Lying Liars from Leland High Pt. 03

"Tell it to me again from the beginning, love, help me understand." Detective Morris leans in, his intense eyes following you as you once again recount your conversations in the quarry with Lizzy and then the late night phone call.

"So you are saying that the Jovanovic sister got into a brawl with the deceased right before the police raided the party? And no one saw her after that?" Morris leans to the side and bellows over your shoulder. "PATRICIA!"

The portly administrative assistant, her ruby red glasses perched precariously on her nose, appears at the door frame, looking about ready to bite someone in half.

"Mr. Morris, not only am I not a dog to be hollered at but I am extremely busy handling these parent phone calls, as I'm sure you are aware..." but Morris cuts her off.

"That's nice Patty. Look, can you check if Elizabeth Lewis showed up for class yesterday?"

Patricia sniffs and adjusts her glasses. "I happen to know for a fact that she did not. And if I may speak unkindly towards the deceased, it was not exactly out of character for her. She and her friends would regularly cut class, most likely to go do drugs and..."

"Thank you, that's all!" Morris waves at her dismissively. She huffs and vanishes from view.

"But how did Lizzy get up on the flag pole?" You ask. "She called me last night, so it must have happened early this morning."

"Can you think of anyone else who may have seen her between Saturday night and this morning?" Morris asks. You wrack your brains, tumbling through all that had happened.

"I'm sorry, I can't." He nods sagely.

"I'll take it from here, love. Time for some more police work. Let me know if you hear anything on the rumor mill, alright?" He gives you a little cuff on the cheek and turns back to his paperwork.

"That's it?" You ask, a little reproachfully. "Just let me know if you hear something?"

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised.

"What, you want a little quickie shag before I go back to talking to this dead bird's parents?" He says sarcastically. "Time and place, time and place."

You wince. "Right. Sorry." You turn to go, shamefaced. Stupid, so stupid. You feel a hand on your shoulder.

Morris whirls you around forcefully and cups your chin, pulling your face to his, kissing you passionately. You cling to him, savoring the moment, before finally pulling yourself away.

"Later, gorgeous," he says, affectionately. You nod, still dazed, and wander off to class.

###

The school is abuzz with speculation, in whispered conversations, frantically passed notes and no amount of teacher scolding could keep their attention on their classwork. Above all else, the question remained, would the school cancel the dance this Friday?

God, you do not miss the self-absorption of teenagedom.

Principal Sheffield at least resolved that question with an announcement over the intercom right before the end of school.

"We understand that our community has been visited three times now by tragedy, and though the loss of Thomas Jovanovic, Matthew Herschel, and Elizabeth Lewis weigh heavily on our hearts, we must shoulder on and celebrate the life we have. In that spirit, the Sadie Hawkins dance will be held as originally scheduled this Friday evening. Thank you and stay safe."

A few scattered cheers rang out but they were quickly shushed by stern faced teachers and the final bell rang out before anyone had much time to consider the ramifications.

You stop by the library after school in hopes of confronting Simon about his duplicity but he had already left for the day so shouldering your bag, you make your way out the doors of the school towards home.

You glance down at your NextGen watch and briefly consider how long you have been inside this world. Counting the days on your fingers, you realize it is closing in on two weeks. Are there side effects to staying inside one of these worlds for too long? Of course not, you chide yourself. The workers at Talverton Keep spent months on the inside... of course, they did slowly turn into vampires and werewolves and whatnot but still, they were healthy when they returned, right?

You are shaken from your reverie by shouting in the school parking lot. Peering around the oversized bumper of a kid's truck, you see Jules arguing with two larger goths, decked out with spiky collars and black leather jackets.

"Why you want to know, fuckface? Want to go there and whack off about the last time Lizzy sucked your dick?" said the taller goth. He gave Jules a shove but Jules kept his cool.

"Look, I know Lizzy had a smoke spot in the woods where she hung out, I'm just trying to retrace her steps."

"Who gives a shit about that slut?" says the shorter one, spitting on the gravel. "She's dead as a doornail. Can't fuck her anymore - she's already fucked."

"Just because she's dead doesn't mean we shouldn't care. And what does it matter if she had lots of sex." Jules said, his voice rising. "She's a person, like anyone else. And she deserves respect, no matter who or how many people she sleeps with."

Your heart swells with pride for Jules for a moment and you are about to step out and join the conversation when it takes a sudden turn for the worse.

"Not anymore. Now she's just another dead bitch," says the taller goth. "Go home and cry about it, virgin boy."

"Just tell me where she hung out, and I'll be gone." Jules' voice is tight, you see his fist clenched but he doesn't move.

"Fucking make me." said the taller goth, squaring up to the diminutive Jules, pushing him in the chest.

"I'm not going to fight you, man." said Jules. "But I'm not leaving till you tell me."

"Not going to fight, that's too bad," says the taller goth, nodding slightly to his friend. The shorter teenager cracks Jules across the chin with a haymaker, sending him sprawling into the gravel.

"Woah, woah, hey!" you say, rushing around the truck towards the boys. The two goths look up, startled.

"Well, look it here, Nancy Drew has arrived," the shorter one sneered.

"Fuck off douchebag," you say dismissively, helping Jules to his feet. "You alright."

He gives you a nod then turns back to the other two.

"I still don't have an answer," he says, standing as tall as he can. "I'm not leaving."

"Fucking hell." The shorter one pulls back his fist but the taller one stops him. There's something in the expression in the taller goth's face, a moment of recognition or appreciation.

"It's the old railway cars out near Deer Creek. She'd go up there, smoke a doob, listen to some music and make out with whomever. It was her spot."

"Thank you." Jules says. "Bye." and with that, the two of you beat a hasty retreat before more fisticuffs can break out. As you weave your way through the parked cars, the taller goth shouts after you.

"Make them pay, alright? Whoever did this, you make them pay."

###

After a brief stop at Jules' apartment for flashlights, coats and, in a rather poignant moment, taking Lizzy off the suspect board, the two of you set off for Deer Creek. The first leg is a leisurely bicycle ride to an old forest road, and then following the overgrown railroad tracks deep into the forest.

"I really appreciate what you said back there," you say after a bit. Jules turns.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, about Lizzy being worthy of respect no matter who she sleeps with. Some guys really struggle with that." He smiles, blushing slightly.

"Well, I didn't say it for you. I said it for her. Because it's true."

"I know," you say. "Thank you."

The crunch of fallen branches makes a steady rhythm as you go deeper into the woods, the rapidly setting sun transforming the branches into dark silhouettes on a grey sky.

"This is a long walk for a smoke spot," you observe. Jules chuckles.

"An expert on smoking the ganja, are we Brenna? I never would have expected." he laughs.

"No, it's just... if she went to all this work to be out here, she must have really wanted some space."

"She has seven siblings, did you know that?" You shake your head.

"Single mom, seven brothers and sisters. At least according to the school records. She's the second youngest."

"Seven, jeez." you say. "I'd want my own space too."

"Brenna? I think we're here." Jules says quietly.

The rails take a turn and it is clear that here is where the original train derailed. Eight train cars lay scattered around the forest floor, like lost toys from some giant child. Some are propped up on cinder blocks, a few still remain on the tracks. All of them covered in english ivy, branches and moss.

"This is pretty cool," you say, clicking on your flashlight to peer into the nearest car.

"I think you mispronounced 'spooky'," says Jules. "This is pretty spooky."

"Psssh. Live a little. We are way out here, there's no one who can bother us." you quip back.

"Or hear us scream." Jules replies. "I'm just saying, if this was a movie, we are tempting fate here."

"Alright, mister genre savvy, let's see if we can find where she hung out."

###

Jules holds the flashlight while you heave open one of the rusty doors. You are greeted by the earthy smell of moss as a light rain urges you inside the metal car.

Inside, you see an old lantern and what must be hundreds of wax candles scattered around the inside of the car - on boarded up windows, on the floorboards, on little shelves installed on the walls. A battered old cooler is nestled in the corner and a beat up mattress is next to the one of the windows, set off by an old lawn chair missing half of its straps.

"Woah," says Jules, stepping into the car with you and shaking off the rain from his coat. "This is pretty neat."

The lawnchair next to the window is placed right next to an ashtray, and a quick sniff identifies a few burned out roaches in the tray. Sitting in the chair, you realize from this vantage point, you can peer out the window and enjoy a sweeping view of the forest, with a glimpse of the sound.

"Check out the graffiti!" Jules says excitedly. He points to a series of drawings at arms length from where you are sitting. Five cartoon sketches are arranged in a tight circle with fat black sharpie, their names signed underneath each. Lizzy is immediately identifiable with her smoking and flipping the bird. Cody stands next to her, his stick figure looming over the others, giving a thumbs up. Matt, his short spiky hair making him stand out, has his arm around the next stick figure, with long hair and a short skirt, Jessica. A heart floats above Matt and Jessica's sketch. On the other side of Jessica, Dylan stands with arms folded and webbed feet.

Together, the drawings are underlined with "the Railway Gang - 4ever 1992".

"So, who's missing from this picture?" you ask. Jules nods, "Tom Jovanovic. 1992, that would be right before the Jovanovic siblings transferred in. Looks like Jessica and Matt were an item before he showed up."

"That would be a motive for Matt - too bad I didn't get to ask him some questions before..."

"... he was disarmed?" Jules says. You crack a smile.

"That's bad." He grins back.

"Yeah it is." You point your flashlight towards the door to the next car. "I'm going to see what's in there."

"I'll be here, she's got a whole pile of books and sketch pads here, I'm going to see if they have anything helpful."

You pull at the rusty door, prying it open to reveal another car, this one mostly empty aside from a little kerosene camping stove and some trash. Poking around in the trash, you find a bag of chips, a crumpled up soda can and a receipt from an AM/PM. Dated for last night.

"Holy shit!" You snatch it up and dash back to the previous car. As soon as you open the door, you are bathed in a warm orange light.

Jules has lit every candle in the railcar, filling the space with a flickering golden light, keeping the rain and the darkness at bay.

"Oh, this is cozy!" you coo, plopping down on the mattress next to Jules. He clicks off his flashlight and puts away his lighter, turning to you.

"It is, isn't it?" He says, trying to suppress a little smile. "Almost romantic?"

"Definitely romantic," you say, taking his hand. Together you sit, outside the rain pounding on the metal roof, but the railcar is warm and inviting from the light. He looks deep into your eyes, searching for the courage.

