Vision of Serpents Page 3

  “It’s her fault!” Blasé pointed at me. “Before she came along, you’d never have taken the word of a Blackburn over your own grandson’s!”

  “This has nothing to do with the Blackburns,” Varick said. “This is about the type of man you are becoming. Right now, I‘m ashamed to be your grandfather. Now, I won’t hear another word. Understand?”

  Blasé slumped in defeat.

  “Mr. McKnight,” Mrs. Bennett said, staring at Blasé. “We’ve had witnesses, including your own cousins, who have backed up Bristol’s story. And while I prefer that Ms. Blackburn had tried to resolve things peacefully, I cannot fault her for defending herself.

  “Bristol.” she continued, and turned to look at me. “You’ve been through a lot today. You lost a friend. While I understand your desire to confront Mr. McKnight, physical violence isn’t the answer. Furthermore, Blasé did not have the right to put his hands on you. So, I’m not going to punish you. I think your uncle should take you home. Maybe you ought to put some thought into how we can move on from this tragedy and help other students heal and learn.”

  Judging by Varick’s expression, I had the feeling that healing and counseling were the last things that Varick had in mind for his grandson. I was pretty sure Blasé was getting that same impression.

  “Sheriff,” Mrs. Bennett said. “Why don’t you leave me and Mr. McKnight to discuss Blasé. Unless either of you have anything further to add?”

  “No,” Uncle Mark said, trying not to grin. “I think Bristol spoke well enough for herself.”

  Varick nodded in my direction, giving me just a hint of a smile. “Agreed.”

  I got up and moved to the door, but Varick intercepted me before I could leave.

  “Bristol,” he said. “I am very sorry about your friend. And Blasé was correct in one respect. Before knowing you, I would likely have taken his side over that of a Blackburn. I think I’m happy that you’ve come into our lives.”

  He reached out and took my hand, like he’d done before.

  That’s when I got the flash.

  I’d never seen this girl before. I was sure of it. She looked about my age, and she was beautiful; she had raven-black hair, blue eyes and an athletic figure.

  She seemed like a typical teenage girl, pushing buttons on her cell-phone—about to make a call.

  Until she was shot in the back by a very angry-looking Varick McKnight.

  When Uncle Mark and I got outside the school, we found Payne waiting near the front doors with Hunter, Maggie, Ian and my cousin Bryan. All of them looked eager to know what had happened in the principal’s office.

  “Bristol,” said my uncle, “I’ll meet you at the car in five minutes.”

  Uncle Mark walked down the school steps and towards the parking lot.

  Bryan stepped up first. “I’m sorry about Eric. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  “Thanks,” I answered. “You going to the hardware store?”

  “Yeah,” Bryan said. “Dad’s been shorthanded since half our cousins who worked there left for college. He’s looking for help.”

  “You think your dad might consider hiring a McKnight?” Payne asked. “I’ve been wanting to get a job.”

  Bryan looked him up and down. “You know the difference between a flat head and a Phillips head?”

  “Who doesn’t?” Payne responded.

  I didn’t point out that I didn’t have the foggiest idea what they were talking about. Before I could say anything, Payne gave me a quick kiss, promised to call me later and took off with Bryan.

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Ian said, watching them go.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Traditionally, Blackburns and McKnights don’t work together.”

  “Well, that’s just silly,” I said. “Why shouldn’t they?”

  “I didn’t say they shouldn’t,” Ian answered. “I just said it’s interesting. The normal tensions are at an all-time low.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Hunter asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ian said. “I just hope nothing ruins it.”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  Before he could answer, I heard my uncle’s car horn beep.

  “I better get going,” I said. “I think Simon is going to be upset, too. He’s friends with Eric’s sister, Skyler.”

  I said my goodbyes and ran to the car. As I did, I got a sudden chill in my bones.

  I didn’t know what it meant, but it couldn’t be good.

  “Let me say this,” Uncle Mark began, as we took a right onto the main road on our way home. “As sheriff, I’m supposed to advocate for peaceful resolutions to conflicts. I understand that you felt you had to defend yourself, but violence should always be the last resort.”

  “I know that,” I said.

  “Good,” Uncle Mark answered. “Now, as your uncle, that son of a gun got what was coming to him. If any boy ever puts his hands on you, you have my blessing to clean his clock.”

  I laughed as Uncle Mark took my hand. Having him in my corner meant the world to me. It was a new experience. My parents never wanted to be bothered with me for the most part. I think they must have sensed I had some sort of ability. They had left Spirit to get away from all of this supernatural stuff. I never confided that I had brought it with me.

  Uncle Mark loved me before he knew about my powers, and he loved me now. I guess I still was unsure how to handle that, but it was a wonderful thing to hear.

  We got home and went inside. I wondered if anyone had heard the news.

  “Well, well,” Grandpa said, as he managed to get up from his easy chair. “If it isn’t Bam Bam Blackburn, Spirit’s golden-gloved champ.”

  Well, I guess news travels fast.

  Zach came out and started shadow boxing with me, or rather, around me. Beside him, Simon and Zack’s boxers Spock and Larry were barking up a storm, and jumping up all over both of us.

