"Oh my God," he breathed. "The pictures do tell how everybody's going to die. We were just looking at the wrong picture."

  "I can't believe it," said Wendy. "I looked at this one earlier, more than once, and didn't think anything of it. It didn't look like anything, but now that we know how Frank died…" Wendy swallowed. "How awful."

  She suddenly burst into helpless tears.

  "I hate this," she said vehemently. "I don't want to know any more. There's nothing we can do to stop this insanity. All we can do is watch everyone die, one by one, until it's our turn. I don't want to die. I…"

  The tears washed away her words and she put her face into her hands. All the tears she had kept inside came boiling out and she cried for Jason, for Carrie, for Kevin, for all of them, and for herself. It was too much for anyone to bear.

  She felt Kevin's hand between her shoulder blades, a light, unsure touch. Unthinking, she flung herself blindly against him, half on the low bench and half in his lap. Sobbing, face pressed into his chest, she felt his bulky, muscular arms close around her.

  She cried and cried, finally letting out the river of anguish she had kept dammed up inside her heart. She had no idea how long he held her, but slowly, eventually, her tormented sobs began to ease back, trickling away to nothing. She rested her cheek against the tear-damp fabric of his dress shirt and found herself suddenly intensely aware of being held by him, of his body against hers. His build was much thicker and broader than Jason's and his smell was so different, unique and unfamiliar: different soap, different fabric softener in his shirt, different cologne, different hair gel, and beneath it all a different body. Different sweat, different chemistry, as appealing and exciting as the smell of a brand new, never before tasted dish in an exotic restaurant.

  She opened her eyes and focused on the fast pulse of blood in the soft spot above his clavicle. The small curve of his Adam's apple bobbed and tucked down as he swallowed hard and pulled in a sudden, shaky breath.

  "Wendy," he said. She could feel his voice vibrating inside his chest, resonating in her cheekbone where it rested against him. "I swore to Jay that I would protect you and I meant it. I'm not gonna let him down, and I'm not gonna let anything happen to you no matter what. You hear me? No matter what." His voice cracked, rough with emotion. "Protecting you is all I have left."

  She tilted her face up to his, meeting his intense blue gaze. His pupils were dilated, breathing tight and fast. She could feel herself melting against him, losing herself, losing control.

  This is crazy, she thought.

  But then they were kissing. She had no idea how it happened, it just happened, fierce and sudden, a terrible idea, but somehow as unavoidable as any of the other fatal collisions that were stacking up all around them. His mouth tasted torn and raw from the fall to the tarmac, like she knew her own must taste. She could feel the ravenous desire coiled in every inch of his powerful body, a desire that mirrored her own. Then suddenly he pulled away from her, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, his eyes bright with shame and confusion.

  "I'm…" he stammered. "I'm sorry." He turned away, clenching his fist against his denim thigh. "Fuck. I don't know what the hell got into me." He started to stand. "I better go."

  "No," Wendy said, quietly, her hand on his arm pulling him back down onto the little bench beside her. "Don't go. It's not your fault, Kevin." She let go of his arm and looked up into his face. "I guess whatever it was that got into you, well, it got into me too."

  "I just…" Kevin said, unable to meet her eyes. "It's so strange. Everything's so strange now." He ran a shaky hand through his tousled hair. "I mean, I know Jay asked me to take care of you and all, but I really don't think this is what he meant."

  Wendy burst out laughing, a rush of giddy relief spreading through her as Kevin shook his head and started laughing too.

  "Probably not," she agreed.

  "It's just that…" Kevin said. "I feel so close to you. You're like the only person on earth that I can relate to. I feel like I can be myself with you. No one else would ever understand what I'm going through."

  "I know what you mean," Wendy said. "I've told you things I couldn't tell anyone else, because I know that you really know how I feel, you're not just saying you do to make me feel better."

  "Fuck," Kevin said. "I felt so ashamed of having these kinds of feelings about you. Like I was… being unfaithful to Carrie's memory just for thinking about it. I mean, I haven't even been able to…" He looked down, blushing thickly. "Well… you know… jerk off… since she died. Like it was, I don't know, disrespectful to her somehow."

