By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) (2 page)

I glanced at the scoreboard. We were down by
eleven points. "Yeah, it's great."

Kim beamed. "I love football."

A small smile touched my lips as I regarded
her through lowered lashes. She wasn't unattractive per se, but she
wasn't pretty either. Her standout feature was her auburn hair. It
was similar in color and length to mine, and Jenna liked to tease
me about it, saying Kim and I were twins separated at birth. It had
to be her favorite joke of all time.

What really stood out about Kim, though, was
her general niceness. We hadn't been close for years, but it didn't
seem to matter to her. No amount of teasing from Jenna or my other
friends ever deterred her. She was the same old Kim. Nice.
Friendly. Even with all that had happened between us.

The girl beside Kim was another story. I
chanced a quick peek at my watch—anything to keep from looking at
the petite brunette. I could feel Melanie's eyes on me, though, and
they weren't exactly friendly. While Kim let things slide, Melanie
clearly hadn't forgiven me for our broken friendship.

I fidgeted nervously, glancing to the head of
the line to see what was holding up the show.

"We aren't keeping you, are we?" Melanie
asked.

"Not at all," I said, hoping I didn't appear
as panicked as I felt.

"Don't tell me you're all alone," Melanie
laughed. "I didn't think your friends let you do anything by
yourself."

It was a direct hit, and she knew it. I
swallowed, relieved when I saw another window open. "Enjoy the rest
of the game."

I muttered a hasty goodbye and cut over to
the next line.

"I wish you wouldn't do that to her," I heard
Kim say.

Their conversation continued in heated tones,
but I couldn't make out Melanie's response. Just as well. I wasn't
sure I wanted to know what she had to say about me.

No longer thirsty, I dumped my drink and
headed away from the football field. Once outside the perimeter
fence, I placed another call to Ty. His voicemail picked up again.
I clapped my phone closed without leaving a second message and
trudged my way up the grassy hill leading to the main school
building. The voice over the loudspeakers faded to an indistinct
hum, an occasional surge of applause splicing through the steady
drone of the marching band.

Eddington High School was one of the oldest
schools in the state, spanning several acres, and there weren't
many lights along the path. Luckily, the moon was more than enough
to light the way.

I entered through a door on the west side.
The building was blessedly silent, and the stall door in the
restroom sounded like a gunshot blast when I slammed it closed. I
laughed to myself nervously, quickly finishing and then washing my
hands. My hair had seen better days. Frizzing auburn tendrils stuck
to my sweaty forehead, and I splashed cool water on my cheeks.

When I reached for some paper towels to dry
my hands, the lights went out.

"Shit."

I clutched the porcelain sink before me,
waiting for my eyes to adjust. Dim light filtered in through the
windows, but just enough to create eerie shadows in the mirror. A
faint, ghost-like creature took shape in the reflection. A small
squeak escaped my lips before I realized it was me.

"Get a grip," I whispered with a laugh,
watching my pale arms move in the reflection.

I waited for what seemed like forever, but
the power didn't blink back on. The light was coming from
somewhere, though, which meant the field lights were still working.
Either I could brave the dark building or wait until morning. Easy
choice.

I groped my way back out into the hallway,
moving slowly and trailing my fingertips along the wall for
guidance. My footsteps echoed against the tile and seemed to
ricochet off the metal lockers lining the corridor. Faint light
peeked through the open doorways leading to the classrooms, and I
used the intermittent patches to help feel my way through the
school.

In the gloom, the place no longer seemed as
peaceful. In fact, it was downright freaky. Especially the open
doorways I passed. In horror movies, that's where the killer always
lurked.

Happy thoughts.

Just as I rounded a turn in the hallway, I
heard someone keeping pace behind me.

I stopped, relieved to have another person
stuck in the building with me.

"Hey. Do you know what happened to the
lights?" My voice came out extremely loud in the still building.
The footsteps stopped.