"Brenna, I... I just want to say. Whatever happens with... us. With this case. With this school year. Whatever happens, I'm so proud to have known you and been here. With you. In this moment." He looks down, at your hands, fingers intertwined. "I'll treasure being your friend for the rest of my life."

You can't take it anymore. You lean in, capturing his lips in a hot kiss, cradling his face and pulling yourself to him.

Your tongues tangle as he wraps his arm around you. You press yourself against him, savoring his tender kisses. You feel his hands, gently, cautiously, rubbing your back. You sigh, encouragingly, and tug at the hem of his shirt.

He takes a moment, lingering on your lips a moment longer, before pulling away and with your help, pulling the shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. He looks at your face nervously.

"Very nice," you whisper softly, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra. In one smooth motion, you toss both your shirt and bra aside. Jules gasps, his eyes wide, drinking in the sight of you.

"You are so beautiful. They.. they are even more gorgeous than I imagined," he murmers, worshipful.

"You can touch them," you say, taking his hand and pulling it to your breast. He gently caresses them, like a blind man discovering a marble statue. Softly, teasingly, he circles each nipple with just the tips of his fingers, sending shivers of delight through your body.

Leaning in, you steal more kisses, running your hands through his hair and feeling the passion rise. Finally, you push him back onto the mattress, letting your hands slowly trace a path along his collar bone, through the valley of his chest, along his taut stomach to the button of his levis.

He catches your hands as you start to undo his pants.

"If we... I mean, I don't want to assume but I don't have any... protection." You give him a wicked smile.

"It's okay, I'm on the pill and I'm clean. It's okay." His breathing gets short in excitement as you redouble your efforts, unzipping his pants and pulling them to his knees where he kicks them off. HIs underwear tents lewdly, straining to contain his throbbing dick. You graze it with your palm and delight as it jumps in your hand, the large head peeking out the band of his jockeys.

Reaching in, you grasp the thick member, easing the underwear down and stroking it slowly, up and down, the foreskin sliding back and forth smoothly. Jules groans, biting his lip as his cock begins to jump in your hand.

"Easy, easy. We've got plenty of time," you whisper softly. "Let's get me started so you don't finish too soon."

Staying seated, you wiggle out of your skirt and panties in record time, entangling your legs with his on the old mattress, savoring the feeling of bare skin on bare skin.

"Here," you say, laying flat on your back, you take his hand and guide it to your waiting sex, helping his fingers trace your outer lips. He props himself up on one arm, and tries to crane his head to see what he is doing.

"Feel your way, right here," you help him delve into your wet sex, and then back to your clit, your hand on the back of his, guiding his motions as he works little figure eights on the hood.

"Watch my face. You should be able to see if a girl likes what you are doing," you whisper but then he moves faster and you gasp in pleasure. "Uh huh," you moan, eyes closed. "Just like that."

You feel the pleasure building, faster and faster. Your face feels hot, and you look over to see his dark brown eyes watching you intently, enraptured by your beauty. Breath comes in ragged gasps - you reach up and squeeze your breast, pulling at your nipples, hard and proud.

"Oh god, oh fuck," you moan as he swirls around you clit. While doing that, he pushes two other fingers inside and rubs in just the right spot. You buck your hips. "Uhhhhhgggnnnnnn! YESSS!" you shout your orgasm, arching your back off the mattress and gasping for air. "Oh fuck, oh fuck!" he keeps going as the spasm electrifies through you till finally you pull his hand free, clawing for air.

For a moment, all that can be heard in the rain on the railcar and the sound of your breathing.

"That was amazing!" he sighs.

"Oh, we are just getting started," you grin at him, pushing him onto his back. You throw a leg over his and grasp his cock, painfully hard and weaping pre-cum with excitement.

"Are you ready?" you ask tenderly. He nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you sink down onto his cock, letting the thick fullness fill you, inch by inch, until your bodies meet. You feel him swell inside you, but you grab his hands, interlacing your fingers with his.

"Stay with me Jules, don't cum yet." you command, holding still, "Just breathe." He looks up at you in awe, his sexual goddess, claiming him as her own. But his breath comes slowly in and out and you feel him steady himself.

You begin to rock back and forth, moving your hips in a slow, sensual circles.

"Oh, this is incredible," he moans beneath you. "I never imagined..."

Carefully, you pick up speed, using his hands as leverage, working your hips up and down, back and forth, loving the carnal sensations radiating through your body. You arch your back and a moan escapes your lips.

"Oh Jules," you sigh, the graffiti on the ceiling swirling above your head. "Oh god,"

His hips buck and you can tell he is getting close. Propping one leg up, you ride him hard and fast, determined to bring him to a blinding conclusion. His mouth is open, his eyes beginning to roll back in his head and once again, you feel him swelling inside of you.

"Cum for me Jules, give it to me, give it to me," you chant, your hips becoming a blur as you pound into him, riding him for all he's worth.

"Aaaagghhnnnnnnnn!!' he cries out, an anguished note. You reach back and gently fondle his swollen balls beneath your hips, pushing him as deep as he will go inside of you.

"Nnnnnnnggnnnnnnn," he moans, a deep cry of satisfaction and feel a gush inside of you as his cock belches load after sticky load deep inside your sex.

"Yessssss," you sigh, as he cums again and again beneath you as you ride him to the finish, till finally, he slides out of you, wet and satisfied.

You crawl up next to him, one leg thrown over his shuddering body, and hold him, sweaty bodies entangled amongst the candlelight and the sound of the rain.

###

The heavy rains have diminished to a steady drizzle by the time either of you speaks again. You slowly trace the contours of his chest, picking at the faint chest hair and watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

"Huh," he says. "Everyone says that having sex is what finally makes you a man, but I don't feel any different." He turns, looking into your glistening eyes. "Maybe we should do it again, just to make sure."

You laugh. "We can, that was lots of fun." He grins as you continue, "But if you are expecting some magic banner to drop from the ceiling saying, tada, I'm afraid you will be sorely disappointed."

"Oh, nothing about that was disappointing! Everything was perfect." he rushes to assure you but you wave him off.

"I just, I don't know..." he trails off, his hand making gently tracing little circles on your shoulder, "I just thought that I would feel something different. Like I leveled up or something."

"Virginity isn't real, you know that, right?" you say. He looks at you, confused.

"Try this on for size," you begin. "You lost your virginity with me tonight, right? Because we had sex. But what about a girl that only likes girls? When does she lose her virginity?"

At the mention of lesbians, you notice a twitch from him down below but he ponders your question. "Probably when they sleep with another girl."

"Just sleep?" You ask.

"No, like when they get each other off, like I did with you tonight."

"Okay, but if you only got a girl off and she never touched your dick, would you have lost your virginity?"

"No, of course not." he answers reflexively. "Oh. I see."

"Exactly, it's different for each person," you say, running your hands through his dark brown hair.

"My first time was with someone at a party that I kinda knew. He was nice but it wasn't a relationship and I wasn't in love. Does that count? Do you need to be in love to lose your virginity?"

He shakes his head. "No, but it definitely helps." He leans in and kisses you and together you savor the moment.

"I guess it is really up to each person how they feel about it." Jules says after a moment. "And if I get to choose, I'm glad you were my first."

You give him a long, tender kiss, pressing your chest to his.

"It was my pleasure," you whisper, slowly stroking his cock back to fullness. "Now, let's try missionary," as you roll on your back.

He grins and spreads your legs, pushing his full cock back inside your wet sex.

"Ahhhhh," you sigh.

The candles flicker on as the rain continues.

###

"So, you think Crystal will suck up the courage and ask a girl out to Sadies?" Jules asks, his head resting gently between your breasts, rising and falling with your breathing.

You look down in surprise. "You know?" He snorts.

"I've known ever since Crystal kept watching all the Winona Ryder parts of Beetlejuice over and over again on the middle school sleepover. I think I've known that Crystal likes girls before she even realized she likes girls."

"I hope she does invite someone," you say. "It can be scary, especially in high school, but if there's one thing Crystal has in spades, it's courage."

"She's our favorite amazon." Jules replies, gently squeezing your breast. Suddenly he sits up.

"Oh! I found something, by the way." He pulls out a couple of sharpies from a pile of sketch pads next to the mattress. "Want to join the railcar gang?"

"Yes, absolutely!" The two of you stand, naked in the cool air, and look around for a bare spot to add your likeness. "Not alot of wall space, is there?" You quip.

"How about next to the mattress?" Jules offers, and the two of you push the old mattress to the side.

Underneath, in big blocky letters is written "CAR 302 - HELP!"

"Oh! This looks fresh." Jules says, "we should investigate." He reaches for his flashlight.

"Okay, but if I'm going to go find another clue in the rain, I'm definitely putting on my clothes first."

He gives you a guilty grin. "If you must, although I think we got your coat a little wet," he says handing it to you off the mattress.

###

Car 302 was down near the far end of the derailed train, just behind the engine. The door at the front of the car slid open easily but the back half had been ripped open, letting the rain pour inside.

Unlike the careful sketches and sarcastic messages of the candle rail car, the graffiti here was jagged, frantic lines. Still recognizable as Lizzy's script, but done in a crazed rush.

On the ceiling, there are two identical stick figures, men standing in shallow water, one of them holds a paddle. Scratched above them the word "Tom?" and "MLK". Farther down the car, there's a snake, with fangs drawn, wrapped around a girl stick figure with angry eyes. "Crown Prom Bitch" is written underneath that sketch.

"Look!" Jules picks up some hair from the floor - Lizzy's? Looking around you see lots of it scattered around the car. Cut, and burned.

Farther down the car, you find a longer message scrawled along the window pane. "It's still following me. I can't shake it. Going to gas station to try and call Brenna. She'll believe me."

The next several windows are smashed and the back of the train car is ripped open to the air, letting the drizzling rain seep in. As you turn around, looking back into the car, you see the same message has been carved into every single one of the leather seats, repeated over and over.

"It always comes before dawn."

All the hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

"Jules, I think we might have a problem."

Distantly, over the sound of the falling rain. you here a click, click, click, hisssssss

###

You peer out into the rain, eyes straining against the darkness, looking desperately for signs of movement. With the rain hitting the branches, the whole forest seems to be alive, shaking in anticipation.

"Fuck," you mutter, clicking off your flashlight and stepping away from the edge of the car. "The Leshy is out there, I heard it."

Jules walks up behind you, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Do you think it knows where we are?"

"I'm not sure, it's been here before and it found Lizzy so let's not bet on staying here."

