Summer's End Page 13

  “Well, Jake and I already talked about that before you got here.”

  “We’re going to spend tomorrow night at Summer’s End,” Jacob said. “Camp out on the island. And we were wondering if you want to come too.” He told them about his talk with Mrs. Cannington and the journal she had given him, then showed them Ichiro’s proof that Dr. Stockwell had killed a child every four years. “We think he’s going to kill again by the end of this summer.”

  “Huh,” Hayden said, allowing everything to sink in. “If that’s true, shouldn’t we be worried that his next victim will be one of us?”

  No one answered.

  Hayden continued. “I mean, shouldn’t we avoid the island — heck, the entire lake — like the plague?”

  “You’re right,” Jacob said. “If we go to Summer’s End, we’re putting our lives in danger. But if we don’t go, what then? If I sit here and do nothing and some other kid goes missing …” He thought of Colton, saw himself telling him he wished the Kalapik would get him on a Thursday afternoon in June, finding his chair empty the following Friday morning. “At least we have a fighting chance. I think we know more about the doctor and the island’s history than anyone else in town, including Mrs. Cannington.”

  “So why don’t we take all this information to the cops, let them deal with it?” Hayden said.

  “No.” Jacob shook his head. “No, that won’t do any good. If we show them all the newspaper articles, the photo of Tresa, the letter we pieced together, this journal, what does it all add up to? Nothing, other than something terrible happened at Summer’s End a long time ago. And if we tell them we think the house is haunted they’ll laugh us out of the station and then order psych tests for each of us.”

  “Jake’s right,” Ichiro said. “No one will believe us. If anyone can put a stop to Dr. Stockwell, it’s us.”

  Jacob sighed and looked at each of his friends in turn. “I have a feeling that if we can somehow force Dr. Stockwell into the Black Sea and, I don’t know, seal it up or block the entrance somehow, we can trap him there forever. I get it if you don’t want to come, but I’m going.” He nodded resolutely. “I’m going.”

  “What kind of friend would I be if I let you go on your own?” Ichiro said. He gave the twins a sheepish look. “No pressure, guys.”

  “No pressure?” Hannah laughed. “That’s a metric ton of pressure. But even if it wasn’t I would’ve said yes too.”

  “Well, I’m not going to be the odd man out,” Hayden said. “Plus, I’m in no rush to go back home. I’m in.”

  “Bring some food, whatever gear you want and some money for snacks.” Ichiro pointed at the twins. “You can borrow some clothes and backpacks from me. I’ve got a tent we can use, and of course Scarlet Sails.”

  “Still a dumb name for a canoe,” Hayden pointed out dryly.

  Ichiro ignored the jibe and carried on outlining his plan. “Jake, I’ll tell my parents I’m sleeping over at your house tomorrow night and you can tell your mom you’re sleeping at mine. Let’s meet at East Road Convenience at three.”

  “Three in the afternoon?” Jacob said. “Why so late?”

  Ichiro shrugged. “I don’t get up before noon. Plus, my parents are going out early in the afternoon for some sort of work function, so they won’t see us if we leave then. It’s a perfect plan.”

  Jacob had to admit it did sound pretty good, but he couldn’t help thinking of one of his mother’s favourite expressions: Man plans and God laughs.

  With fist bumps and back-slaps they said goodbye. Ichiro, Hannah and Hayden snuck out of the backyard. Jacob lingered outside a little longer.

  The sky was a dark blanket that hung above his head. The air was electric, hot and suffocating. But there was also a chill to the night that seemed out of place, like a lone red rose growing in a dead garden. He felt a quiver in his stomach, deep down under everything.

  He had a feeling, as certain as he knew his own name, that Valeton’s heat wave was about to break.

  A storm was coming.

  FOURTEEN

  August 26

  The sky was red.

  Water poured down from the heavens above and flooded the land. The oceans and seas and lakes swelled. The world was washed away. All of it, in the blink of an eye, gone.