I squinted, tried to make out any movements.
All I saw was inky blackness, but it felt like someone stood just
outside of my periphery. "Hello?"

Nothing. I slid my fingers along the cool
surface of the lockers lining the wall and peeked back around the
corner. The corridor was empty—at least as far as I could tell.

Had I imagined the footsteps?

After a moment of listening to the heavy
silence, I continued walking, only to have the sounds resume. Light
footsteps, not far behind me.

"Who's there?"

Again, no response came to me from the
darkness. I studied it, intent on picking out some telltale sign of
whoever was there. Then I heard it. A soft, whisper of a breath.
Close.

"Who's there?" I asked again.

My only answer was the soft breathing. A
shiver inched its way across my skin, and I retreated backwards.
"This isn't funny."

A loud bang came from the right, followed
swiftly by one on the left. It sounded as though someone was
driving a sledgehammer into the metal lockers. Right. Left. Right.
Left. Each hit harder than the last.

I turned and fled down the hallway. The
sounds followed me, but were soon replaced by the light sound of
pattering feet.

Something brushed my hair. Once, twice,
lightly—then roughly as something snagged in the curls. I gasped as
several hairs were yanked out by the root.

Pain prickled across my scalp, and I whipped
around.

A dark shadow separated itself from the
others, somehow blacker than the rest of the passageway. I tried to
track its progress, but it seemed to flicker in and out of
focus.

Then it lurched at me.

I cowered down, bracing for an attack.

Nothing happened.

Gasping, I lowered my arms and blinked into
the darkness. Everything was still and silent. Somehow that
frightened me even more.

I dashed toward the nearest exit only to hear
the presence again—ahead of me this time. The hallways ran a square
loop through the school, but it wasn't possible for anyone to
travel them that quickly.

Panic rippled through me. There was more than
one of them.

I started backing toward one of the open
classrooms just as a brief play of light flashed on the opposite
wall, followed closely by a burst of laughter. Several girls
entered the building through the side door I had come through
earlier.

"Hey, what happened to the lights?" an
unknown girl said.

"Seriously, this damn school is falling
apart. What, they're too cheap to pay bills?"

I recognized Jenna's throaty voice and rushed
toward them.

"Get out! There's something—"

The lights blinked back on.

"Mac? What the hell are you doing?" Jenna
said, an amused smile playing on her lips. Several of the other
cheerleaders stood with her, most of them wearing similar
expressions.

I scanned the hallways, but we were alone.
"I—I came inside to use the bathroom." My voice sounded feeble as I
searched the corridors for any sign of who—or
what
—had
attacked me.

Jenna laughed. "God, don't tell me you got
scared in the dark."

"No, I..." In the distance, I heard the
unmistakable sound of someone pushing an exit bar on one of the
doors leading outside. I started toward the sound, realizing a beat
later that Jenna was still talking to me.

"Earth to Mac!" She laughed when I focused
back on her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I shook my head, convinced I must be crazy.
If it weren't for my throbbing scalp, I might have actually
believed it true. But no,
someone
had been there. One look
at Jenna's expression stopped me from blurting out everything.

"Nothing." I laughed, a slight tremor in the
sound. "I just got a little freaked when the lights went out."

She rolled her eyes and gave her squad
members a knowing look. "Come on, little girl. We'll protect
you."

We went to the restroom so they could freshen
up. The group chatted incessantly, oblivious to my discomfort.
Afterward, we made our way back to the game.

I stuck very close to the girls, unease
settling in a thick knot between my shoulder blades. It felt as
though someone or
something
was watching, angry and
dissatisfied, and waiting for an opportunity to strike again.

David slammed his car door and followed me up
the walk to Ty's house.

"This is a joke," he said. "The guy blew off
the game. That doesn't mean you need to check up on him."

"Just come on," I said. The game had ended
less than an hour ago, and he wasn't happy I wanted to call it an
early evening. For once, I insisted.

