Page 30 of The Executioners Three
“Oh god, oh god,” Divya whispered. “What’s going on?”
“It’ll be okay,” Freddie whispered back, unsure why she felt the sudden need to be quiet. “Mom was just complaining about the electrical wiring the other day.”
“But what if the lights don’t turn back on, Fred? How will we get out?” Divya was breathing faster now.
“There’s a window at the back. And lightdoescome in there. Our eyes will adjust soon enough.” Even as Freddie said this with total calm, her gut was kicking into Full Rebellion. A vicious curdling that made her knees weak and the hairs stand so tall on her neck and arms and legs it actually hurt.
Like,hurt.
And oh god, now there was that sense of something at her throat. She grappled at her neck with the hand that wasn’t holding Divya, half expecting she’d find blood there. That a gaping hole would be spurting arterial heat onto her fingers…
But there was nothing wet. And no ripped flesh either.
The lights flipped back on.
Both girls winced at the onslaught. “I’m leaving,” Divya rasped, her face ashen.
“Yeah,” Freddie agreed. Her heart felt anchored to her intestines. The sense of blood at her neck was fading fast, but not the stink. And not the certainty in her gut that she and Divya shouldnotbe here. “Grab the books.”
“What about the rules?”
“Screw the rules.” Freddie started shoving the volumes into Divya’s backpack. “We’re basically hoodlums now anyway.”
Divya nodded. Together, they gathered all the texts Divya needed, before slinging back four rows to grabThe Curse of Allard Fortin.
Then the girls fled for the ladder, and they did not look back.
“I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever pedaled,” Freddie declared as she propped Steve’s old bike against a spruce. “Good thing you fit on my handlebars.”
Divya winced and rubbed her butt. “I don’t know about that. I can feel my tush bruising as we speak. Although, better that than facing whatever was back there.”
“Which was what, exactly?” Freddie raised an eyebrow. Now that they were well removed from the archives and the stench, she feltdeeplyfoolish. This was not how future sheriffs behaved.
“Ghosts, probably,” Divya answered. “Or maybe aliens.”
“And I thoughtIwatched too much Mulder and Scully.”
Freddie swung the backpack of stolen goods off her back, and after carefully removing Xena from her neck, she tore off her hoodie and flannel, leaving only a white T-shirt with her jeans. She was so hot from pedaling. The last hill out of the forest was brutal, but at least the street was now visible through the trees.
“Alright, Madame Srivastava,” Freddie said once all was rearranged. “Back on the handlebars you go. Unless you want to walk?” she tried hopefully.
“No.” Divya shuddered. “This place is wiggins central, and I want to go home. I can’tbelieveyou rode your bike here on Wednesday night.”
Freddie couldn’t believe it either, honestly. And as ashamed as she was for freaking out in the archives, she was also glad she wasn’t alone right now. City-on-the-Berme might be her favorite place in the world, but it had lately veered away from fantastic fall vibes toward major murder vibes.
Channel Sheriff Bowman,she told herself. Channel Dana Scully. You are a skeptic! You are not afraid!
While Divya grunted and shoved back into the narrow space between the upright bars, Freddie flung a final glance into the forest below.
No such thing as ghosts. No such thing as aliens. No such thing as creepy Executioners from a creepy poem…
Her thought didn’t finish. Not before her eyes caught on a blip of red. She almost fell over—and Divyadidfall with a screech.
“Sorry,” Freddie called, scrabbling off the bike and half leaping toward the patch of red.
It was a red sports bottle tucked beside a witch hazel.
Freddie slowed to a stop before it. The cross-country team often left water along their routes before their long runs. Other local runners did too, and this was a particularly popular spot because it was the three-mile mark from the Village.
