Two months. Two months. She repeated the words like a litany in her head. In two months, she'd be out of here. Kylie fol owed Blond Boy to an empty table in the back. And when she got there, she realized al her bus companions had hung together. Not that she felt as if she belonged with them, she hadn't even had eye contact with some of them, but face it, a known freak was better than an unknown one.
Suddenly, Kylie started feeling people turn and look at her. Or were they looking at al of them? The new kids were on display. The crowd's gazes became a col age of cold stares with different-colored eyes, but similar expressions and a lot of eyebrow twitching. Weirded out to the max, she looked at Derek, then Miranda and even Pale Girl and Blond Boy, and damn it if they were doing it, too. The eyebrow thing. It wasn't cartoonish, and not as noticeable as Sara's whole rol your eyes and pucker your brows kind of thing, but just a little twitch. Like Derek had done back at the convenience store.
What was it with the eyebrows?
Looking back into the crowd, fighting the urge to look down at her shoes, she forced herself to hold their gazes. Face it, she didn't want to be the chicken of the bunch. The one everyone picked on. And if that made her like Sara, so be it.
"Looks as if we are al here," a female voice said from the front.
Kylie tried to find the face behind the voice, but her gaze clashed with another stare-a cold, bright blue-eyed stare that somehow stood out from the rest. Pul ing her attention away from just the eyes, Kylie noticed the boy's jet-black hair. And just like that, she remembered. She remembered him.
She remembered ... her cat.
"It can't be," she muttered under her breath.
"What can't be?" Derek asked.
"Nothing." Kylie forced her gaze to the front where the woman spoke in a singsong type of voice.
"Welcome to Shadow Fal s Camp. We are..."
The woman, probably mid-twenties, had long red hair that hung almost to her waist. She wore jeans and a bright yel ow T-shirt. Standing beside her was another woman about the same age, but good God, she wore goth. Al black, even her eyes appeared black. Somebody real y needed to subscribe to a fashion magazine or two.
Kylie looked over at Goth Girl who'd been on her bus. The girl stared at the woman with a sense of admiration.
"My name is Holiday Brandon and this is Sky Peacemaker."
Right then the cabin door opened and a couple of men walked in. They looked like lawyers, or some other serious type of profession that demanded they wear matching black suits.
Kylie watched the two women up front shift their gazes to the visitors and frown. She got the feeling the two men weren't expected. That they were even unwelcome.
Sky, the goth leader, walked over and led the men outside and Holiday continued. "Okay," the singsong voice said. "First we're breaking down into newbies and returnees. Everyone who has been here before wil move outside. You'l find some helpers out there with your schedules and cabin assignments. As always, the rules of this place are posted in your cabins. We expect you to read them. And let me make something clear right now, we're not going to rearrange cabin assignments. You are here to get along, and get along you wil . If a serious problem arises, bring it to the attention of either myself or Sky and we'l discuss it, but not until after twenty-four hours. Any questions?"
Someone in the front raised a hand. "Yeah," the female voice echoed in the room. "I have a question."
Kylie leaned to the right to see the girl. The girl, another goth-dressed individual, turned around. "It doesn't have anything to do with the rules, but ... I want to know, who the hel is she?"
The girl pointed-pointed right at the table where Kylie stood. Or was she pointing right at Kylie? No, she couldn't be. Oh, damn. She was. She was pointing at Kylie. "Crap," she muttered when about sixty pair of eyes al turned and focused directly on her.
Chapter Six
"Relax," Derek said in a voice so low she was certain no one else heard it. And she could barely hear him thanks to the thumping of her own heart.
"Introductions wil happen over lunch," a female voice said. Kylie thought it was Holiday again, but she couldn't be sure. They al continued to stare. Stare at her. Her mind raced and her heart pounded. Gushing sounds echoed in her ears. Tearing her gaze away, she eyed the door and fought the urge to run. Run fast and run hard. But face it, she'd never been a good runner, and too many freaks stood between her and the door. Then, oddly, she remembered something she'd learned about wild animals. If you run, they think you're dinner and wil chase you.
Oh, double crap. Okay, deep breath. Then another one. Her lungs expanded. These weren't wild animals, just weird-ass teenagers. Right then, Kylie's phone beeped with another incoming text. Probably Sara. Kylie ignored it. And for the first time, Kylie decided she possibly could have been wrong about Sara's situation being more difficult than her own. She wasn't a hundred percent certain of that, but something deep in her gut said this wasn't just about her going to Mark Jameson's party.
But what else could it be about?
And why? Why of al the freaks in the room had she been singled out? Was it because she didn't twitch her eyebrows? Oh, she could twitch her brows as good as the next person. And darn if she wouldn't be practicing that as soon as she got alone. Problem was, she just didn't understand the whole twitching thing. Was it the Shadow Fal s Camp version of a secret handshake?
"Come on. Let's get things moving," the singsong voice said again. "Returnees, outside. Newbies, hang right here."
Kylie experienced the tiniest bit of relief when the crowd stopped staring and started shuffling around, reaching for purses and backpacks. Or at least most of them stopped staring. Kylie looked over to the right and saw the black-haired boy with bright blue eyes standing there, his gaze locked on her. Lucas Parker. She recal ed his name, even though it had been a long time since she'd seen him. I'm glad they left, she recal ed her dad saying. Take my word on it, that kid is going to grow up to be a serial killer. Kylie felt a fist wrap around her heart and squeeze. Was she real y at a camp with a possible serial kil er?
Could it real y be him? Of course, she could be wrong. It had been, gosh, over ten years. Chil s tiptoed up her spine, and then he turned and moved into the flow of other returnees out the door.
Kylie saw Miranda take a few steps. She stopped in front of Kylie and said, "Good luck." Kylie couldn't tel if the girl was being a smartass or serious, so she just nodded.