Killer Moves (Horror High Series Book 3) Read online

  Killer Moves

  Horror High Series: Book Three

  By Carissa Ann Lynch

  Killer Moves

  Copyright © 2016 by Carissa Ann Lynch.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: November 2016

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-880-4

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-880-X

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To all of my loyal readers.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Epilogue

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  Prologue

  9 Months Earlier…

  Mariella

  I stared at the words—her words, a sloppy mixture of cursive and print. She’d written the note in a hurry—that much was obvious. But why? Why did I just get it now?

  I know we haven’t talked in forever. That fight last year…well, it pretty much destroyed our friendship. I know that. But this is a new school year…a new chance for us to be friends again. I need to tell you something important. You’re the only person I can trust. Dakota and Amanda are trying to kill me. Wait—before you laugh―I’m totally serious. They’ve been harassing me all summer long, writing creepy letters and making prank phone calls. They told me if I showed up at tryouts, they’d do what Ashleigh couldn’t—they would kill me. I know I always act big and bad, tough as shit. But truth is, I’m a little scared. At first I thought they were just trying to scare me, but then our family pet went missing…Chloe Darling, you remember? My sweet poodle I got in fifth grade? She turned up in my room a week later…dead. She smelled so bad…I don’t want to talk about it. Please, just please—if anything happens to me, make sure everyone knows who did it. Dakota and Amanda. Don’t let them get away with my murder. They need to be taught a lesson.

  Love ya,

  Genevieve

  With my rifle on one shoulder and my backpack on the other, I slipped out of the girls’ bathroom, gripping Genevieve’s crumpled note in my hand. Don’t worry, Genevieve. They’re not going to get away with this. With any of it.

  The ski mask was hot, itchy. I fought the urge to tear it off. I knew what class they had this period, and lucky for me, they had it together. In and out. I’ll get in, blow their heads off, and run out before anyone can stop me. No one will suspect it was me.

  I mumbled the words, “In and out,” creeping down the hallway silently. I was almost there—to Coach Davis’s Brit Lit class, when I passed the door to an open classroom. Science, or math maybe…I couldn’t remember. My brain was on auto-pilot.

  “Gun!” a girl in the front row screamed. Shut up! She’s going to blow my cover before the job is even done…

  Panicked, I lifted the barrel, flipped the safety, and blasted a hole straight through her chest. I never wanted to kill an innocent person.

  But there’s no turning back now…

  Another student tried to run out the door. I pulled the trigger again.

  Screams rang out all around me, but I turned toward my goal—Dakota and Amanda.

  “This is for you, Genevieve,” I whispered, blasting my way through the door to their classroom.

  Chapter One

  Sydney

  A shock of lightning ripped through the sky, rattling my bedroom windows and sending shockwaves up my neck and back. Please don’t let the power go out.

  My mom and dad were hanging out in Sydney. Not with me—their daughter Sydney—but in Sydney, Australia of all places. Managing portfolios for some big hotshot new client of theirs. Blah.

  I was pissed when they said they were leaving again. They’d already missed half of the school year, and they’d barely been home for a few days when they announced yet another business trip.

  “Can I go this time?” I’d asked them, batting my lashes and flashing my infamous smile. School had just let out for summer break; there was really no reason not to. But knowing them…they’d be too busy doing business to want to deal with a teen in tow.

  But my mom said yes, surprising me. She actually seemed excited about the idea. She took me to buy a new bikini and I spent the two days prior to our flight packing and re-packing my clothes.

  Maybe I’d meet some hot Aussie boy…or at the very least, get a sweet mocha tan. With my shiny black hair and pale porcelain skin, a tan was hard to accomplish in Indiana with all of these wet, sunless days. Especially when I spent most of my time in a classroom or gym.

  The night before we were supposed to leave, something awful but awesome happened.

  Coach Davis called. “Amanda is still traveling with her Grandma Mimi. She won’t be back till school starts in August…”

  Stunned, I’d stared at my perfectly tagged suitcase and carry-on bags. Everything was folded. Hell, I’d even folded my underwear for once…

  “Sydney, did you hear what I just said? I need you to fill in for Amanda…”

  My eyes glazed over, my traveling gear a blur. I was looking past my bags, staring at something else entirely. My cheer team photo—the one I kept on my dresser next to my late Grandma Rose’s picture—there we were, the Harrow Dragon cheerleaders, posing with our tongues out and pompoms raised. We’d just defeated the Tugglesworth Tigers…

  Only an alternate, I’d filled in for Amanda Loxx most of the season. She was traveling with her grandma, who was slowly dying of cancer. But s
he was supposed to be back for the Chattanooga competition…

  “Yes, of course I’ll take over her spot, Coach!” I squealed. The thought of joining the five other girls in Chattanooga, rocking it out on the stage and beating the other eighty-odd cheer teams, was something I’d fantasized about more than once in my life.