Jules zips up his coat. "So we run?"

"We run."

###

The two of you start at a slow trot, following the sunken railroad tracks back towards the state forest road. The crunch crunch of feet on sticks sounds impossibly loud of the rain and neither you nor Jules feels ready to talk yet.

How much further to the road? How long did you walk on the road from your bikes? You desperately try to remember but this evening feels ages ago and you are suddenly painfully aware that you skipped dinner to go explore.

Click, click, click, hisssssss. You hear it. Somewhere behind you, back near the railcars. You glance back and see movement. Not on the ground but up in the branches, moving a little too fast for this world, as if it was only halfway here. Click click, click click. HISSSSSS.

It strikes like a viper, leaping to the tree not twenty feet behind you.

"RUN!" you shout and the two of you take off.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you race between the trees, smashing through bushes that snag on your skirt and scratch your coat. Your lungs burn but you feel the adrenaline surge through your veins. You leap over a fallen log, tumble down a short ravine and scramble back to your feet. Looking around wildly, you don't see Jules.

Did he get away, did you leave him? Click, click, click, hisssssss. You hear the Leshy, moving somewhere above the ravine. Fuck, you dare not call out. You turn and run, praying that he is doing the same.

Your caves ache, your thighs are rubbed raw where they chafe beneath your skirt. Your face and hands are soaked from the spray of rainwater. Behind you, you hear the rustling of trees as the Leshy moves, getting closer? You can't tell and you dare not look back.

You explode out of the tree line and onto the gravel forest road. Clicking on your flashlight, you let out a sob of relief as you see your bikes, tucked under a tree just a hundred feet away. And there is Jules, holding both bikes and staring into the dark forest underbrush desperately.

"Jules!" You cry out. He turns, his face awash in relief and joy. Jules starts towards you, pulling both bikes behind him.

CRASH! The Leshy explodes out of the woods between the two of you.

"Fuck!" you shout, drawing the creature's gaze, its open chest showing the eerie green glowing heart. It starts moving towards you with its disjointed movement, it's long, claw-like fingers dragging on the ground.

Click, click, click, goes its limbs with a mechanical whir.

"HEY! HEY YOU!" Jules shouts, desperately trying to draw the creature's attention.

Though it has no mouth, an unearthly voice hisses from it, as if all the words were spoken from a distorted speaker in another room.

"Sssssteals my girllllllllll... " the creature hisses. It reaches towards you, it's lanky bark covered arms reaching unnaturally long towards you.

You scream, scrambling backwards.

"FUCK YOU!" Jules shouts, throwing a hefty branch at the creature's head. The Leshy twists towards Jules, rising up to its full height before him.

"No! Jules!" You shout in alarm. Jules hurls a fist full of gravel at the creature. It snarls and bounds towards him. Jules leaps on his bike and peels out, racing away as fast as his short legs will take him.

The Leshy gives chase, its limbs clicking along like cards in a bicycle wheel, and the two of them take off down the state road and around the bend.

You run after them, kneeling to pick up your bike where it had fallen, struggling to arrange your skirts and then frantically pedaling down the road.

Rounding the bend, you scan the dark gravel path, trying to hang onto your flashlish while gripping the handlebars but there's no sign of Jules or his pursuer.

Wracked by guilt, fear and adrenaline, you spend the next hour biking home, your legs numbly. going on autopilot. Finally, the apartment complex comes into view in the inky pre-dawn twilight.

With renewed vigor, you push yourself forward, stumbling towards Jules' apartment. There! His bike, chained up on the rack next to the stairs up to his unit. You let out an involuntary sob of relief, barely noticing the blood splatters on the back tire.

Unconcerned with the hour, you pound on the door until a shirtless Jules opens, with his disgruntled father a few steps behind. You wrap him in a fierce hug which he wincingly accepts, holding his injured arm above his head.

"You're safe. We're safe. That's all that matters." He whispers softly in your ear.

###

He walks you back to your apartment and briefly explains that the creature nearly caught up just around the bend, he has a gash on his arm wrapped up in gause but he doesn't think it will need stitches.

"Some night, huh?" He says, helping you shed your rain soaked clothes back in your own room.

"Memorable?" You mummer.

"Unforgettable," he replies. He glances at the clock. "It's almost 3 in the morning, you should get some sleep."

"You too," you protest.

"Yeah, but my dad will be pissed if I fall asleep in some girl's room." He says, softly kissing your forehead.

"I'm not some girl, I'm your first," you say from beneath a giant pile of covers.

"And the best. Sleep, Brenna, we will figure out what's next when you're rested."

And with that, you float off to dreamless sleep.

###

The light coming in between the curtains has completely shifted angles by the time you awake but its not the afternoon sun that rouses you but the apartment door opening and Crystal calling out.

"Yo! Homeskillet! You alive in here?"

"Mmmmhmmm," you grumble. "In here."

Crystal strides into your room with all the confidence of being your best friend and plops down onto the room.

"So, how are you feeling?" she asks, pulling out a folder of homework assignments and tossing them on your desk.

"I'm alright. A bit sore but alright," you say, taking a sip of water from your bedside table.

"Oh, Jules dick was that big, huh?" Crystal asks. You spray water all over the sheets.

"What?!"

"Oh come on, he drags himself into school midday with a story of the two of you being chased by a horrible monster and hiding out all night in a railcar in the woods. All with that stupid, dreamy expression on his face? As if!"

You blush. "It was an... unexpectedly exciting night," you offer. She rolls her eyes at you. "Is Jules alright?" you ask.

"Oh his arm? He's fine. He looked tired as all hell, but fine. But enough about his lame ass, I've got two bits of news for you."

You stretch, hoping out of bed. "Mind if I get dressed while we talk?" you ask, wrinkling your nose as your own sweaty pajamas. "I should probably try to do something useful today."

"Sure, go for it!" Crystal says a little too enthusiastically. You slide the closet door open, the wooden slats providing a little bit of privacy between you and her.

"So..." you begin.

"Right," Crystal says, shaking herself from her reverie and suddenly looking anywhere but towards the closet. "Maribeth is missing."

"Missing?"

"Gone. Poof. Without a trace. No one saw her all day and rumor has it, her dad called the front office looking for her."

"Oh no!" you say pulling on fresh underwear and an industrial strength sports bra. "Think she made a run for it?"

"Where would she go? Does she have friends in Seattle?" you wonder, making a mental note to ask Morris. "I'll have to track down those two scumbag friends of hers. Or maybe go talk to Billy again, she seemed to have a soft spot for him."

You grab a large, comfy shirt and pull it over your head, letting it fall just below your bottom.

"Okay, that's the first thing. What's the second?" you ask.

There's a long silence. You pause your search for a skirt long enough to pop your head out. Your friend is twisting her hands in her lap, seized by an uncharacteristic bit of nervousness.

"Crystal?" you ask. She looks up at you and takes a deep breath.

"I'm going to Sadie's. With a girl. I'm taking a girl to Sadie's," she says finally, in a rush.

"Woo hoo!" you yelp, causing her to jump in alarm. You dash out, still pantsless and tackle her with a hug. "Way to go! That's awesome!"

She smiles a smile of overwhelming relief. "Yeah, it is," she says, squeezing you back.

"Who iiiiiisss it? Who who who?" you tickle her as she does her best to fend you off.

"You are such a brat!" she says, decking you with a large stuffed bear. "It's Molly, from chem class."

You search your memory banks, calling to mind the short, light skinned hispanic girl with intense eyes. "Oh she's cuuuuuute!" you declare. Crystal blushes.

"Yeah she is." she mumbles.

"Have you told anyone else?" you ask. Crystal shakes her head.

"No one. My folks think I'm going with friends. I wanted to tell you first because..." she looks down at her feet, and you are suddenly very aware of your half-dressed state.

"Because you are the reason I knew I liked girls." she finally says, her cheeks burning.

"Oh!" You say, searching for words.

"At first, I didn't know if I wanted to be you, or if I was jealous of you or just wanted to kiss you but now I know. Took me long enough but I know for sure."

You take her hands, and look deep into her eyes.

"I'm so grateful to be part of that. What a relief to have that figured out!" you say, but Crystal laughs.

"Relief? No, no, no. It's terrifying. I've never even kissed a girl before! Like, what do I do with my hands? What if I'm no good at it?"

"You'll be great. Here," you take one of her hands and put it on your hip, "you put one hand here, and the other," you guide her other hand to your cheek. Gently, you lean in and capture her lips, savoring the taste of her chapstick. Her lips are soft and part, tongues gently teasing as she moans softly deep in her throat.

Finally, you part, her eyes still closed. Slowly, she comes back to her senses.

"I... think I could get used to that," she said softly. "No wonder Jules was grinning like an idiot all day."

"You're incredible Crystal, Molly is a very lucky girl."

Crystal wraps you up in her strong arms and squeezes you tight in a hug. "You're pretty neat yourself, Brenna."

DING DONG. The doorbell rings and the two of you give a little jump. Crystal gives you a conspiratorial look and the two of you head over to the apartment door.

Crystal peers through the peephole and then whirls to you.

"It's Mr. Pendegrast!" she hisses with excitement. "I didn't know librarians made house calls," she says, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

"Wait, let me finish getting dressed!" you say hustling back to your bedroom.

"Why bother?" She whispers as you beat a hasty retreat. As you grab a black pleated skirt, you hear Crystal opening the door and the soft rumble of Simon's voice.

You return to find Simon standing in the living room, wearing a simple button down with a sports jacket and holding a black doctor's bag.

"Hello Brenna," his voice is soothing and contains so much promise and for a moment, you two are the only ones in the room. Then he appears to remember Crystal standing there expectantly and tries to continue.

"I didn't see you at school today and wanted to bring over... the books you put on hold... for the project," he fumbles his way forward. Crystal shoots you a bemused glance.

"Well, you two best get to work on that... project." Crystal says, sarcastically. She turns to you and gives your hand a squeeze.

"Thank you," she says softly. She opens the door and you hear her hollering at a car idling in the parking lot. "Hey, bozo, you are gassing up the plus. Take your kidnap van somewhere else!"

You roll your eyes and close the door.

"Hey," you say. "We should talk." Simon sets down his bag and points towards the door.

"Does she know?" he asks.

"About my psychic powers or the fact that we're sleeping together?"

Simon gives an alarmed wheeze. "Your abilities, your abilities!"

You shrug. "She does," you say simply. "What can I do for you, Simon?"

He peers into your face, discerning.