Ty's house was steeped in shadows, but his
car sat parked in the driveway. The burnt orange '68 Cutlass
Supreme was his pride and joy. I knew he wouldn't leave it behind.
As he liked to say, he'd spent too much time rebuilding the thing
to let it out of his sight.

I pounded on the front door, but heard no
response from within.

Considering my options for a split second, I
grabbed the spare key from the fake rock in the flowerbed. He could
be sick, and I knew his parents weren't home. Ty's dad was out of
town on a business trip and his mother worked the night shift.
They'd understand—maybe even appreciate me checking up on their
son.

David stood at the end of the porch, hands
tucked in his pockets as he examined the interior of Ty's car in
the moonlight. He backed away when he saw me watching.

"You're not going to break in," he said.

"Can't call it breaking in when you have a
key," I said, dangling the key ring from my finger.

I knew Ty's house as well as my own and
quickly weaved my way through the dark interior and up the stairs.
David trailed behind me. A loud thud followed by a great deal of
swearing marked his progress across the living room. He would be
lucky not to break anything.

I didn't feel right about bringing him
inside, but being alone at this point wasn't an attractive
alternative. Every time I stopped to think about my encounter with
the mysterious presence at school, I started to shake. Drunk or
not, David provided some measure of protection.

Ty's bedroom door stood slightly ajar, and I
poked my head inside. Everything seemed in order—as far as a
teenage boy's room goes. His bed was unmade, and piles of clothing
lay in small heaps on the floor.

"Ty?" My voice sounded eerie in the quiet
house, and the darkness seemed to swallow it whole.

"Anyone home?" David looked into the rooms
lining the hallway. "What a dump."

I flicked on Ty's light and blinked as my
eyes adjusted. Downstairs, their Grandfather clock struck eleven.
The sound was ominous. Where was he?

"So this is the great Ty's room." David
wandered around and stopped at the window. He squinted into the
night.

"What are you doing?"

"Just checking the view."

He'd never admit it out loud, but I figured
his curiosity stemmed from the fact my house was across the way. I
knew my bedroom window would be just visible through a break in the
trees. As kids, the line of sight had served a useful purpose,
allowing Ty and me to pass signals to one another with our
flashlights. As teenagers, it proved to be a nuisance, our friends
always wishing to spy on the other. I'd spent many nights with a
group of giggling girls who wanted nothing more than to catch Ty
walking around in his skivvies—or less. It had taught me to keep my
own shades drawn while changing.

"You don't ever watch him, do you?" David
turned to me, suspicion in his eyes.

"Don't be stupid." Even as I spoke the words,
warmth spread across my cheeks. I made myself look busy by
scrawling a note on a pad from Ty's cluttered desk and propping it
on a pillow. My message was simple—"Call me. Mac."

David laughed softly, no real humor in the
sound. "Look what we have here."

"What?" Hoping my skin had returned to
normal, I turned to face him.

He pulled a photo from its spot on a bulletin
board on the far wall. "Isn't this cute?" He raised an eyebrow, a
slight challenge in his voice.

I snatched it from his hands. "I didn't bring
you so you could snoop through his room." I tucked the picture back
in place. It was of Ty and me. Both of us were grinning like
complete idiots after tromping the opposing team in a baseball game
the previous summer. He had his arm around my shoulders, and the
moment was so vivid in my mind that I could practically feel the
warm sun on my face and hear his deep laughter. I smiled, a
complete contradiction to my mood.

I felt David studying me, but refused to get
drawn into another argument. "We should go," I said.

"What's the hurry? Looks like we have the
house to ourselves." He grasped my hips and pulled me in close. His
teeth grazed my neck.

Framed in the open window, I dreaded the
image we created. He couldn't have picked a worse time as far as I
was concerned. And in Ty's bedroom no less.

I pushed him away. "I have a headache."I
almost groaned out loud. Who would think a seventeen-year old
virgin would use such an excuse?

"Yeah? Wonder how long that would last if he
were here."

Oh brother
. "Don't be dumb. We're just
friends."