  “Good! Glad to hear it. We leave next week, Monday morning. Join us at practice tomorrow—eight o’clock. And yes, I mean morning…”

  So, that’s why I’m here now—the night before we leave for Tennessee. And I’m all alone in my house, my parents in Sydney, with a nasty storm cranking out sheets of rain and roaring thunder, rattling my nerves and putting me on edge.

  I should have been excited for the competition, but I’d never liked storms. Not as a kid, and not now. Especially after what I’d been through this year…

  Trees shook and an endless downpour pounded against the rooftop. My bedroom lights flickered. Please don’t go out, I pleaded with the electricity a second time.

  There was a binder of cheer chants sprawled across my lap. I’d been reviewing the steps and words to the cheers for nearly two hours now. What I really needed was to practice the full out routine, but today had been rainy, not making it easy to tumble on the mushy grass out back. And the whipping wind had me feeling like a big ball of nerves.

  Mariella Martin was dead. She’d been dead for months now, ever since the school shooting. She might have been the one with the gun, but she’s the one who wound up dead after my best friend Amanda shot her in self-defense.

  What bothered me—what bothered all of us on the squad—was the note police recovered from the scene. There was no mention of it until weeks later, and then Detective Simms was up my butt, questioning me and all of the girls, particularly Amanda and Dakota.

  The note was from Genevieve—a dead cheerleader. A murdered cheerleader, I corrected myself. Was it possible the person stalking us wasn’t Mariella after all? Had someone provoked her to come into school, guns blazing—literally?

  If the sociopath is still out there somewhere, I hope the answer stays a mystery. I can’t handle anymore trauma. Not this year. Not ever.

  I hope the truth died with Mariella, forever buried.

  I glanced at my phone on the night stand. We were leaving in the morning and all I wanted to do was call Dakota. If the lights went out, it wouldn’t be so scary as long as she was on the phone with me.

  Clicking on her name in my contact list, I held my breath while I waited for her to answer. But it rang and rang, until finally her voicemail picked up.

  “You know what to do, silly! Send me a text and I’ll hit ya back!” Dakota’s singsong recorded voice shouted.

  Sighing, I dropped the phone on the nightstand, standing up to stretch my legs. The house was so quiet with Mom and Dad gone, but I was used to that…so why was I feeling so nervous tonight?

  Deciding to distract myself with a homemade smoothie, I made my way downstairs just as a bolt of lightning punched the sky, a shock of white lightning flashing across the windows at the front of the house.

  I was four steps from reaching the bottom of the stairs when the lights flickered again, and then went completely out. I froze, hoping they’d pop back on.

  No such luck.

  Gripping the banister, I found my way to the end of the stairs. The house was so silent that the silence had its own sound—an eerie buzz that filled the room, joined with the sounds of my own labored breathing. I can’t deal with this right now.

  I stumbled through the dark, feeling my way in the general direction of the kitchen, careful not to bump into one of my mom’s vases or potted plants.

  I widened my eyes, willing them to adjust to the darkness. My hands found the door frame to the kitchen. There was a box of tea candles and a Bic lighter in one of the kitchen drawers. I had to get to it—and soon. I couldn’t handle the darkness.

  What if the power is out all night? I need to study my cheer binder and get ready to leave for Chattanooga!

  Reaching the kitchen island, I felt for the drawers and brushed my fingertips across each one of them until I met the one closest to our stove. That was our designated junk drawer, and where the candles were held.

  I opened it and blindly dug with my fingers, eventually brushing against the tiny round candles. Now all I need is the lighter…

  There was a loud popping noise from behind me. I dropped the pack of candles on the floor and yelped, whipping around toward the sound.

  Clutching the kitchen island with both hands, I stood there waiting, trying to catch my breath but also…listening. What in the heck was that sound? The sound of a bulb busting, maybe?

  It sounded so close, almost like it came from the foyer…

  It sounded like broken glass, I suddenly realized.