"What is wrong?" he asks.

"That depends," your eyes narrowing. "You were talking with Principal Sheiffield about me, about my abilities behind my back. What do you want from me?"

Simon looks at you nervously, glancing at the apartment door as if he might bolt, then gives a soft chuckle.

"Oh, that. No no, nothing to worry about. I was just..." but he stops at your piercing glare.

"Well, I... uh..." You deliver your best withering stare, refined by almost two decades of marriage and raising a Hermes blessed son.

Simon sighs and sits down on the couch next to his bag.

"I'm sorry, Brenna, that I haven't been completely honest with you. For the last fifteen years, I have been a member of the Tunguska Division. We are an academic organization committed to documenting and expanding upon paranormal phenomena for the purposes of national security."

"National security?!" You scoff. "So you work for the government."

"Actually, Lockheed Martin and a consortium of pharmaceutical interests."

"Great. Even better!" You snap.

"Look, I understand you are upset but consider the good that could be done with your abilities. Imagine whole teams of remote viewers, able to solve crimes in city's miles away, able to see terrorists before they strike or find lost children in a crisis."

Simon's voice is smooth and compelling but his eyes, they keep flickering to the door and back.

"I came to Mercer Island because we detected a big spike in Ellison particles in the area and my employer was able to set up a job for me with Principal Sheiffield, thanks to a generous donation to your new athletic field. Go islanders."

"Go islanders." You respond by rote. Damn, you have been in high school too long.

"After you helped solve the case last year, I knew you must be the one. And I was right! But there is so much more you can do. Our predictions show that you should be capable of generating enough Ellison particles to not just enter the collective unconscious but, with the right training, enter the conscious mind of another! Imagine - the world's secrets at your fingertips. And all we need from you is a small sample of your blood."

From his black medical bag, he withdraws blue surgical gloves and a hypodermic needle.

"Oh fuck that." You say. "I'm not giving you anything."

He looks at you, an odd glint in his eye.

"Brenna, be reasonable. It is completely harmless."

You fold your arms over your chest.

"I do not consent. You need to leave now." He sighs, setting aside the needle.

"Very well." He reaches inside the bag and pulls out a white cloth and uncaps a brown glass canister, he swiftly douses the cloth with a strong smelling liquid.

"We will do this the hard way."

He explodes off the couch, leaping over the side table and snatching your wrist. You backpedal into the kitchen, twisting frantically to try and free your arm. You knock the remains of some half eaten TV dinner to the ground but he holds you fast.

"This will only hurt for a moment," he snarls, yanking you towards him, trying to smother your face with the cloth. "Far safer than when I tried to hit you with that truck - clearly adrenaline does not enhance your abilities."

You hold your breath, contorting your body, and clawing at Simon but he is too strong. Thinking quickly, you take a quick breath of clean air through your nose and then slowly go limp in his arms.

"There we go." He mummers, gently setting you down on the kitchen floor. You keep your eyes closed, trying to control the rise and fall of your chest.

Finally, you hear him step away to retrieve the medical bag. Grope around with your right hand and find the fallen fork, grasping it tight in your fist.

Simon returns and for a moment, the silence stretches on. Can he tell I'm still awake? What is he doing? You desperately want to open your eyes but you dare not.

"Such a waste." Simon mummers, and you feel his hand on your chest, sliding inside your shirt to caress your breast.

"Haaaaa!" You jam the fork as hard as you can into his shoulder. He roars in pain as you scramble to your feet and throw open the apartment door.

From the top of the stairs, you can see a black van parked in the fire lane of the parking lot. At the sight of you racing out of your apartment, the van door slides open and two men in green "security" windbreakers jump out.

"Get her!" Simon bellows from the doorframe, clutching his bloody shoulder.

BOOOOOOM! A thunderclap rings out followed by a crunch of the back window of the van shattering to a thousand pieces.

"That, my dear gentleman, was a ten pound ball loaded into a cast iron culverin. A single shot can punch a hole in the mast of a Spanish warship from a distance of 150 yards."

The admiral stands between two cannons, each no bigger than a small goat pointed at the two men and their van, a lit taper in his hand and a maniacal glee on his countenance.

"It's sister, on the other hand, is packed with enough shrapnel to turn your guts into fish nets before you ever lay a hand on that girl." He brings the taper inches from the fuse. "Now, what do you say about that?"

Taking the opportunity, you scurry over to stand at the Admiral's side. Simon staggers down the stairs and looks over at the two of you, his eyes filled with impotent rage.

The admiral waves the taper. "Go on now! Be off with you!"

The three of them beat a hasty retreat, the broken glass tinkling behind them as they peel out.

You give the Admiral a fierce hug. "Oh my god, thank you! How did you know..."

He snorts. "Hostile vessels in my harbor? I had these trained on them the moment they arrived. All in a day's work, ma'am." He snaps a salute which you eagerly return.

###

"What did your mom say when she got home last night?" Crystal asks as you, Jules and her all stroll down the road to school Thursday morning, hand-in-hand, basking in the glow of each other's company.

"I didn't tell her. What would I say? Where would I even begin?" You answer. It's a dewy morning, where the fog just hangs in the air, moistening your cheeks and bringing little droplets to your eyelashes.

"Sorry mom, some scary government contractors tried to steal my vital fluids so my neighbor chased them off with a howitzer. Anyway, how was your day?" Jules laughs. "You're right, it sounds ridiculous."

"How's your arm?"

"Feeling great right now." Jules says, laying his head on your shoulder.

"Oh gross." Crystal rolls her eyes but gives your arm an affectionate squeeze on the other side.

"Okay, game face everyone, the dance is tomorrow night and if that threatening note in the locker is anything to go by, we've got to wrap this up before then."

"Right." Crystal says. "So, have you actually asked Cody yet?"

"Uhhh..." you search your memory. "... shit. I've been kindof busy!'

Jules smirks. "Yeah you have."

"Hush, you." You shake your head. "Okay, step one..."

###

You catch Cody right before English class. His tousled brown hair clashes horribly with his bright graphic tee but he blushes adorably when you ask him to Sadies.

"It's not too last minute?" you ask, worried. He shakes his head.

"Nope!" he says. "I'll pick you up at six?"

"Yeah," you give him an excited grin and then stand on tiptoes to steal a quick kiss.

"Can we meet up with friends at Denny's for dinner?" you ask. "I think Dylan will be there too, and Jessica. I know it's not, like, super fancy but..."

"No, no. That sounds like fun. Dennys with the rail gang!" he says, but then the smile slides off his lips. "Well, most of us."

You reach up and pull him close as the students churn around you, pushing past to get to the classes. "We will celebrate in their memory."

He nods. "We will. It's the right thing to do."

Craning up, you whisper in his ear. "Also, I think it could be a very special night for us," gently caressing the front of his pants while no one can see.

"Oh! Yes please!" He says with an adorable eagerness. The first bell rings out and he snatches a quick kiss before starting to dash off. "See you tomorrow at six?"

"Tomorrow at six!" you call to him. He does a little skip jump in joy and vanishes around the corner.

"Brenna?" You nearly jump out of your skin as Jessica materializes right next to you.

"Jesus!" you swear. "Hi Jessica."

"Hey, can you walk me to my next class? We're up in the solarium," she asks.

"The what?" You ask but she's already headed down a side hallway to a discrete staircase.

"I think it was originally planned as a teacher's lounge but Mrs. Henkel sometimes holds her elective Shakespere class there," Jessica explains. "She says it, 'replicates the original theater experience'" Jessica intones.

"Personally, I think it's kinda chilly because of all the windows but it is nice on sunny days. Just watch out, there's still busted pieces of rebar hanging around from when they fixed the stairs."

The two of you follow the stairs up to the top of the school building.

"So what's on your mind?" you ask. She looks at you plaintively.

"Are you going to the dance tomorrow?" She asks, with intentional casualness. You nod.

"Yeah, with Cody." Jessica looks down at her books.

"I thought I'd be going with Tom," she says. "To dance under the stars and, I don't know, have that romantic night with my favorite Marten? You know what I mean?"

"I'm so sorry, this must be so hard for you." She fidgets a bit as the two of you reach the door to the solarium, propped open to let the students in.

"I was thinking about asking you, but if you are going with Cody," she pouts a bit, catching your eye.

"Sorry," you apologize again but she shakes her head.

"No no, it's okay. I'll go on my own. I think you all are going to Denny's right?" She asks hopefully.

"Yes! Of course, yes, come with us. We will go as a group, that way you won't feel so alone."

She looks so relieved, you reach out and sweep her into a hug. She melts in your arms for just a moment but then the second bell rings out and two students push their way past you.

"Okay, Friday night at Dennys, see you there!"

###

Despite being cartoonishly late for your class, your history teacher barely notices your entrance. During lunch, you try to stop by Morris' office but he's not there. That mystery is solved right before the end of the day as you are finishing up Chemistry class when Principal Sheiffield comes on the intercom.

"Students, I know that our community has been gripped by tragedy recently but I have an important bit of news to share. Thanks to the efforts of our law enforcement professionals, we have made an arrest in the murders of Mr. Jovanovic, Hershal and Ms. Lewis. Maribeth Jovanovic has been detained by Detective Morris and will face trial for her crimes. Know that our community is safe, that justice will be served and that this unimaginable tragedy will soon be behind us."

An arrest? Morris must have taken her back to Seattle. But what about the other Tom? You shake your head. This doesn't feel right. It doesn't add up! But Principal Sheiffield is not done.

"This arrest would not be possible without the hard work of our own Brenna Stevens, who worked diligently to assist with the investigation. All Islanders owe her a debt of gratitude."

Just like that, every face in the classroom turns towards you. Fifty eyeballs staring in... concern? Confusion? Skepticism? You wish for a moment that the Earth would open and swallow you whole.

"Thank you and stay safe!" Sheffield signs off just before the closing bell. Thank the gods for that bell.

Crystal, with Molly in tow, makes a beeline for you. Molly, in a short black dress, flashes her intense eyes as she approaches.

"What the hell was that?" Crystal asks. Molly looks confused. "Did you really help with the case?" she asks. Crystal rolls her eyes.

"Of course Brenna helped with the case, that's what she does, but announcing it to the whole school?" You shake your head.

"We've got bigger problems. I don't think they've got the right person." Molly looks alarmed.

"What?" Molly asks.

"I need to talk to Morris. I'm borrowing your bike, I'll call you." you say to Crystal and with that, you bolt from the school.

###

As you power walk through the parking lot, a voice calls out.