  Wendy looked at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "Really?" she asked. "Me neither. That's so weird, I felt exactly the same way."

  Suddenly realizing what she had said, her fingers flew up to her lips, cheeks hot with mortified embarrassment.

  "I can't believe I just said that," she whispered behind her fingers. "I've never talked about… about that before. Not even with Jay."

  Kevin smiled, a small curl in one corner of his mouth. "It is weird, isn't it?" he said. "There's all this bottled up guilt and confusion, and complicated feelings that don't even make any sense. The only thing that makes sense is being with you."

  Wendy wanted desperately to put her hands on him, to kiss him again. Instead, she bit down on the inside of her cheek and turned away.

  "Listen, Kevin," she said, taking in a long slow breath. "I feel the same way about being with you. Maybe it's just some kind of weird by-product of what we're going through, some psychological coping mechanism common in survivors of traumatic accidents, whatever, but I do know that there is no way I can handle being intimate with you right now."

  Kevin looked so crushed that she immediately felt awful for being so blunt. Why did she have to push everyone away, to keep all her feelings distant and safe, just to maintain control at all costs? Isn't love by its very nature a loss of control? That's why they call it falling for someone. She took Kevin's hand.

  "I'm not telling you to fuck off, Kevin," she said. "I'm just saying that we need to take care of other things first. Things are too scary right now. We've got to focus on finding a way to stop this insanity, to survive. Then, after this is all behind us…" She squeezed his thick calloused fingers. "Well then, we'll just take it as it comes. Okay?"

  "Well," said Kevin, face solemn and jaw tightly clenched, "we better have a look at Lewis's picture then, huh?"

  "Yeah," Wendy replied, "I'm almost afraid to look at it now. I don't want to see."

  "I know," Kevin said. "But remember wilful ignorance…"

  "…is just a deliberate surrender of control." Wendy finished. "I know, I know."

  She closed the panty picture. Behind it was the picture of Lewis. Wendy gasped. Kevin hissed through his teeth. In the light of recent events it was frighteningly suggestive. Lewis was at the test of strength game. The picture had caught him at the end of his swing, just after the hammer had connected with the plank. His arms and head were down behind his shoulders, making him appear headless. Just above him, the weight was blurred as it rocketed up the rail toward the bell. But it could just as easily be seen as falling down towards him.

  "My god," said Wendy. "He's going to get his head cut off too."

  Kevin stabbed a finger at the screen. "And look at this." He tapped the picture. In the background was the Whirling Dervish ride, and the poster that advertised it, a cartoon of a Middle Eastern looking guy wearing a fez, swinging two scimitars. "Right now, Lewis is down at the State for football training camp. Getting ready for this fall."

  "Uh-huh?" Wendy said, not getting it. "And…?"

  "Man," Kevin said. "You mean Kevin the dumb jock actually knows something you don't?" He smirked. "State's team is called the Sultans."

  "Oh," said Wendy in a small voice, so unnerved by the further corroboration of the picture's oracular powers that she couldn't muster the energy to be offended. "We have to tell him. We have to show him the pictures."

  Kevin hesitated, looking uncertain.

  "You don't think we should?" Wendy asked. "You don't think he needs to know?"

  "Yeah, he should know," he said at last. "I just… well, you know Lewis. You know how hard it is to tell him anything. He's a fucking knucklehead. He's not going to believe any of this shit."

  "I think you're wrong, Kevin," Wendy said. "Remember how superstitious he is, how ready he was to believe that I had satanic powers. I think he'll be scared and I know he'll listen."

  Kevin frowned, thoughtful. "I guess you're right." He looked up at Wendy. "You want to go down with me to State tomorrow? You're the scary satanic witch after all, he's more likely to listen to you."

  "Why wait until tomorrow?" asked Wendy. "Why not call him right now?"

  "It wouldn't work," Kevin said. "He's not gonna want to blow his chances to make the team, so a phone call isn't gonna cut it. He needs to see you and see the pictures to really put the fear of God into him."

