Carnival of Dead Girls Page 9

  Chapter

  Twenty-Five

  At the end of the night, I followed Evan back to his trailer. His mom and dad were already there waiting for their son. I nervously wrung my hands as he introduced me. I’d seen Joseph around the carnival plenty, but his mom didn’t look familiar.

  “I’m Anita,” she said, shaking my hand cordially. She seemed like a jovial lady, soft spoken and kind. Joseph narrowed his eyes at me, but said nothing.

  I thought they might object to me staying the night, which would totally mess up my plans, but they seemed perfectly okay with the arrangement. Unlike Lucy’s trailer, Evan’s trailer had two bedrooms.

  I was a little surprised when Evan led me to his room. No way would my dad or Candy let a boy sleep all night in my room. But then Anita called after us, “No hankie pankie, you two! Use your pull-out cot, Evan.”

  Evan’s room looked like a perfectly normal bedroom for a teenage boy. I’d caught a peek of it through his window last night, but it’d been too dark to see much. Childish posters, an unmade bed, and a crumpled stack of pants and t-shirts he’d yet to put away decorated the room. I perched on the side of his bed, sighing.

  Two hours later, after showing me his entire collection of baseball cards and comic books. I was bored to tears. But I played the role of dutiful friend flawlessly, asking questions and smiling, all the while irritated on the inside.

  After cards and books was movies. Midway through the second film, Evan finally fell asleep on his twin-sized cot. The silence in the trailer was deafening. Although this is what I’d been waiting for, I felt frightened.

  Looking over at Evan again, I wanted to be totally sure he was, in fact, sound asleep. I waited nearly an hour before I slowly pushed the covers aside, standing up as quietly as possible. The floorboards slightly creaked, but not enough to wake anyone up—or so I hoped.

  I decided that my first course of action would be a trip to the bathroom down the hall, that way I could scope out the house and make sure Joseph and Anita were actually asleep.

  Tip-toeing out of Evan’s bedroom and through the hallway slowly, I soundlessly slipped into the bathroom. Beyond the bathroom was the kitchen and living room space, and beyond those spaces, Joseph and Anita’s bedroom in the back.

  I closed the bathroom door and sat on the toilet, taking in several deep breaths. I ran my fingers through my hair nervously. If they wake up, all I have to do is say I was thirsty and looking for a glass of water when I wandered into the wrong room.

  I crept back out of the bathroom and made my way to the kitchen. There was a dull light shining over the kitchen sink, illuminating the entire space. My eyes were immediately drawn to a key rack nailed to the side of the kitchen cabinets. I scanned the rows of keys for the silver skeleton key Rachel had described in detail, my heart rate quickening.

  Nothing. A few of them were obviously car or house keys, but nothing like she’d described.

  Finally working up the nerve to move forward, I tip-toed across the living room. There was a short hallway leading to the master bedroom, and from there I could see the bedroom door was wide open.

  I pressed my back against the wall in the hallway. I took a breath then edged my way closer to their door, all the while trying not to make a sound. If I got caught now, there wasn’t a whole lot of excuses for sneaking around outside their bedroom.

  It was now or never. I did a mental three-count then dropped to the floor, army-crawling my way through the door of the bedroom. And then I heard something move.

  I froze, my heart literally stopped beating inside my chest. Someone was rustling around in the bed…

  But then as I listened, I heard the pair snoring. They must have just been moving around a bit in their sleep, I tried to reassure myself.

  I kept moving, using my elbows to guide me along the threadbare carpet.

  As I got closer, I stole a glance up at the bed. Joseph was sleeping on the side nearest me. Thank God for small miracles, I thought breathlessly. Now I just had to hold out hope that the man didn’t wear his jeans to bed, or hide the key elsewhere before going to sleep.

  I knew that if he was anything like my dad, he’d just take off his jeans and leave them lying on the floor by the bed.

  Jackpot! Miraculously, a faded pair of blue jeans and a button-up shirt were lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. I crawled over to them as quickly and quietly as possible. Pausing, I listened for any sounds that might indicate one of them was waking up.

  All was quiet. I slid my hand into the right side pocket of the jeans. Nothing.

  I fought back the urge to scream obscenities. Saying a silent prayer, I pulled the jeans closer, slipping my hand inside the other pocket.

  My fingertips were rewarded by a small, cold, metal object. I had it!

  I held the key tightly in my palm, enjoying the feel of its shiny greatness, and then crawled back out the same way I came in. Hurriedly, I stumbled my way toward the front door and opened it as quietly as possible.

  As soon as the crisp October air met my face, I pushed the door closed and took off running, away from Evan’s trailer. The key felt great in my palm, like my first real victory since arriving in Flocksdale.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Six

  Rachel looked beautiful as she slept. So beautiful, in fact, it nearly pained me to wake her up. I leaned down slowly over her curled up body, gently nudging until her eyes popped open. As soon as she saw it was me, she jumped up expectantly, eager to hear what had happened.

  Before she could ask, I said, “I got the key.”

  “Yay!” I shushed her, afraid of waking up her mom, who was just a room away. Rachel stood up, quickly stripping out of her pajama bottoms and looking around for her jeans.