"Mrs. Stevens!" You round a car to find the two government agents from before, blocking your way.

"Oh shit, I do not have time for this," you mutter but there is no avoiding them now.

"Agent Olinger and Agent Thompson with the FBI," says the man you recognize from the econo lodge stakeout. "We need to ask you a few questions about this man."

His partner pulls out a picture from her suit jacket pocket.

She shows it to you.

"Do you know this man?"

Detective Morris looks a little skinnier in the mugshot, his hair a little thinner but the striking eyes and cheekbones are unmistakable.

"I've seen him," you answer vaguely. The two agents share a glance.

"We understand you've been assisting him with his so-called investigation?" says Olinger.

"I need to go," you say, trying to step around them but Agent Thompson blocks your path, holding up a single slender finger.

"This man is a former mental patient who was held at Bangor," she says in her precise voice. "He was receiving treatment after a psychotic episode and desperately needs help. I understand he can be very... persuasive, especially for young women like yourself."

You bristle at the accusation but she continues. "But he needs help. Now, do you have any idea where he might be?"

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen him in days." Technically true, you think to yourself.

"We believe he is still on the island. Ferry service was out last night due to mechanical issues and it looks like another storm is blowing in, which means he will have found a place to hunker down." The handsome Agent Olinger pushes a card into your hand.

"If he contacts you, please, let us know. Lives may be at stake."

You nod, taking the card and slide past the agents.

###

By the time you retrieve Crystal's bike from her apartment, you have already spotted the agent's sleek black Ford, following at a respectable distance. Not willing to bring expected guests to your confrontation, you lead them on a merry chase through town and finally shake them in the twisty suburbs near the north end of the island.

Now, with daylight rapidly dwindling, you make your way back to the scuzzy hotel behind the stripmall. Giving the parking lot one more glance to make sure you were not followed, you chain up Crystal's bike (extra tight) and find room number nine.

Morris opens the door on the third knock, quickly glancing over your shoulder and pulling you inside.

"Hello love, what are you doing here?"

"I just spoke to those FBI agents that are following you and I have so many..." you hear a muffled shout behind Morris. "... questions?"

There, handcuffed to the hotel bed, is Maribeth, still in a frayed denim skirt and white button up top with black bra showing underneath. She's gagged with what looks like the remains of a pillow case. She looks at you, eyes frantic, nostrils flared and gives another muffled shout.

"Right. Imagine you would." Morris says. He sighs and pours himself two fingers of vodka in a cheap plastic cup. He tosses it back and fixes you with a level gaze.

"Where do you want to start? My tragic backstory or the current crisis?"

"I want to know why a freaking escaped mental patient is pretending to be a Detective?" you demand.

"Tragic backstory it is." Morris quips. Maribeth gives an exasperated huff.

"First of all, I'm not pretending, I am a detective," he says, setting down his cup and peering into your eyes. "Served for twelve years with Scotland Yard. I was right good at it too, cracking cases like I was East End's own Sherlock Holmes. Got me some medals, promotions and plenty of slaps on the back from the upper crust."

"What happened?" you ask. He takes a deep breath.

"My nephew, Carl Bridgewater, sweetest boy you've ever seen. Sang like an angel in church. Had a paper route, was great at school, clever as they come. His mum, my sis, worked the swing shift so I watched him when I got off my beat but he hardly needed watching. Then, one morning on his paper route, he was shot in the head, point blank, with a shotgun while delivering a paper on West Yew Street." Morris pauses, his eyes welling up.

"They said he startled a burglar but the angles were all wrong. He was shot in the side, not the front. The yardies in charge, they bungled the case. I tried to get involved but, well, I wasn't myself. Words... maybe a few fists flew and I was put on a leave of absence."

He pauses to pour himself another drink. "Now, I wasn't going to let a little thing like that stop me. I found the right bastards who did it. Took me the better part of a year but I found them. And I did Carl right by them. That I did."

He drains his glass. "Unfortunately, I was sloppy. Careless even and my old coworkers nabbed me at the scene. Temporary insanity they said. Bollocks. I knew damn well what I was doing. Justice. That's what I was doing. It's what I'm still doing."

All the pieces start to fit together, Morris' complete lack of interaction with the local police, the shitty motel, ducking out to take care of business.

"How'd you come to be here?" you ask.

"Your new friends, those FBI flunkies, they had me locked up in Bangor after a case down in Portland went sideways."

"A case?" you ask.

"A case." he reaffirms. "No bloodshed. Well, no casualties anyway. So they have me in lock up here on the Sound and I hear on the radio about your boy Tom. Another sweet lad, victim of violence. And I knew, I just knew, he would be a number, another unsolved case among thousands of others. And I couldn't let another family go through that."

Maribeth gives a muffled angry shout at "family". He glances over at her.

"Right. Yes, now, does that satisfy you Brenna? I swear on Carl's memory, I mean no harm to anyone but the guilty and am in my right and sound mind. Well, such that it is." He gives a little guilty smile at the end. "No here is completely in their right mind."

"Well, you do have a girl handcuffed to your bedpost," you say with a comforting smile.

"And she has been surprisingly reluctant to share information on her brother's demise, strangely enough. You would think that would be a motivating factor."

You turn to Maribeth and consider your options. You know that she is involved but how? Time to get creative.

"Morris, sit over there and try not to say anything." You say. Morris flops down in the barcalounger.

"Suits me, you take a swing at her." Maribeth watches you intently, unsure of your intentions.

You reach down and gently take the gag out of her mouth.

"Hey," you begin.

"The fuck, Stevens. Get me the fuck out of here!" Maribeth snaps.

"I want to do that, Maribeth, I really do," you say, resting your hand on her leg. "But I need your help first."

Her eyes flit to your hand, then back to Morris, drinking in the corner, and then back to you.

"Oh no, no no no no no. This is a fucked up sex thing isn't it? You two are fucking and you've kidnapped me to be your sex slave. I've seen a thing on this on 60 minutes."

You shake your head. "No, I'm not going to make you my sex slave," at least, not this time. You say to yourself. "We just need to know what happened the night your brother died."

You kneel on the bed, unsure of where to begin.

"What... what are you doing?"

"Probing your mind." you say with as much confidence as you can muster. You squint, trying to reach out with your abilities.

"Are you fucking serious?" Maribeth shouts.

"As a heart attack, bird," says Morris. You continue squinting, trying to clear your mind.

If it is all a pocket world, how do my powers work anyway, you wonder. The dream sequences are fine, just shifting the world around you while you sleep but something like this?

Distantly, you hear the howl of the void. Oh good, you think. It is kicking in.

You glance around and see that the hotel room has vanished except for the bed underneath you and Maribeth. Everything else has been replaced by the endless shifting grey, the wind wiping past your face.

"How the shit?!" Maribeth shouts, trying to scrunch herself up near the headboard to get away from the void.

"Maribeth, I need you to take us back to that night. Focus!"

She looks at you, vigorously shaking her head.

"No. No no no no. I won't. I can't. He'll find out. He'll make me... "

"Who? Who are you afraid of?"

Her head snaps back, her eyes milky white. She opens her mouth and gives an unearthly scream. Out of her mouth, a thick green snake erupts, its eyes yellow and furious. It stands erect, a thick snake towering of you.

"SHE IS PROTECTED... " the snake hisses. In a burst of courage, you leap forward and grab the snake, yanking it from her mouth. It screams and twists in your hands but you hurl it off the bed and into the void, watching it dwindle to a speck and then it is gone.

Maribeth looks at you with big terrified watery eyes.

"What have you done?" She whispers.

"Please, help me," you whisper, touching her shoulders. "Take me to that night."

The bed turns, like an ancient sailing ship and distantly you see short green grass illuminated by the lights of the Jovanovic mansion. Gently, the bed touches down, tipping slightly to deposit you on the grass. You hear shouting inside the mansion. You glance backwards but the bed, and Maribeth has completely disappeared.

The mansion is even more imposing at night. You step gingerly on the wet lawn towards the front door.

BANG! The door flies open and Clarissa stumbles out. Her tangled curls are scattered all over like a golden halo as she wanders down the front steps and into the lawn.

"Hey, you look familiar..." she says, pointing at you.

"I'm too late!" You say, rushing past her into the open door of the mansion.

Maribeth is standing on the main staircase, in an outfit that can only be described as "stripper chic". She's shouting up the stairs.

"How can you be so fucking calm?" She hollers, charging up the stairs in her uncomfortable heels. "This isn't another one of your messes that I can clean up!"

You follow her up the stairs as she charges down the hallway and kicks open a door.

Inside, Tom stands, alive and well, brandishing a long thin sword in the middle of the bedroom.

He turns to his sister, a wild manic look in his eyes.

"I'm free, dear sister, free!" He gives a crazed laugh and swings the blade back and forth.

"Jeebus, put Dad's cane away. You know how he feels about that thing."

"Of course I do, he wanted to keep it from us, he always knew best, didn't he?"

Tom cackles. "Not anymore. No going back to sculking in that damp cave. No more living half a life. No more having to share with Tom."

The way he says the name, Tom, makes it drip with venom. Like something distasteful that he wishes to spit in the ditch.

Maribeth steps forward, pleading.

"Too many kids saw him. They saw his body. By tomorrow, half the school will know that he's dead. How the hell are you going to show up at school now?"

"Fuck school. Fuck it all. Fuck my druggy side chick. Fuck that whore Jessica. Those pretentious assholes on the swim team. It doesn't matter anymore." He leaps up on the bed, swinging the blade this way and that.

"Fuck Jessica?" Maribeth asks, cautiously. The man who is not Tom slumps slightly, and then turns, enraged.

"She will get what she deserves." He snarls.

"Father will never let you out once they find out Tom is dead. It's too risky." Maribeth says.

"It's too risky. It's too risky," he sneers sarcastically. "That's what he always says. When he couldn't secure enough passports to get all of us out of Croatia, it was too dangerous to try again. How about forcing me to hide out in the attic or that cold wet cave? Was that too dangerous? What about smuggling the Tzar's mystic artifacts out of Croatia, was that too dangerous? Enough!"

The man turns to her, holding the hilt of the blade, a cane handle, and in a flash, his eyes transform into that of a snake. Maribeth gasps, dropping to her knees. You can see the snake tattoo on her back, uncoiling and wrapping around her hips and moving up towards her throat.

"You forget yourself, dear sister," the man's eyes blazing. "I have unlocked the Leshy, I wield the Kljuc blade." Maribeth begins to writhe, her arms bending backwards behind her back.

