Home > Death, and the Girl He Loves (Darklight #3)(13)

Death, and the Girl He Loves (Darklight #3)(13)
Author: Darynda Jones

I didn’t want to call a cab from the school. It would look bad having one pull up in the middle of the night after curfew. I was certain the headmaster would be called. So, I packed up what I could, left Crystal my favorite pillow and a bracelet I’d bought on the trip over. It had the shape of New Mexico on it.

“Why New Mexico?” she asked, and I realized my mistake too late. I was supposed to be from Arizona.

After throwing my bag over my shoulder, grabbing my purse and phone, and stuffing the death threat into my pocket, I stood before her and said, “My name is really Lorelei McAlister. I’m from New Mexico, not Arizona. The rest I’ll have to explain to you once I’m away, once you’re safe.”

“Are you in the Witness Protection Program?” she asked, her lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

“Yes,” I said, lying like a dehydrated dog in July. “Yes, I am.”

She swore not to tell anyone. Ever. As long as she lived.

I put my hand on her arm. “Thank you. My family’s lives depend on it.”

I was going to hell.

* * *

I hefted my canvas bag with all my worldly possessions onto my hip. The strap was already cutting into my shoulder and I hadn’t even gotten past the campus grounds yet. The darkness left all kinds of shadows hovering around me, thick and menacing. Anyone could be waiting in them. Anyone could ambush me without a moment’s notice. I suddenly realized how utterly stupid my plan was. I should’ve called a cab regardless. What would the headmaster do? There was nothing he could do. It wasn’t like they had my real name. Once I left the school grounds, how would they find me?

There was a twenty-four-hour café down the street. I just had to get past the guard posted at the entrance; then I could wait in there for the cab. And have some coffee to warm up.

At least one part of my plan made sense. I would be gone before Wade the psychotic stick boy, according to his own drawing, figured it out. He wouldn’t have a chance to kill me. I stopped as another thought surfaced. Would he retaliate? Would he go after Crystal? The headmaster? His parents?

I should have warned her, I thought as I shivered in the cold. It bit into my bones, clamping on, locking its jaws like a pit bull the moment I stepped out into the frigid night air. A thick fog circled around me, the haze creating a halo effect that I could see only in the low light of the lamps that lit the pathways from the academic buildings to the dorms, through the maintenance buildings, and across to the guardhouse.

That would be the real trick, getting past that house.

The aloneness I suddenly felt weighed heavily. I wrapped my fingers tighter around the strap of my bag, and it occurred to me that I’d never lifted a knife from the kitchen. I had nothing with which to defend myself should it come to that. What if Wade was watching? What if he stabbed me before I even saw him coming? Then again, maybe he had other plans. The picture he’d drawn showed a knife, but he could have anything. A gun. An axe. A hammer.

I quickened my footsteps. Every dark machination I could think of came to mind. My plan, if one could even call it that, seemed less and less favorable by the second. I would have to pass through some pretty dark nooks and crannies to get off grounds, but Wade hadn’t come after me yet. Surely he didn’t suspect I’d do something like this.

The gates to the grounds loomed near, as did the guardhouse. Thirty feet ahead. On one hand, I had to somehow sneak past it. On the other, if Wade came after me now, I could call out to the guard.

Twenty feet.

I thought about the fact that I would soon be on a plane headed home. The feeling gave me that extra push I needed to plod onward. I could do this.

Ten feet.

I patted my jacket pocket, where I’d stashed my money. It would be enough for a ticket. It had to be. I didn’t have time to take a bus. I needed to get back fast. The world was about to end.

I began to tiptoe as I got closer to the guardhouse. The gate beyond it was closed, but I was not above climbing over the fence and hurling my body into the darkness on the other side. With infinite care, I inched up to the lit guardhouse and peeked in. No one was in it. All that worry for nothing.

The night guard was probably making rounds or something. I had no idea, really, but it sounded logical that part of his job would be to make rounds. With fate smiling upon me, I hurried to the shadows of the fence beside the gate. I could never have climbed up the gate itself. It was a massive iron thing with long, menacing bars. Much like a jail cell. There was nothing to grab on to, and the tops of the bars were sharp and pointy. I would impale myself if I even attempted it. They would find my lifeless body the next morning, dangling from a spike.

Why I had to think such things at a time like this was beyond me. Crystal told me she’d heard about kids climbing over the fence using the hinges for leverage. I tried to throw my bag over first, but I couldn’t quite get the distance I needed. That fence was at least fifteen feet high. I managed about three. Possibly four. And it hurt when it came back down. So I threw it back over my shoulder and proceeded to climb. Or, I thought about climbing until I heard a snicker in the dark beside me.

My foot slipped and I almost fell before I turned around and saw a male figure standing off to the side, his silhouette actually a little lighter than the shadow he was in. This was not happening. Surely Wade didn’t follow me. But when the boy slid from the shadows, I realized that trying to outrun fate was a lot harder than it sounded.

Wade did indeed stand before me, his arms crossed over his chest, a smug grin tainting his face. He was suddenly ugly. I didn’t remember him being ugly before, but he seemed that way to me now.

   
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