  Just when I was about to chalk it up to normal house creaks and my nerves, another bolt of lightning rocked the sky, followed by a loud boom of thunder.

  It was in that flash—a split second burst of light—that I saw the hooded figure in the dark. The intruder’s eyes were hard, angry. Determined. But it wasn’t his face that frightened me most. It was what was in his hands…

  The intruder was holding a knife.

  Chapter Two

  Winter

  “Don’t say I never did anything for you.” Jordan tossed my bags in the trunk of his Mazda, his eyes still swollen from sleep. It was six o’clock in the morning, still dark as night, and gloomy from last night’s rainfall.

  A ghostlike mist hovered above our street, threatening to swallow us whole. I shivered.

  I still don’t like this town.

  “Thank you for taking me, bro,” I muttered, walking around his sporty black car and plopping down in the passenger’s seat. He slammed the trunk, taking his spot on the driver’s side. He glanced at me, smiling despite his tiredness.

  “I can’t believe I’m up this early on a Saturday. And all for some stupid cheer competition. Tell me again—why couldn’t you just drive yourself?”

  “It’s not just some competition, Jordan! This is the one of the biggest in the country, and I’ve been practicing for this for weeks!” I glared at him, pissed he was being such a jerk about this now.

  “And I don’t want to leave my car in the school parking lot for days. You know how much I love my car, and if someone broke into it, I’d be devastated.”

  As much as I loved my brother, he could be a little self-absorbed sometimes…

  If this were a basketball tournament, he wouldn’t be acting this way. But because it was me and my sport, he couldn’t give a damn about it.

  “Is Amanda going to be there?” he nonchalantly asked, putting the car in gear and whipping away from the curb. I gripped what I liked to call the “oh shit handle,” bracing for another fear-inducing ride-along with my brother.

  We only lived a few blocks from school, but my brother always drove like he was auditioning for Fast and the Furious.

  “She might be there…” I said, trying to sound mysterious. I looked out the window, holding back a smile at my brother’s interest in Amanda. He’d pretty much screwed her over last year, which was typical behavior for Jordan. Especially when it came to girls. Amanda really liked him and he led her on, all the while he had a girlfriend.

  And speaking of girlfriends…

  “Lauren will be there. Your girlfriend, remember?” Lauren and Jordan had been dating off and on for years now. I still don’t know what she sees in my brother…

  “Hmmm. Yeah, me and some of the guys might come watch. Or at least hang out with you girls tonight,” he said, pulling onto Utica Street. The road was empty and free of motorists.

  “What you really mean is that you guys want to come party with a bunch of cheerleaders from all over the country…the answer is no, Jordan! We need to practice for Sunday’s routine. We don’t have time for you jerk-offs or any other type of distraction.”

  He mumbled something that sounded like, “We’ll see about th
at,” and flipped his signal on as we approached our turn.

  He pulled into the parking lot of my school—Harrow High. Or Horror High, as it was often called…

  “This place is dead,” he remarked, parking in a spot and cutting the engine. The lot was deserted and it was pitch black because none of the outlying street lamps seemed to be working. Not to mention, all that damn fog.

  “Does the sun ever shine in this town?” I asked, rolling down my window to clear some of the condensation.

  “Winter!” a voice boomed, causing me to jerk in my seat. I twisted around, catching a glimpse of Ashleigh Westerfield in the dark.

  “H-hey, Ashleigh,” I stammered, looking around for her car. “Did you drive here?” I asked, rolling the passenger side window the rest of the way down.

  “Nope! I walked!” she said, grinning from ear to ear. I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, but I didn’t see any cars around in the lot…and I noticed she was wearing her cheerleading uniform.

  Did she ever take that thing off?

  “You do know we’re not competing until tomorrow, right?” I pointed at her skirt with a sheepish smile.

  She was leaning against the car now, crouched down to see me better.

  “Yep! I know! I just wanted to show my team spirit,” she said giddily.

  Speaking of the rest of the team, a red Cavalier came barreling through the thick, low fog, screeching to a halt beside us.

  A song by She Wants Revenge was blaring from its speakers. When the driver looked over and saw me, she turned the volume up.

  I rolled my eyes at Dakota Densford, our designated team captain this year.

  The girl dislikes me—not a little bit, but a lot. In fact, she hates my guts, and that’s putting it lightly.

  Ashleigh walked over and stood at Dakota’s window expectantly, so she had no choice but to turn the music down and get out. She wouldn’t even look in my direction.