“Wrynn –” I start.
“You need to be lookin’ over dat way.” She licks CheeWee dust off her index finger and points. “Not way out here.”
I follow Wrynn’s finger with my eyes. The boardwalk glimmers bright white, like the sun-bleached ribs of a snake stretched out along the river.
“Elora was on the boardwalk that night?”
“Yep. Dat’s where he kilt her at.” I see the tiny red hairs standing straight up on her pale arms. “And you best watch out, Grey, or he’ll get you, too.”
She reaches into the pocket of her shorts and brings out a handful of little objects. “Take ’em,” Wrynn tells me, and I hold out my hand. Polished pennies. Pop tops. Bottle caps. Paper clips. It’s an odd little collection.
“Scatter ’em on your windowsill,” she explains. “For protection. Dat rougarou, he’ll have to stop and count ’em, see? Cain’t help hisself. And he ain’t too bright. Cain’t count no higher than twelve, dey say. So every time he comes to thirteen, he gets all confused. Has to start over. He’ll stand dere stuck. Countin’ all night long. And then when daylight comes up, he’ll have to hightail it home.”
“Little Bird!” Case’s voice makes us both jump. “Time to be gittin’ on in.” He’s standing not five feet away. I wonder how long he’s been there. And where he came from. “Dark’s comin’ on soon.”
Wrynn gives me one last look – like she has more she wants to say – but I expect she knows better than to argue with Case, so she turns and takes off toward home.
Case stands there staring at me for a few seconds, then he takes a step in my direction. “You scared of me?” he asks, and I shake my head. Case smirks, then he turns his head to spit into the grass before he starts off after Wrynn in the direction of their house. “You git on inside now, chere,” he calls back over one shoulder. “It ain’t safe out here come nightfall.”
I shove Wrynn’s little collection into my pocket. The sun is sinking toward the river, and the mosquitoes are eating me alive. Case isn’t wrong. I need to head home.
But suddenly, one of those flashes hits me hard. Elora’s fear jams my frequencies, and my brain starts to short-circuit. I close my eyes tight, but that doesn’t stop me seeing what she saw.
Or feeling what she felt.
I stumble again when I hit the water, but I don’t go down. Li’l Pass isn’t so little any more. There’s no jumping it now. The water is up to my knees, and I fight the current to stay on my feet.
I see the bounce of his flashlight beam, and I hear him yelling my name again. Over the wind and the rain and the rushing water. And I’m not completely sure if I’m hearing him outside my head. Or inside.
And that’s it.
I try to hang on to that little bit of Elora, like reaching for her hand, but she’s already gone again.
My eyes fly open, and I suck in air so hard I choke.
Then I freeze.
I feel it. The air has changed. It’s electric. It pulses and dances around me.
I’m not alone. Someone is watching me from behind one of those skinny trees. A glint of light-colored hair and a flash of movement. That’s all I catch.
“Evie? Is that you?”
There’s no answer, and every muscle in my body tenses. I wait, but there’s nothing. A breeze whispers through the long grass. The blades bend and sway and murmur to be careful.
I slip off the clothes dryer, and when my feet hit the ground, my legs feel like Jell-O. I take a cautious step toward the trees.
“Evie?”
Nothing.
“Quit playing around, Evie.”
I glance over my shoulder toward the boardwalk. How long would it take me to run that distance? If I needed to.
If I had to.
Something moves behind the trees again.
“Who’s there?”
Shit.
This is all wrong.
I start to back away, but my foot ends up in a muskrat hole and I go down hard on my backside.
And that’s when he steps out from the shadows. He must have been there the whole time. Watching me.
I hold my breath and brace for something terrible.
Fangs and claws. Or worse.
But he’s not a monster. Or at least he doesn’t look like one. He’s ordinary. About my age. Tall and slender. Faded jeans and an old green T-shirt. No shoes. Blond hair the color of dirty sunshine. It hangs down in the front, hiding his face.
And I don’t recognize him.
Not until he lifts his chin and tosses that hair out of his eyes.