  A woman’s voice sang — crackle, crackle — in Jacob’s head as he awoke to the new world.

  Good evening, good night—

  He treaded, desperately trying to stay above the surface. He yelled and screamed for help but no one was around to hear him. He turned, but in every direction there was only water, water, water, water. It lapped against his face, burned his eyes, choked his throat. He dropped below.

  Down, down, down.

  He twisted and twirled and became disoriented. He no longer knew which way was up, which way was down.

  The woman in his head continued to sing, as if it was to be the last song sung on earth and nothing — not even the end of the world — was going to stop her from finishing.

  With roses covered—

  Underwater, a sea-soaked voice: “Don’t worry, Jacob. This will all be over soon. Come down with me. Come down where it’s safe.”

  Tresa floated out of the murky depths, through darkness and seaweed and sludge.

  With cloves adorned—

  “Behind you,” she yelled in near silence.

  Jacob turned. A metre behind him was a hideous version of Dr. Stockwell, with long hair and green skin and black eyes and long fingernails. He raised a knife.

  Slip under the covers—

  Jacob yelled and an explosion of bubbles poured out of his mouth. He found the strength to swim, kicking his legs and pulling his arms and madly hoping he was going in the right direction. After a panicked second that became two, three, four, five panicked seconds he burst through the surface and sucked air into his lungs in messy, ragged gasps.

  Tomorrow morning, if God wills—

  But he knew he was far from safe. The Kalapik was still beneath him. At this very moment, the monster was swimming up to grab him, to claw at him, to scratch him, to cut him, to pull him back down and never let him go.

  you will wake once again—

  Maybe, Jacob thought, maybe it would be better to go with Tresa. Safer. A last resort.

  Good evening, good night—

  Something floated on the water’s surface, sparkling in the blood-red sunlight. A necklace. Jacob reached for it as if it were a life preserver. As soon as his hand grabbed hold of the pendant and chain, he was suddenly standing. Dry. On land.

  In the basement of Summer’s End.

  It was dark. Hard to see. Cold and staid. Silent.

  “Good.”

  Jacob spun around.

  Tresa: “You came.”

  By angels watched—

  Clump, clump, clump. The sound of footfalls. Heavy. Coming down the stairs.

  “Oh no. My husband. He found us.”

  Thump, thump, thump. The sound of a heartbeat. Jacob’s. Banging against his chest.

  Dr. Stockwell: “I told you if you returned you’d meet the same fate as Colton.”

  Colton: “Jacob!” His voice came from the wall. Not from it, Jacob realized. From within it. “Help me!”

  Who show you in your dream—

  Dr. Stockwell: “Now it’s too late.” He walked slowly down, down, down into the basement and gripped his bloody knife tight, tight, tight in his clawed hand.

  Jacob couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The basement grew darker, colder.

  Tresa: “Quickly, now! In here. Before he gets you too.” She pointed at the wall — the screams and wails of ten or twenty or more children joined Colton’s in a frenzied chorus of fear — and held her other hand out to Jacob.

  the Christ-child’s tree—

  He looked from her hand to his own. He held something. He uncurled his fingers. In his palm was the necklace he had grabbed from the water’s surface. Its chain was wrapped around his wr
ist and forearm three times, like a snake.

  The necklace began to glow red. It grew hot against his skin.

  Dr. Stockwell was right behind Jacob.

  Crackle, crackle.

  The doctor raised his knife above his head. It was poised to come down, quivering to pierce Jacob’s skull.

  Sleep now blissfully and sweetly—

  Jacob raised his hand to block the blow.

  The necklace’s chain slithered off his arm.

  The pendant burned even brighter and hotter in his palm. Its red light lit up the basement.

  Dr. Stockwell’s black eyes flicked and suddenly looked human again. Wide, and full of terror.

  see the paradise in your dream—

  And Jacob knew.

  Jacob knew the ghost could be stopped.

  Jacob knew Dr. Stockwell could be defeated.

  * * *

  Jacob woke.