"Don't do this," she pleads. "Please, Marten, Please!"

He releases the hilt of the sword and Maribeth drops, like a marionette who's strings had been cut.

"Enough." He turns back towards the window. "My time has come and there will be blood."

Maribeth whimpers and shifts, her hands still held above her head as the room dissolves around you.

Dimly, the grey void whirls and shifts until the hotel room has reassembled around you. Maribeth is there, arms still bound to the headboard, wrists hanging above her head, moaning softly to herself.

"No, Marten, no..."

You reach up and untie her, whispering in her ear.

"Don't worry, we will stop your brother."

###

It only takes one ring of Cody's doorbell to bring Nicole to the front door. She's dressed in a breezy top and jean shorts, despite it continuing to be January in the pacific northwest. She looks startled at your appearance at her front door.

"Oh, hello Brenna! What a nice surprise! I thought that we were coming over to pick you up tonight for the dance."

You give her a warm smile.

"That's right, you are. We just need to meet and make some plans before then, and since there's no school today because of the dance, Cody offered to meet here."

Nicole beckons you in. "Oh that silly boy, if I had known we were going to have company, I would have prepared some snacks." She gives you a hug, pressing her warm body against yours just long enough to be scandalous before waving you into the living room.

Cody is there, sprawled out on a couch. He hops up as soon as he sees you.

"Hey," he says bounding over to where you are. There's a moment's hesitation as he reaches you, does he kiss you, are you dating now, but he recovers quickly and gives you a warm hug.

"Jessica texted, she's on her way. Dylan is coming too." You nod, appreciating him jumping right into business.

"Thank you, we're going to need all the help we can get." In other room, you hear Jules and Crystal's voices as Nicole ushers them into the living room.

"Will the detective be joining us?" Cody asks. You shake your head.

"He's got his hands full right now but he will be ready when the time comes."

Jules gives Cody a cautious nod and for a moment, you are grateful that Cody and you didn't immediately start making out. No need to push the envelope, you need everyone focused. Jules unslings his backpack and he and Crystal unroll the school blueprints he swiped from the administration office, along with a variety of sharpies.

In short order, you are all gathered around the coffee table - you, Cody, Crystal, Jules, Jessica and Dylan while Nicole flitted about with cups of orange juice and some mini-bagels.

"Will the door to the pool be unlocked? I bet they lock down that whole area during the dance." Jessica remarks, pointing to the double-doors on the blue prints.

"No, that's a good point." You scratch your head, trying to trace another route through the school.

"Wait, Coach Jefferson's key!" Dylan pipes up.

"Dude, yeah." Cody says. "Coach is always leaving his master key hanging on a hook in the locker room office. I could grab it today before the dance, if I can get into the school."

Jessica nods. "That's no problem, I'm on the decorating committee, I can get you in."

"Excellent. What about crowd control?" You ask. "Because once things get hairy, people are going to panic."

"What if there was something else going on, a fire or something, that would get people moving before things really got messy?" Jules asks.

"Yes! Nothing that could destroy the school but something that would cause a panic." You say.

"I think I know someone who could help with that," Crystal says. "Someone who already has a key to the chemistry closet."

"Perfect!" you say, giving the plan once more keen look.

"Now comes the real hard part," you stand up and take a deep breath. "Trying not to get any food on our nice clothes before the dance!"

###

"You know I didn't end up going to my Sadies," Tammy remarks as her skillful hands work your long hair into an elegant braid, while still leaving two wispy bits to trail down and frame your face.

"No?" You ask, watching her in the bathroom mirror. She shook her head as she did the final step, wrapping the braids up into a bun with an elegant silver hair pin.

"Your father and I were already dating and he wasn't much for dancing. We did end up going to prom though. Your dad looked so handsome that night."

You realize you didn't get Tammy's story but are unsure how to ask.

"Do you miss him?" you ask. She nods, fidgeting with the strap on your red and black dress.

"It's been plenty of years," she says. "But yes, I miss him." She takes a long sip of her Rainer. "I wish he could see you now, you look incredible sweetheart."

The dress which Tammy had procured looks amazing, with thin straps, red silk and a black overlay of flowers and vines. The bust, obviously designed for a high school girl's physique, showed a scandalous amount of your chest but so far, no one had commented on that or your tattoos so you didn't mind.

Ding dong!

"That must be your man," Tammy says. You turn around but she catches you by the shoulders.

"I know that you are a grown woman, and you will make good choices so I won't stay up late waiting for you but," she glances outside where a truly torrential amount of rain is pouring against the window, "please be careful and don't get in a car with anyone drunk, okay?"

"I won't, I promise." You give her a warm embrace, as she tears up a little bit before she goes to open the door.

Cody is there, looking striking in his tuxedo, holding a plastic case with your corsage in it. He sees you and his jaw drops, struck absolutely speechless.

"Well, quit gawking and get in there, I'm getting soaked out here!" you hear from behind him. Cody blushes and steps inside, revealing his mom Nicole right behind him with a camera.

"Hi, Mrs. Stevens," says Nicole, introducing herself to Tammy, "I'm Cody's mom, Mrs. Harris. I can see where Brenna gets her good looks!"

"Oh hush, pleasure to meet you," says Tammy, waving her in with her beer. The two women set to chattering away. Cody awkwardly approaches.

"You look really nice Brenna," he says, biting his lip and struggling in vain to keep his eyes focused on your face.

"Thanks, you do too," you say, doing a little wiggle causing him to blush again.

"Is that for me?" you ask.

"Yes! Sorry," he pops open the clamshell case and pulls out a beautiful white and red rose corsage, slipping the elastic band over your wrist.

Click! Click! The shutter goes off as Nicole captures the moment.

"Aren't they so beautiful?" Nicole says as you and Cody do a variety of poses. He feels good, with his arm wrapped around your waist and your head gently on his shoulder. He's just the right height, you decide.

"Are you driving them there?" Tammy asks.

Nicole shakes her head. "No, we took separate cars, Cody's got his license."

"Well, do you want a beer? I've got plenty." Tammy offers.

"Actually, I've given up drinking. Now I do nutritional smoothies. I have one with me if you want to try it." Nicole offers.

"You know, I've been thinking I should probably cut back..." as the two mothers prattle on, Cody leans in close to you.

"Do you have the stuff for tonight?"

"Yeah, it's in my bag. Let me go grab it." You slip back to your bedroom and grab the black shoulder bag, trying to ignore the heavy clunk as it hits the door on your way back to the living room.

Cody calls out to Tammy and Nicole.

"Okay, we're headed out!" he says.

"Have fun you two!" they say almost in unison. You blow Tammy a kiss, which causes Nicole to blush until she realizes she wasn't the intended recipient and with that, the two of you brave the rain to Cody's beat up Honda.

"Phew, that was relatively painless," Cody says after helping you into the car. He glances up at the closed apartment door and then leans in, stealing a kiss.

You sigh into him.

"Sorry, I don't think I could resist kissing you any longer."

"Oh darn," you say with a grin.

"Okay, Denny's?" he asks.

"The dinner of champions!" and you drive off into the gushing rain.

###

"No, I don't think the X-Files are real," Cody retorts.

"Oh come on," Jules fires back, moving a tower of onion rings out of the way. "You are telling me that there isn't some secret alien conspiracy stuff going down that we don't know about?"

"Definitely some probing shit going on. Because let's be honest, if you had a flying saucer, you'd definitely go probing," says Dylan. His date, a wiry girl named Hillary that you have in PE, laughs.

"You both are wrong," Jessica pipes up from the end of the table, her chicken caesar salad mostly untouched. "There isn't any alien stuff going down because..." she pauses for dramatic effect, "We are all aliens!"

You hide a bemused smirk by poking your lukewarm linguine alfredo. Well, she's not wrong, technically speaking.

"How do you figure?" Molly, Crystal's date, asks.

"Because, we don't know if life originated on Earth, we could be intergalactic hitchhikers for all we know. Now that would blow some minds." Jessica says.

"Come on, the government isn't capable enough to handle a conspiracy," says Crystal. "Look at the ferry system, they can't even keep the ferries running during a little rain."

"Okay, but it is a category four pacific storm going on out there," Jules contests. "Hardly a little rain. And we've been cut off from the mainland before, not a big deal."

"But that's missing the point," Dylan interjects. "If there was some government conspiracy to keep all the spooky stuff under wraps, wouldn't they have hauled away Brenna in a black van or something by now?"

Your head snaps up in alarm. Cody shoots his friend a warning look which he promptly ignores.

"What do you mean?" Molly asks.

"It's not a thing..." Crystal tries to explain but Dylan plows forward.

"Yeah, with the visions and stuff that you get. Psychic powers. Pretty sure that's the sort of thing that would get you shoved into a secret bunker, right?"

"Dude not cool," Jules begins at the same time Cody snaps back. "You're a jackass, you know that Dylan?"

Jessica looks across the table at you with an odd look in her eyes.

"What are they talking about Brenna?" she asks, staring pointedly across the table.

"Sometimes I dream things that have happened or will happen," you say vaguely. "It's just a thing that happens to all the women in my family. It's not a pleasant experience. And now, I haven't been sent off to a bunker yet," you say, desperately trying not to think of Simon and his syringe.

Cody gives your hand a comforting squeeze under the table and then taps his glass with his spoon bringing the conversation to an immediate halt.

"A moment, if you will," He stands, holding up the glass.

"I don't have to remind you that the last couple of weeks have been absolutely insane," he begins. "Our whole world has been turned upside down, we have lived through things that no other kid should have to experience, and yet here we are, sitting around this table, making the best of it."

He locks eyes with each of the people at the table. Crystal and Molly, Jules, Jessica, Dylan and his date Hillary, and finally you.

"The dangers we have faced require us to harden our hearts and be brave, but I believe that to find hope, to find love, to find happiness in the darkest moments of our lives is the bravest thing we can do."

He raises his glass. "So tonight, I remember the Rail Car gang. To Tom, to Matt, to Lizzy, wherever you are, may you shine on as our light in the darkness. To our lost friends and a brighter tomorrow!"

"Here here!" cries Dylan and the crowd takes up the call. "Here here!"

As Cody sits down, Molly leans in. "So why do you call it the rail car gang?" she asks.

Cody laughs. "Lizzy has a little spot out in the woods where we've built a hideout out of old rail cars."

Dylan snorts, "Yeah, and to be a member, you have to be railed, in the car!"