  "Okay, then we'll go together, first thing in the morning," Wendy said. "I'll pick you up."

  "Cool." Kevin stood. "Well, I better get back home. My mom is probably worried sick by now and I know my dad's gonna lose it when he finds out about my truck."

  "All right." She stood too, and grabbed a red corduroy jacket to throw on over her stained funeral clothes. She wanted to change out of the torn and bloody dress, but didn't feel comfortable changing with Kevin around, even if he went into the next room. She'd just have to wait till she got back. Wendy turned back to her desk and started shutting down the computer.

  Kevin turned to the door, then stopped and turned back.

  "Uh, are there pictures of you and me on there too?" he asked.

  Wendy nodded. "Sure. Of course."

  "Oh man," he said, grimacing. "I don't want to see mine."

  Wendy raised an eyebrow. "What were you saying before about wilful ignorance?" she asked.

  "Okay, so maybe I'm full of shit," he admitted. "You're going to hold me to some bullshit I made up in your driveway? I never thought I'd ever get a chance to see my own death before it happened. That is just too fucking freaky."

  "I know," Wendy said. "I don't want to see mine either, but…"

  "No, listen," Kevin said, suddenly serious. "All that willful ignorance stuff aside. I don't think it'll be good for me to see mine just yet. If we're going to stop this and find a way to figure it out, I gotta be focused, you know. On the ball. If I see that picture I'll obsess about it constantly. I'll be all jumpy, seeing my doom coming every time a bird flies overhead or some guy pulls up behind me in traffic." He rolled his shoulders, tense and anxious. "I don't want to know about it unless… unless I have to."

  "You mean," Wendy said, "until you have to."

  Wendy buttoned up her jacket and started for the door. As Kevin put his hand on the doorknob he stopped again, and looked at Wendy. She was right behind him and stopped just short of running into him. He looked down at her and she felt that niggling pull of attraction again, heat flushing her cheeks as she looked away. He put out a hand to touch her, but the hand froze, hanging uncertain in the air between them. He clenched it into a fist and then opened it again, looking down and pressing his lips together in a tight line. He opened the door and stepped aside, chivalrously motioning for her to go ahead.

  "Wendy. I didn't hear you come in."

  Wendy's mom stood at the far end of the hall. When she saw Kevin coming out of Wendy's room, a shadow of confusion crossed her face.

  "Oh," Wendy's mother said. "I didn't know you had company."

  They hadn't been doing anything wrong, but Wendy felt her blush deepen, followed by a rush of guilt as if she had been caught in the act.

  "You remember Kevin, don't you?" Wendy stammered.

  "You're Jason's friend, aren't you?" her mom asked, arching an eyebrow. "I saw you helping Ms. Wise at the funeral."

  "Yes, ma'am," Kevin said, looking as guilty as Wendy felt.

  "I called your cell phone several times," Wendy's mom said, hurt accusation creeping into her voice. "You disappeared from the cemetery."

  "Sorry mom," Wendy said. "I got a ride from Kevin."

  Her blush was so hot and fierce now that you could fry an egg on her cheek. Everything she said just made it seem worse. Why was she feeling so guilty? They hadn't done anything.

  But she knew why. It was because she wanted to and so did he, and that desire felt like a flashing neon sign above their heads.

  "Well…" Wendy forced herself to breathe, to keep her voice level. "I better take Kevin home now."

  Her mom frowned sharply. "I thought you said he gave you a ride," her mother said.

  Shit. Wendy did not want to tell her mom about the accident at the Butchie Burger. She would panic and get hysterical as usual. Was it dim enough in the hallway to hide the stains on their dark clothes? What about the gash on Kevin's cheek? Wendy's mind was racing for some sort of excuse when Kevin spoke up.

  "I had some engine trouble," Kevin said. "Luckily we were close enough to walk back here so Wendy could get her truck and give me a ride back home."

  Wendy's mom looked skeptical, but seemed to accept Kevin's quick thinking explanation. If she noticed the taped up cut on his face, she didn't mention it.

