you?”

The way Kimmy said those words gave Corky a cold chill.

Sometimes I could just murder her.

Corky shrugged. “Hannah is Hannah, I guess.”

Kimmy stared at her with no expression.

Whistles blew. The cheerleaders were being called to a meeting to hear about the evening competition. There would be minor competitions each evening. On the fifth and final night a major competition would be held. Each squad would perform its most complicated routine, and awards would be presented to the winners.

After the meeting Corky walked alone back across the quadrangle to the dorm. Her legs ached. She was hot and sweaty. What a workout! she thought.

Well, Debra had warned her that cheerleader camp was mostly hard work.

A cool late-afternoon breeze did refresh her as she made her way across the nearly deserted campus. A few college students circled the quadrangle on bikes.

She pulled open the glass doors to the dorm and stepped inside. Her sneakers squeaked on the marble floor as she crossed to the elevators. The lobby was deserted and quiet, but somewhere far down the hall, country music was playing.

Thinking about taking a long, cool shower, Corky stepped onto the elevator and rode up to the sixth floor. She stepped out and began walking along the dark carpet to her room.

To her surprise, her sneakers stuck to the carpet.

“What's happening?” she cried out loud, looking down.

The carpet appeared to be moving, undulating like waves.

“Hey!” Corky cried out.

She blinked. Once. Twice. Waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark hallway, to stop playing tricks on her.

She tried to walk, but the floor was sticky and wet. The carpet still moved in waves, thick and black, rolling over her sneakers.

“No!” Corky screamed. Can anyone hear me? she thought. Is anyone up here?

The entire carpet had become a dark, thick sea, rolling and tossing, swaying back and forth.

“I can't walk!” Corky screamed. “Is anyone here? Can anyone help me?”

Like bubbling tar, the thick liquid rose up and over her sneakers, over her ankles.

It's pulling me down, Corky realized.

I can't move.

It's so sticky.

It's pulling me down.

“Help!”

“I
t's so sticky!” Corky cried again. “I—I can't move!”

She looked up to see Debra staring down at her, her normally calm features twisted in alarm.

“Corky—what
is
it? What are you
doing
down there?” Debra dropped to the floor and wrapped an arm around Corky's trembling shoulders.

“It's so sticky,” Corky repeated, still dazed.

“Huh? What's sticky? What's happening?” Debra demanded frantically.

Corky realized she was on her knees. On the dark carpet.

The still carpet.

It was no longer rolling and tossing.

Confused, she rubbed the dry carpet with her palms. “Debra?”

Debra's eyes were locked on Corky. She kept her
arm protectively around Corky's shoulders. “Why are you down here, Corky? Did you fall?”

Corky raised herself back up on her knees. She shook her head. “No. I didn't fall. It pulled me down.”

Debra's mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

“The carpet. It started to roll back and forth, then it turned into a sticky liquid. And tried to pull me down.” Corky stared intently at Debra, trying to read Debra's expression, trying to see if Debra believed her.

Debra shut her eyes. “The evil spirit,” she said, lowering her voice.

“Yes,” Corky quickly agreed.

“It's here,” Debra whispered. “I can feel it.” Letting go of Corky, she moved her hand to the crystal that hung around her neck. With her eyes still closed, she twirled the crystal rapidly in one hand, then squeezed it tightly.