Jules locks eyes with you and mouths "too late" to you causing you to crack up. Cody gives you a questioning look before turning to Jules.

"Hey, did you say you had a date for the dance?" He asks. Jules nods.

"Yep, I'm meeting her there, in fact," he glances at his watch, "I think we all should be going, right?"

You glance at the clock on the wall. Showtime. You nod back.

"Check please," Jules calls to the waiter.

###

Once back in the car, Cody apologizes for his friend being a dick but you ssshh him with another lengthy kiss in the parking lot before finally relenting and braving the flooded streets to get to the high school.

The parking lot is a sloppy mess but Cody manages to snag a decent parking spot near the back of the gym and the two of you make a frantic run for the entrance. You are grateful for choosing the sensible sneakers with the dress - considering your plans for tonight, you did not want to be caught in high heels.

The two of you shake off the rain in the foyer before proceeding, arm in arm, through the tunnel of lights to the "Follow Your Heart" dance.

Already, half the graduating class is there in awkward conversation circles or dancing to vaguely familiar one hit wonders on the dance floor. You fold your arm into Cody's, giving him a squeeze and together the two of you join in the fun. You write your names on the giant red heart and grab glasses of fruit punch under the watchful eye of Patricia, who came prepared with an extra forceful glare. Together, you pose for pictures in front of a rather uninspired backdrop and when Bryan Adams "I Do It for You" comes on, the two of you slide onto the dance floor.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and softly sway as he whispers soft praises in your ears, and sneaks little kisses on your neck when the chaperones aren't watching.

"This is really nice," you sigh, welcoming his arms around you.

"Yeah it is," he echoes back.

"I know it is going to get crazy at some point tonight," Cody mumbles, "But I wish we could sneak off and get some time just the two of us before then."

"I think I owe you something from our meeting at the quarry," you say with a saucy grin.

"You damn right you do," he smiles back. As the song concludes, you pull him in for another kiss before finally breaking as a dance number comes on.

"Hey, there's our group!" Cody says, pointing towards Crystal, Dylan and Jessica. No sign of Jules but that means he's right on schedule.

"Is Molly..." you begin, but Crystal nods.

"Yep, she's getting it all set up."

"Good." you respond. "Everyone having fun?" you ask. Dylan gives a sarcastic laugh.

"Time of my life." he quips.

"Harris! Langaber!" Coach Jefferson materializes out of some shadowy alcove behind the boys. "The damn fake pillars fell over and need your help getting them set back up," he nods towards the group. "'Scuse me ladies."

Cody and Dylan give a sigh, "Coming," says Cody as they follow the coach.

"Scuse me ladies," Crystal snarks. "What an ass," but Jessica takes the moment to sidle up to you.

"Hey," she whispers in your ear, "Since we've got a moment, do you want to dance?" she asks as a slow song comes on. Her eyes are plaintive and how can you say no?"

You take her hand and the two of you are soon swaying back and forth, heads almost touching, on the dance floor.

"Thank you Brenna," she breathes to you. "I'm having a hard time with this."

"Of course, I'm so sorry." Her fingers are interlaced with yours, her body pressing against your chest.

"I'm not even sure if it would have been easier with Tom here," she answers. "Ever since our night together, I can't stop thinking about you."

You remember the sound of her gasps and the way she writhed on the couch and you feel your cheeks blush.

"It was unlike anything else I've ever done," she continues. "Will I ever have something like that again?"

"I'm sure you will," you say, reassuringly. "This is just high school, you have your whole life ahead of you."

She rubs your arms gently as the song warbles to a climax..

"But with you?" she asks, her big doe-eyes locked on yours. You smile but the abrupt ending to the song and the sudden transition to the macarena saves you from having to answer.

"When I dance, they call me Macarena

And the boys, they say que soy buena," the song calls out as teenagers flood the dance floor to participate.

You see Cody returning from his task and consider your options.

You lean in to Jessica. "It's a shame to let this romantic night go to waste. Would you be willing to share me with Cody? I don't want to leave him out."

Her eyes flicker to where Cody is standing on the sidelines, waiting for the two of you.

"I wouldn't want to be... with him, you know? But I would share you." She blushes. "That sounds kindof hot actually." You give her a comforting squeeze.

"Let me talk to him and if I give you a wave, let's meet in the Solarium." She nods, too nervous to speak as you glide over to where Cody is waiting.

"Is Jessica okay?" He asks. "Not getting cold feet about tonight, I hope."

"No, she's ready to do her part," you say. "She just has a bunch of feelings right now. This was supposed to be a big romantic night and she feels like she's missing out."

"Yeah, I can see that. Poor Jess," he says as you wrap your arms around him, running your hands through his chestnut hair.

"So I promised you something back at the quarry," you begin.

"You did," he says with a big grin.

"I was wondering if you would mind if you, me and Jessica redeemed that promise right now, before things get crazy." You watch as his brain short-circuits in real time.

"You, me.. and Jess?!" he babbles.

"You and Jess wouldn't be together, but you would share me? Would that be..."

"Yes!" he nearly shouts, before giving an embarrassed cough. "Yes, I think that would be fine."

You laugh and turn around to give Jessica a friendly wave.

"You still got that key to the solarium?" you ask.

###

Giggling, the three of you carefully open the door to the darkened classroom. Outside, the night rain gushes in sheets against the windows, as if the entire space was underneath a garden hose.

Not wanting to waste any time, you pull Jessica in for a steamy kiss, hands roaming across her body. She groans into you, caressing your chest through your dress. Cody comes up behind you, layering kiss after kiss on your sensitive neck, as your excitement builds. You lean back, resting your head on his chest as he kisses your closed eyes, while Jessica swiftly works to free herself from her outfit.

Behind you, Cody carefully slides down the zipper on your dress and unhooks the eye hook and pushes it off your shoulders. You quickly wriggle out of it, leaving you in your lacy bra and panties.

You turn around, tugging at Cody's suit jacket.

"I want to see you," you moan as he works to unbutton his shirt. You run your hands along his chest, admiring the firm swimmer's physique and the delightful happy trail leading to promises of more below.

You feel soft hands on your shoulders as Jessica comes behind you and unhooks your bra, peeling it away and taking your breasts into her hands.

"Doesn't she have the most amazing body?" Jessica purrs, tweaking your nipples till they stand tall. You feel Jessica's naked form behind, you pressing into your back.

"Oh god," Cody moans, staring at your chest.

He leans in, kissing your collarbone and then tracing his way across your breasts. Jessica releases them and dips her skillful hands into your panties, finding your already soaked sex.

You moan as she begins working your clit in fast circles. Your knees nearly buckle.

"Oooh okay. We need to figure this out," you say. "Jessica, how about you lay down on your back?"

She grins and complies, spreading out her naked form on the floor, her sex barely covered by her whispy, barely there blonde bush.

You crawl between her legs, planting kisses on the softest part of her inner thigh and being rewarded with mewling shudders from above.

With the tip of your tongue, you gently probe her sex and are delighted to find her already gushing with excitement as you delve inside her honey pot.

You swirl your tongue around her clit as she bucks and writhes beneath you, moaning and gasping, twisting her own nipples as her passion rises.

Taking a pause, you replace your tongue with your fingers, curling them to hit just the right spot inside as her pussy spasms around you.

"Okay," you say softly, "Cody, I need you."

You spread your knees a bit as you feel him move in behind you, his fingertips tracing up and down your back as you continue to strum Jessica's clit.

"Put it in me," you beg to Cody and then you feel it. His thick, throbbing cock sliding between your legs and into your wet, waiting sex.

"Uggnnnn," he moans with satisfaction. "You are so tight." He pulls back, just a few inches and then slides himself all the way in to the hilt. You grunt, feeling so full and stretched but Jessica's gasps bring you back to the present.

"Oh Brenna, oh Brenna!" she cries in chorus, her hips bucking beneath your hands, her eyes screwed shut in a mask of pleasure. You watch her flushed face as she cries out, a loud shuddering gasp, and gushes all over your hands.

"Fuuuuuuck," she moans, her whole body stiff and then falls back on the carpeted floor, completely spent. Behind you, Cody is thrusting harder and faster, a wet slapping fury as your whole body feels on fire.

"Can I help?" Jessica whispers, but all you are able to do is nod. She reaches down and strums your clit, causing your sex to quake around Cody's throbbing cock.

"Aaaaghhh!" you shout, and all the air rushes out of your lungs as the orgasm hits you like a brick wall. Cody keeps thrusting, and Jessica's fingers keep working and before you can catch your breath, another one hits you.

"Gnnngghnn," you moan, incoherent but he continues his assault as Jessica cradles your face, kissing you with all her might. You feel him swell inside of you.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, do I need to.. should I pull out?" he huffs.

"No," you break from Jessica, looking back at his flushed face, his chest dripping with sweat. "I'm safe, cum inside of me."

"Ohhh fuuuuuuck," he moans and then you feel him shooting inside of you, filling you up with load after load till it runs down your legs, as he presses into you with one final thrust.

Together, the three of you collapse in a heap of tangled limbs and messy hair on the floor of the classroom. A flash of lightning illuminates the space as the three of you breathe the same breath, your chests rising and falling in unison.

"So, I know what I'll be thinking about next Shakespeare class," Jessica quips and the three of you dissolve into laughter.

"I suppose we should get back." You murmur.

"Can't we just stay here forever?" Jessica asks, still blissed out, but Cody is already fumbling for his pants, awkwardly knocking over a piece of fallen rebar.

"Hey, kick that over here..." you say.

###

You had almost made it back when you heard the big drumroll. The three of you quickened your step, not quite a run that might attract the sharp eye of Patricia but more of an organized hustle, pausing only for you to help stuff Cody's shirt tails back inside his pants before entering the gym.

The students had cleared a space in the middle of the dance floor and a parent volunteer was wheeling a giant red heart on a dolly to the center.

"Thank you to the decorating committee, and to all our volunteers who helped make this happen," the student body president, Melodie, was droning on as someone put on Sam Cooke's "Cupid" in the background.

You give Jessica's hand a comforting squeeze as Cody slips off to his station. You and Jessica step forward so you are on the edge of the circle of students.

"Can we get a big countdown before the balloon drop?" Melodie asks and with that, the crowd begins chanting. "10, 9, 8, 7..."

At the back of the crowd, next to the big exit doors, you see Dylan and Cody are now in position.

"6, 5, 4..." you feel all the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and underneath all that clatter, the click, click, click, hisssssss.