  I reached over to pick them up off of the floor and hand them to her. The sight of her short, tan legs and curvaceous bottom left me grasping for words. I instantly turned around, waiting for her to finish dressing in private. “I don’t think we should go now,” I said.

  “Why not?” She furrowed her eyebrows quizzically, turning me around to face her.

  “Listen. I want to go now too. But take a look outside your window. The sun will be up in about an hour and everyone will be waking up and heading to work at the carnival,” I explained.

  “Well, then we don’t have much time to spare…Let’s go!” she hissed, tugging on my sleeve.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Seven

  As soon as we stepped outside, I had to fight the urge to run back in. This seemed way too risky.

  The House of Horrors sat still in the distance, mocking us.

  Rachel slipped her hand in mine. Slowly and silently, we wound our way through the scattering of trailers. It was nearly five o’clock in the morning, the carnival grounds as quiet as a graveyard. The carnival at night was creepy, with its statuesque rides and abandoned game booths.

  Thankful to be out of sight of the workers’ trailers, we cautiously slipped inside the freak show tent. Rachel pulled out a small flashlight from her pocket and used it to illuminate the area inside the tent.

  Shining the light from side to side, I saw that we were—thank God—alone.

  “This way,” I said, heading straight for the novelty shack in the back. The man who usually worked the shop was gone for once, and the creepy displays were covered with plastic tarps.

  Nervously, I pulled the key out from my pocket and paused next to Rachel in the doorway. “You ready?” I asked in a whispery voice.

  She answered by leaning over to kiss my cheek. She nodded. It was time to see what Flocksdale’s Carnival—or whatever they called it, considering they changed the name so much—was hiding. I slipped the delicate key into the hole, opening the door to the secret back room.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Eight

  Rachel shined the light inside, illuminating the inside of a massive barn. My mouth fell open in shock.

  I don’t know what I was expecting to find. Freya’s d
ead body? Chopped up animal parts? Thankfully, this wasn’t as bad…but this was pretty fucking bad.

  There were dozens of metal slab tables, covered with cleaning products, beakers, soda bottles, and coffee filters. I counted five or six metal cauldrons as tall as the tables they stood beside.

  An overpowering smell of ammonia filled the air, mixed with a half dozen other chemicals.

  “What the hell is this?” Rachel wondered, her mouth open wide to match mine.

  “It’s a meth lab,” I said, stepping further into the room.

  I noticed racks of heavy artillery on the back walls.

  “A traveling carnival meth lab…” I said incredulously.

  “Well, at least we know their reason for hiding now. They change their name in case someone’s on to them. By the time they figure it out, they’re long gone, with a brand new identity in a new small town they can rip apart by saturating it with drugs,” Rachel breathed, touching the top of one of the beakers.

  “Don’t touch anything!” I hissed. “We need to get out of here. Now. I can’t believe they don’t have someone guarding this place overnight. What idiots! But we need to go. If they catch us, they might just kill us.”

  Rachel and I exchanged worried glances.

  “Do you think that’s what happened to Freya? Maybe she found out about the drugs while she was hanging around with Pockets, and so he—or somebody—killed her?”

  I shook my head back and forth. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had to admit it seemed possible.

  “Time to go. Now,” I said again, pushing her back outside. We locked the room behind us and went back through the entrance of the freak show tent.

  The sun was coming up.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Nine

  Safely back inside Lucy’s trailer, I collapsed on the couch. I felt mentally and physically drained. I hadn’t slept all night, and now it was time to go sketch strangers’ faces in my booth all day.

  “Happy Halloween,” Rachel said dully, looking a little peaked herself. “What are we going to do? I mean, they’re obviously running drugs all over the U.S. We should just go to the police…”

  Rubbing the sleep—or lack thereof—from my eyes, I said, “Just let me think, okay?” I tried to run my fingers through my hair but it was filled with tangles. I touched my new ear piercings. Winced. They were definitely infected.

  “First of all, I don’t trust the police in this town. No offense, but after all the shit you told me about Flocksdale the other day…I don’t trust anyone around here. Well, except you, of course. And your mom…”

  Rachel narrowed her eyes at me, but then her face softened. “No, you’re right. But if we can’t go to the police, where can we go?” I don’t know why, but the first person I thought of was Miss Hamm, Lamison’s local librarian. She’d know what to do. My dad and Candy would too. We could go to the local police and tell them everything. Maybe with a full investigation, they could prosecute the carnival workers involved in the drug trafficking and press them to tell us where Freya went.

  I considered Rachel’s words earlier…Maybe Freya had found out about the drugs and because of it, they silenced her somehow…

  Oh, come on now! I chastised myself. I wasn’t a kindergartener. By “silence,” I meant they killed her.

  My hands shook so hard I had to hold them together to make them stop. Rachel was staring at me, chewing her lip. She didn’t know what to do either.

  “I’ll call my dad and Candy tonight. Tell them to come out here. I’m afraid if I leave and go home, the carnival will take off from Flocksdale and then the cops will never be able to track them down. I need to be here—watching to make sure these assholes don’t go anywhere, while we wait for help to arrive,” I said finally. I was glad to have some sort of plan.