  Tired, weary, more than a little disturbed, but also hopeful. He had a plan, he had his friends and he believed in himself — that’s all he needed.

  His dream began to slip away like a snake in the grass.

  Like a snake …

  The necklace. It saved me from drowning and it stopped Dr. Stockwell.

  Jacob grabbed the black journal before his dream could flee farther away, and flipped to the final page. He scanned Albruna’s mad writings and found the passage he was looking for.

  My chest began to burn and I thought I was having a heart attack. It took me a moment to realize it was the chalcedony pendant I wore around my neck. I removed it from under my shirt. It grew hotter in my hand.

  The similarities between this and his dream were striking. Jacob wondered if that was a simple coincidence, or if reading the journal had influenced his dream, but no, he felt — he knew — that this was the key to defeating Dr. Stockwell.

  Chalcedony, he wondered. What’s chalcedony?

  He searched the word on his phone and opened a website about gemstones. At the top of the page was a short description.

  Chalcedony, named after the ancient Turkish seaport Chalcedon, is a type of silica composed of very fine intergrowths of quartz and moganite. It has been a popular stone used in jewellery design for thousands of years, and has been worn by ancient Greek sailors as protection from drowning and by early Europeans to ward off evil spirits.

  There’s the proof, Jacob thought. Definitely not a coincidence.

  There were many different colours and varieties of chalcedony gems pictured on the website, including one green one that looked similar to his mother’s necklace.

  He got out of bed and crossed his room. His fingers trembled as he pulled the curtain across its track and looked outside. It was as if he’d cut the belly of the sky open and flooded his room with its light. The blood-red sunrise was beautiful and awe inspiring. It was also a little intimidating.

  Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.

  He had hoped the storm would pass, but he knew all too well what the colour of the morning sunrise foretold.

  Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.

  He got dressed and waited for his mother to head down to the kitchen.

  When the coast was clear, he snuck into her room. In the jewellery dish on her bedside table, her necklace glinted in the morning light. He picked it up and warily slipped it into his pocket, half expecting it to slither back out and feeling more than a little guilty about taking it.

  I’m just borrowing it. I’ll return it.

  His phone rang. It was Ichiro. He answered it quickly and slipped back into his room, then closed the door gently.

  “Hey, man,” Jacob said quietly. “You’re up early. You guys have an all right night?”

  “Hayden got up three times to pee and Hannah is a champion snorer, so I’m pretty groggy, but otherwise we’re peachy. You?”

  “Yeah, I slept fine.” Jacob didn’t feel like reliving the parts of his dream he could still recall quite so soon after waking. “What’s up?”

  Ichiro paused. “Did you see the sky this morning?”

  “Yeah. It was kind of hard to miss.”

  “Hard to miss? It was blood red.” Ichiro paused, then added, “A bad omen.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Ichiro. That’s just an old wives’ tale.”

  “Yeah, well, tales sometimes become old wives’ tales because there’s truth to them.”

  “Are you trying to say we shouldn’t go to Summer’s End today? Because as I said before, we don’t have any time to lose.”

  Ichiro sighed. “You’re right. Today’s the day.”

  “Rain or shine?”

  “Rain or shine.”

  * * *

  The rest of the morning was, surprisingly, all shine, no rain. The red faded to pink and then mellowed to a soft blue, but in the eastern horizon hung a bulbous black cloud that swelled like a tumour. Jacob tried not to look at the cloud as he packed his overnight gear.

  Into his backpack went a pair of jeans and a hoodie sweater in case the night got cold. He slid a few comics in the back, careful not to bend or tear the pages, and on top of everything he placed the journal and Tresa’s taped-together letter.

  A small coin jar sat on his desk. Jacob opened it and spilled his change on the tabletop. He had $14.35 in dollars, quarters, dimes and nickels. The sum total of his savings. He swiped the coins off the edge of the desk into a sandwich bag.

  Last, but certainly not least, he slipped his mother’s chain over his head and tucked the pendant behind his shirt. He felt a little silly wearing a piece of women’s jewellery, but no one would see it and he hoped it might protect him and his friends.