"3, 2, 1, go!" the crowd cheers. The balloons drop from the ceiling! The heart bursts open in an explosion of crepe paper and a man leaps out.

"Suprise!" shouts Tom as he lands in the middle of the dance floor, a wild look in his eyes.

No. Not Tom. Marten.

The crowd gasps as the balloons bounce off their stunned faces.

"That's right, mother fuckers, you thought I was dead and BAM!" He claps his hands together, making Jessica jump next to you.

"And yet here I am!"

He surveys the crowd, a maniacal grin on his face. He's wearing jeans, and a long coat with pockets and you see a glint of metal somewhere on his hip.

"So how did I accomplish this miracle? Did I stay three days in a cave and was resurrected? Nooooo. No. The answer is much simpler. We lied."

Distantly, you see the parent chaperones frantically convening in the corner. God you hope Morris is ready.

"You see, despite this handsome appearance, I am not that goody-two shoes Tom. No, there weren't enough passports to get us out of the motherland." Marten snarls, pacing back and forth as Sam Cooke warbles in the background.

"Daddy sold his soul to a murderer but couldn't get both his boys to the states? So sad. So tragic. So what did we do? We traded places. Half the time, you were sitting next to me in class while Tom jerked off thinking about his artsy pottery girlfriend. Half the time, you got me, lying to the world and saying I'm Tom. But then, guess what? Tom got a bad case of being bashed in the head. Oh no!"

Marten gives mocking cry.

"What to do? I guess all the rest of you threw a fucking party that you wouldn't have to deal with us. Including my girl, Jessica." All eyes turn to Jessica standing next to you, her face set in a steely look of determination.

"I was gone, what, maybe a week and you fucking started sleeping around!? You said you fucking loved me, not just Tom but me, your Marten but that was a FUCKING lie!"

He clutches his head dramatically,

"I was barely in the ground ten minutes when you were getting all hot and handsy with this lesbian bitch!" He points to you, and the crowd gasps.

You see Principal Sheiffield pushing his way to the middle of the circle.

"Okay, that's quite enough, young man." He says, grasping Marten firmly by the wrist. In flash, Marten pulls a pistol out of his coat pocket and cracks Sheiffield across the face with it. He goes down in a spurt of blood. The crowd screams.

"Are we having fun yet?" He cackles. Marten whirls and points the gun at Jessica.

"And you now you will fucking PAY, slut" He screams.

"NOW!" You call out.

SPLASH!!! Crystal pushes her way to the circle and dumps a giant vat of orange liquid onto the floor. Molly at her side, hurls three water balloons, acid already eating through the colorful plastic, onto the sloppy mess.

FWOOSH! They hit the liquid and instantly chemical foam explodes in all directions. The crowd screams and scatters.

"HERE! OVER HERE!" Dylan and Cody stand at the doors, waving people towards the exits, moving the frightened students and parents swiftly outside.

Marten, coughing through the smoky fumes, staggers towards you and Jessica. You grab her hand and take off running, kicking the doors open and bolting down the hallways.

"FUCKING BITCH!" screams Marten, racing after the two of you.

"Jesus he's fucking fast!" Jessica gasps as you zip around a corner and bolt out the double doors towards the swimming pool. You race through the pouring rain and into the swimming pool room. Morris grabs your arm, swinging the two of you out of the way towards the bleachers.

"He's right behind us!" You shout. Morris grabs his bucket of marbles and dumps them on the floor just as Marten bursts through the door.

He hits the marbles, limbs flailing as he tumbles, head over heels into the pool. SPLASH!

His coat billows out and around him, looking like a dark churning mass of seaweed in the water.

"Do you see the gun?" Morris shouts. Jessica and you race to the poolside, scanning the choppy water.

"No!" You shout back. Marten surfaces, his eyes filled with rage. He points the gun at you. You duck to the side but it clicks impotently. He screams in frustration and throws it at you.

"Give it up, mate!" Morris calls out from the pool side. "Game over,"

Marten sheds the coat and kicks towards the other side of the pool. You glance up towards the balcony where you see two friendly figures moving into position.

He hauls himself out of the water, a dozen paces from you, Jessica and Morris. From his belt, he draws a short, ceremonial knife. You recognize it as the blade from his father's walking stick.

"Oh, I'm just beginning," he says menacingly. "Preobraziti!" he shouts.

His clothes shred as his limbs lengthen, hardening into twisted broken bark. His mouth seals shut as his hands twist and crack into sharpened claws. His chest splits open, tearing apart his shirt, revealing the green pulsating heart.

Jessica screams in terror as Morris steps in front of the two of you, clutching a fire extinguisher. You reach into your pocket, feeling the piece of rebar stolen from the Solarium.

CLICK CLICK CLICK HISSSS. The Leshy crawls forward, its long hands dragging on the floor, it's eyes filled with murderous intent.

"HEY! MARTEN!" Jules calls down from the balcony. "One more step and your sister is fucking dead!"

The creature turns to see Jules, holding Maribeth on the edge of the second floor, teetering above the hard concrete surrounding the pool.

It howls, a terrifying sound without a mouth, that echoes inside your skull. It leaps across the pool in a single bound, right below where Jules and Maribeth are standing.

Maribeth gives a nervous look at Jules but they keep up the act. You flip open your bag and distribute the aerosol containers to Jessica and Morris.

"I'll do it! I'll fucking do it!" Jules shouts, giving Maribeth a slight shove. She screams for good measure. The Leshy coils its legs underneath it and leaps, propelling itself up, up, up, and coming just shy of the ledge, its long claws scratching inches below the balcony bannister.

The creature crashes down below.

"GO! GO!" You shout. Morris and Jessica race forward and spray the creature with the most powerful weedkiller you could lay your hands on.

It screams, thrashing about wildly. Morris and Jessica grab ahold of his arms, pinning him down as best they can.

"Now's the time, love!" Morris shouts, struggling with the creature.

You push your way past the kicking legs and onto its chest.

"You want the truth, Marten? Your time is up!" and with one smooth thrust, you jam the rebar right into his glowing heart.

His eyes fly open with surprise as glowing bright white cracks appear all throughout his body. The cracks spread, infecting the floor, the pool, Morris and Jessica. The Leshy screams as the bark sheds off his body. You shield your eyes from the blinding light.

"NO! NOOOOOOO!" the creature cries in your head, and then all in a rush, the fractures knit back together, retracking back to his body which twists and cracks, reverting back to Marten.

His eyes are wide open in shock, his body completely still. He's dead.

"Is he gone?" Maribeth's scared voice calls out from above.

You look up and see Jules holding her steady.

"Yeah, he's gone."

###

Morris made himself scarce before the Mercer Island police arrived and it was another two hours of giving statements before you could go home. Cody was a sweetheart and took you back to his place where you took a quick shower and cuddled into the wee hours of the morning.

Nicole was kind enough to bring the two of you breakfast in the bed but you are pretty sure that was mainly to catch a peak at you topless. She was foiled by an oversized borrowed Cody t-shirt but you appreciated the attempt.

You spent most of Saturday calling and checking in with your friends. Crystal and Molly both made it safely out, although the mess left behind in the gym may have eaten a hole in the nice varnish on the basketball court. Jules drove Maribeth home and said that she was shaken but relieved. Mostly just dreading the return of her father today. Dylan thought the whole ordeal was the coolest thing he'd ever seen and was already making plans to commemorate it on the walls of the rail car.

Which just left Morris.

His phone message just had a time and the address for a discrete dock on the other side of the island.

He's there waiting for you on a small motor boat, with the engine already running.

"Hey love, nice night out isn't it?" he says, as you note the clear cold night sky.

"Always is after a storm," you say. "Where are you headed next?"

He grins, "Now, now, that would be telling, wouldn't it love?" He shakes his head.

"Don't worry, I won't get into too much trouble. I just read about a latino girl out near Moses Lake, looks like a gay bashing but the local bobbies aren't doing much about it. Might poke my head in there."

You look at him skeptically. "You are going to get to Moses Lake on a boat?" You ask.

"I'm a very talented sailor." He leans in and steals a kiss. His lips are soft but his arms hard, squeezing you tight.

"You behave now, little bird," as he uncoils the tether and hops onto his boat. He glances over your shoulder as you hear a car approach.

"When will I see you again?" you call out.

"Well, stay out of trouble, and maybe I'll be back from Prom," he says with a sly wink, steering the boat clear of the dock and out into the dark waters, the side of the ship clearly reading "Federal Bureau of Investigation".

You hear footsteps on gravel but you can't turn away as he sails off into the dark night.

"Damn it!" shouts the handsome Agent Olinger. "That's our boat!" He swears again.

"Did he tell you where he was going?" Agent Thompson materializes behind you, her slender suit fitting like a glove.

"Nope," you shake your head. "Not a word."

"Fuck," says Agent Olinger. "I'll call it in."

Agent Thompson sighs as the two of them make their way back to their car. You smile and look back at the glittering lights over the water as the whole space fades to black.

.

..

...

Blinking, you feel the metal skullcap attached to your forehead as Miranda pushes buttons over by the big machine in the dark room.

"Easy there, go slow." she reminds you as you sit up. "How'd it go?" she asks, offering you a cup of fruit juice.

"Good, really good." you say, downing the juice. Miranda carefully unlatches the watch and attaches it to her tablet. She looks at the readings and nods.

"Okay, I think we are good to go on our side, Mrs. Stevens," she says. You look around, your eyes adjusting to the dim medical room. Here. In the modern day. In the NextGen facility.

You breath slowly and shaky, trying to orient yourself while Miranda wipes down and tucks away the equipment.

"That was incredible," you say. Miranda blushes, grateful to change the subject.

"You are welcome! I was on the writing team, you know. Did you have a favorite character?"

"Oh, they all were so good. I really enjoyed my time with Jules, though." Miranda gives a warm laugh.

"Thank you! The hardest part was the dream sequences but once we solved the technical issues, it wasn't that different than creating any other sort of environment."

Her tablet beeps at her and she hits a button.

"Look at me, rambling on. Your ride is waiting for you, let's get you back to boring old reality." She leads you back to the elevator and to the lobby.

"Looking forward to seeing you soon!" She says as you walk out the doors.

Your mind was racing. The high school in the 90s felt so real. You could see their faces in front of her. Morris, Crystal, Jules, Maribeth, Tom. It was real - it felt real!

You glance back up at the NextGen building - a world inside a world. You shake your head. Back to reality indeed... until the next adventure!