  “Well, for now I’m going to go over and work at the carnival, like I’m supposed to. If I can, I’ll try to take a few pics with my cell phone—get proof of who’s coming and going from that back room.” I stood up, gathering my pencils and stuff for my booth.

  “No, not you. You need to sleep for a couple hours. I’ll tell my mom and Malachi you’re sick. Mom will be up any second now, so make sure you play sick.”

  “No way,” I protested, shaking my head back and forth. The thought of leaving her alone at the carnival with those creeps…

  “I’ll stay with Mom the entire time. And I’ll be back in three hours to wake you up. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

  To be honest, I was too damn tired to argue. I lay down on the couch. My legs were so long I had to prop them up on the arm rest, but it didn’t matter…I was out within minutes, a dreamless sort of sleep.

  Chapter Thirty

  When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by darkness—pitch black, panic-inducing darkness. I leapt to my feet. What the hell?

  It took me a minute to gather my senses, remembering I was staying at Rachel’s mom’s trailer on the carnival grounds in Flocksdale. “Why’s it so dark in here?” I muttered, stumbling around what I hoped was the living room I’d slept in.

  My knee banged against some piece of furniture with a sharp edge. Probably a coffee table, I thought, biting my lip to distract from the knee pain. Using my hands to guide me, I stepped forward slowly, fumbling around in the dark, groping for something, anything. Blessedly, the tips of my fingers grazed the wall.

  I followed it until I found the familiar form of a light switch. When the lights came on, I let out a sigh of relief. Lucy’s trailer stood quiet, empty.

  I went to the kitchen, opening the blinds to look out. As I suspected, it was nighttime. The carnival was booming. Flashes of green, red, and yellow blinding me. Why the hell did Rachel let me sleep so long? I thought angrily.

  Unzipping my bag, I got out a change of clothes and tied my hair up in a bun. I dressed quickly, used the bathroom, and found some toothpaste to brush my teeth. I turned my phone on to check the time.

  Like yesterday, my phone lit up with missed messages and texts. I immediately saw a text from my dad.

  Dad: Josie, please come home! I’m worried sick.

  And then I saw several more, a few of them from Dad and two from Candy.

  Candy: I’m sorry that I can’t be like your real mom. But I do love you and I want to be close with you. Please, just tell me where you are and we will come get you. You’re not in trouble. I just want you home. Please…

  Candy: Josie, sweetie…please call or text me back. Your dad has been losing his mind and the police are out looking for you. Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you. We’ll figure this out together, me and you, as friends…

  Candy: I love you, Josie. I love you so much. Please be okay…

  My eyes welled up with tears, my stomach churning with guilt. How could I have done this to them? I’m going to fix this now. I’m going to tell them where I am so they can come and help me figure out what to do about Flocksdale and Freya and this entire mess…

  I stared at the phone. My text message box held one more message. I wasn’t ready to read another message from my parents, but I clicked to open it anyway. I was so surprised by what I read that I dropped the phone to the floor.

  Horrified, with my hand over my mouth, I reached over and picked up the phone. The message was from Freya.

  Freya: Hey there, stranger! Pockets told me you came searching for me. I guess you know our secret…I decided to join the carnival LOL. Fuck my parents. And fuck that lame ass town of Lamison. I can’t believe you came all this way. Please don’t tell my parents I’m here. I don’t want to go back there.

  I immediately started texting back…

  Me: Oh my god, Freya. I’m just glad you’re okay. Where are you? I was so scared.

  Minutes went by and I started wondering if—once again—I’d never hear from her. I sat down on the sofa again, staring at the phone. Willing a text to come through.

  And then it did.

  Freya: I’m here, silly! Like I said, I’m in
Flocksdale. I’ve been hiding out, but since you already know and I know you won’t tell my parents, I might as well have some fun. I’m getting ready to go inside the haunted house.

  I dropped the phone, forgetting all about my plans to call home. I jammed my shoes on my feet and took off running. Straight toward the House of Horrors.

  Chapter

  Thirty-One

  There were kids in costumes everywhere. If they’d been dressed like normal, I probably would have forgotten the holiday. I darted through a sea of vampires and witches, girls dressed like hookers and boys with Jason masks.

  I was shocked to see the House of Horrors, still dark and mysterious, but now lit up and busy—with a creepy cemetery scene in the front, fog machines, and more ghostly sounds booming from a set of speakers. The haunted house was in full swing tonight.

  Distant screams filled my heart with dread, but I darted up the concrete driveway. The front door was open, no ticket taker in sight. I stepped inside the foyer. It was pitch black like the other day, only this time there were shrieks coming from other rooms, annoyingly scratchy cobwebs everywhere, and a plastic cackling skeleton.

  “Freya!” I shouted uselessly in the dark.

  “Freya, Freya…” a squeaky girl’s voice mocked me, somewhere off the kitchen. I followed the sounds, my heart nearly stopping as I spotted strobe lights ahead.

  “Welcome to the House of Horrors,” a deep male voice spoke in my ear. I nearly jumped out of my own skin. Like Malachi, he was wearing a top hat and tails, but this guy was younger. Scruffier.