  Jacob looked in the mirror. A frightened teenager with a backpack slung over one shoulder looked back at him. “Snap out of it,” he said. “Be brave. It’s just one night. There and back again. Possibly the last time the four of us will do something like this together.”

  One last adventure.

  * * *

  When he entered the kitchen in search of breakfast, he found his mother sitting at the table, sipping a mug of coffee and working on another crossword puzzle.

  “Lazybones,” she said, without looking up.

  “Let me guess,” Jacob said, looking over her shoulder at the newspaper. “A nine-letter word for an idle person.”

  “No, it’s not from the crossword puzzle this time. I’m just calling you a lazybones.”

  “Mom! It’s not even ten yet.”

  “The early cardinal gets the worm,” his mother said.

  “The early cardinal? Why would you say that?”

  His mother laughed and looked at her son quizzically. “I didn’t. I said ‘the early bird gets the worm.’ Do you need to get your ears checked?”

  Jacob tried to cover by laughing with a shrug. “No, my ears are fine. Maybe I need more sleep.”

  “Well, I can’t help you with that, but I can feed you, and that’s equally important. There are fresh eggs in the fridge. If you mix them in a bowl, I’ll cook us some omelettes. What do you say?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Between mouthfuls of egg and cheese, Jacob said, “Ichiro invited me to sleep over at his house tonight. Is that cool?”

  “Yeah, of course that’s cool.” His mother ran her napkin across her lips and smiled. “What kind of trouble do you two plan on getting into?”

  Jacob shrugged and looked at his plate. He hated lying to his mother, but he was committed to the plan. “We’ll probably just play some video games and watch a couple of horror movies in his basement.”

  “Sounds like you’re not going to get much sleep.”

  You have no idea, Jacob thought.

  * * *

  At three o’clock sharp, Jacob coasted down the hill to East Road Convenience. Ichiro was already there but he was alone.

  “Where are the twins?” Jacob asked.

  “They called home this morning to tell their mom they’re staying at my place tonight. She said their dad was out, so
they decided to go back quickly to grab some stuff.”

  Jacob removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair. He slipped off his backpack and rested it on the ground. With a sleeping bag tied to its bottom and some food he’d snuck out of the kitchen (half a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, three apples and two bottles of water), in addition to everything he’d packed earlier in the day, it was uncomfortably heavy.

  “So,” Jacob said, “you’re leaving in, what, two weeks?”

  “Thirteen days. But who’s counting?”

  “Are you ready?”

  Ichiro laughed. “No, not even close. I haven’t even started to pack yet.”

  “I meant, are you ready mentally to move?”

  “Oh.” Ichiro thought about the question for a moment. “I guess. It’s happening whether I’m ready or not, right?”

  Jacob nodded. He detected some doubt in his friend’s tone. “It’s going to be an incredible experience. I mean, Japan? Seriously? What a cool place to live. You’re going to have a blast.”

  “It does look pretty awesome. I borrowed this travel DVD from the library. Japan is, like, super high-tech. Did you know most video games are released there months before they’re available in the rest of the world?”

  “You’ve become quite the library junky,” Jacob said.

  “And it’s all your fault.” Ichiro smiled with a mixture of sadness and joy. “Thank you, Jake.”

  “For what?”

  “Being such a great friend. I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’m going to miss you too.”

  A few minutes later, Hayden and Hannah coasted down the hill on their bikes.

  “Hey, losers,” Hannah shouted good-naturedly. “We got our clothes so we’re all set.”

  “And a couple of heavy-duty flashlights,” Hayden said.

  “Shoot,” Jacob said. “I knew I forgot something. Do you have a spare flashlight at home, Ichiro?”

  He shook his head. “I only have one. Do you want to go home to get your flashlight and meet us at my place?”

  Jacob looked up at the greying sky. He didn’t want to add any more time to their trip. “Nah, forget it. As long as we don’t separate I’ll be fine.”