  "Okay then, honey," Wendy's mom said, coming forward to kiss Wendy's forehead. "But I still want you back here before curfew."

  "Sure, mom," Wendy said, squirming anxiously away from her mother's affectionate gesture.

  "It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Christensen," Kevin said earnestly.

  "You too, Kevin," Wendy's mom said indulgently. "Good luck with your car."

  "Thank you, ma'am," Kevin replied.

  "See you later, mom," Wendy said quickly, then dropping her voice, she turned to Kevin. "Let's go."

  Once they were safely inside Wendy's truck they both burst out laughing.

  "Man that was hilarious," Kevin said. "I swear, I've been flat out busted in way more embarrassing situations than that, but I've never felt so damn guilty."

  "It didn't show," Wendy said. "You were totally cool and collected. I was the one acting like I had been caught with my pants down."

  "What can I say," Kevin replied, smirking. "I've got the mom-wrangling skills down pat."

  "Well," Wendy said, fastening her belt and sliding the key into the ignition. "You've obviously had way more practice getting caught in sexual situations than I have."

  Kevin paused with his belt halfway across his lap. "Is that what that was?" he asked softly. "A sexual situation?"

  Wendy shook her head, put her truck in gear and pulled out the dive. "I honestly have no idea, Kevin," she said.

  They were mostly silent on the drive back, except for Kevin's occasional prompts to turn or go straight as he directed her through the sleepy suburban sprawl. Wendy had just turned onto his street when he spoke up.

  "One more thing…" he said. "About my picture from that night."

  "What about it?" Wendy asked.

  "Can you tell… I mean…" he frowned. "Is it bad? Like painful? Or embarrassing? I mean, like, there's not gonna be anything jammed up my ass, right?"

  Wendy rolled her eyes and let out a stifled laugh. "Isn't that just like a straight boy to be more worried about having something up his ass than about being dead." She smiled. "If you don't stop obsessing about that picture you'll have my foot up your ass. How's that?"

  Kevin laughed too and then they were in front of his house. Wendy pulled over just past the driveway and put the truck in park, engine softly idling. Kevin turned to her, broad face underlit by the pale green light of the instrument panel.

  "Okay then," he said.

  "All right," she said.

  They sat in uncomfortable silence for a long endless minute. Then Kevin spoke with sudden, vehement conviction.

  "We're gonna beat this thing, Wendy," he said. "We have to." He unhooked his safety belt and turned to face her. "I really felt alive tonight, for the first time since the accident. Thanks to you, I feel like I've turned a corner and broken out of that bleak, sludgy depression that had me all pent up with guilt and grief. I finally have a reason to keep on living and there is no way I'm gonna let some cranky accountant from beyond the grave fuck with that."

  Wendy smiled. "I'll pick up at nine am tomorrow," she said. "Okay?"

  "Okay," Kevin replied.

  Another endless stretch of silent seconds ticked by and then, unable to stop herself, Wendy pulled him close in an awkward embrace. He held her tight for a moment, then tilted her face up to his and kissed her. It was just a quick, closed mouth kiss, but it wanted to be more so badly she could almost taste it.

  He moved away from her, shaking his head and smiling ruefully.

  "Man," he said. "I don't know about you, but after all of this I'm gonna have to go upstairs, lock myself in my room for six hours and beat my meat like it owes me money. I'm seriously overdue."

  Wendy covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. "Jeez, Kevin," she said. "Too much information. I did not need to know that."

  "Well you started this," Kevin said.

  "I started it?" Wendy replied with mock indignation. "You're the one who kissed me."

  "You led me on," Kevin joked, gesturing to her conservative, knee length, black sheath dress. "Look how you're dressed."

  "You're crazy," Wendy said, laughing.

  "You like it," Kevin replied.

  Wendy said nothing, just leaned her head into his warm shoulder. She did like it. He made her feel unreasonably optimistic, something she needed more than anything else in the face of all this madness. She needed to believe that he really could protect her, that they could beat this dark force that was conspiring against them. He stroked her hair and the length of her back for a few seconds, and gently pulled away.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29