  “I heard you broke Blasé’s nose,” Zach yelled. “John John told me that Blasé was knocked out cold and needed smelling salts to wake up. I mean, I don’t get how salt can wake you up. I just smelled the salt in the kitchen. I don’t think that would wake me up. Maybe if you smelled pepper. Then you’d wake up sneezing. Of course, then you’d probably hit your head, and knock yourself out again. Maybe I should sniff the sugar?”

  “Put your nose away,” I told him. “I’ll explain it to you another time. Where’s Simon?”

  “Upstairs,” Grandpa said. “He wanted to go over and see Skyler. I told him he’d best give them a little space. I think our boy may be smitten.”

  “What does smitten mean?” Zach asked. “Does that mean that Simon wants to kiss Skyler? Ew.”

  “Ew?” I repeated. “What’s ew about kissing a girl?”

  “Nothing,” Zach said. “I just feel bad for Skyler.”

  “I better go up and talk to him,” Uncle Mark said. “Zach, go finish your homework.”

  “Dad,” Zach complained.

  Upstairs in my room, Ricky was in his tank, running on his wheel. I looked over to my bed and noticed I wasn’t alone.

  “Eric,” I said, “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  He looked very sad. “I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back. You have to know that.”

  I sat down next to him. “This is something you can’t take back. Ever.”

  “I wish there was some way to make it better.”

  “That’s the thing,” I said. “Once you died, there was nothing more you could do for the people you left behind. I promise you, I’ll do my best to watch out for your mom and sister. We’ll all help them, but now it’s time for you to move on.”

  Eric got up and moved to the window.

  “No. It’s not time yet.”

  I got up and approached him.

  “Why?” I asked. “What are you waiting for?”

  Eric looked out the window, as if searching for so
mething, but there was no answer in my backyard.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I’m still here for a reason.”

  He offered me a sad smile before fading away.

  I was walking outside, towards the stream that led to where Payne and I first met. It was a clear night. The sky was alive with twinkling stars, but I didn’t take the time to admire them.

  I had no idea what I was meant to see. That wasn’t the way these dream visions worked. I just followed my instincts. I went where I felt I needed to go, and right now, I felt the need to walk the same path I took that day. The familiar trail was lined by trees and ended in a sudden drop. I needed to go to the place where I had first seen Payne. He’d come crashing down this bank on his dirt bike, unafraid of breaking his neck since he knew it could heal in moments.

  Tonight, Payne was nowhere in sight.

  I stood by the top of the ridge and waited. Something cold passed by me; it was so cold I started to shiver. I had a really bad feeling that I knew what was coming next.

  “Sssshe hasss been far worse than we ever thought,” said the first shadow that came slithering across the ground, killing the grass as it went.

  “We mussst act,” said the second shadow that seemed to crawl out from the hollow of a tree.

  “We ssshall,” said the third shadow. This one was the biggest, the coldest and the cruelest. It seemed to come from underneath the water. It slithered towards the others, passing over a possum, which shrieked in pain and scurried away. “We shall have a new weapon.”

  “When?” asked the first.

  “Sssoon,” answered the third.

  “Will sssshe ssssuffer?” asked the second.

  “Yesssss.”

  Their laughter rumbled like thunder, and then they ripped through the night like a blade through living flesh.

  - three -

  Tastes Like Chicken

  Journal of Bristol Blackburn

  It’s been a rough few days since Eric’s suicide. I haven’t seen him since that first day. I suppose he could have moved on, but he thought he was hanging around for a reason. I have no idea what that could be, and I don’t think he did either. Unless I’ve missed something in the last few days—which is entirely possible—he hasn’t found it out yet.

  I do hope Eric moves on, for his own sake. On the other hand, I like the fact that I might see him again. I miss him. He was my friend.

  I also haven’t seen or heard anything from the Shadow Creatures since that night. I didn’t miss them. Neither has Uncle Mark, Grandpa or Payne. I told all of them about my dream. Which of course means that I’m not supposed to be alone. Again.

  I haven’t told anyone about the flash of Varick killing that strange girl. I keep hoping I don’t have to bring that up. If she doesn’t show her pretty little face around town, things should be fine.

  With my luck, she’ll show up anyway, and then I’ll really have to worry.

  Last night I kept having a dream about a snake moving through town. I hate snakes. They scare me almost as much as spiders and clowns. At one point, I saw the same snake slithering through school, as if school wasn’t scary enough.

  “Hey,” Maggie yelled as soon as she saw Payne and I approaching. “We got out of morning classes. School assembly.”

  Payne and I glanced at each other before looking back at Maggie, who was dancing a little jig in her bright orange outfit.

  “Really?” Payne asked. “What about?”

  “Who cares?” Maggie retorted. “I don’t have to go to gym class!”

  “What’s wrong with gym class?” Payne asked.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Maggie repeated, as if he was insane. “All that running, and jumping, and throwing balls, and trying to catch them? Which I can’t do, so I get hit in the face?” She turned to me and rolled her eyes. “Bristol, why does your boyfriend want me to get hit in the face?”

  “What?” Payne said, and blinked rapidly in confusion.

  “Maggie,” I said with a sigh. “Payne is not my boyfriend. And I hate gym too. Let’s go.”

  The three of us walked into the auditorium. It was a dull brown, with rows of wooden seats bolted into place. Upfront, the stage was hidden by an old, maroon curtain, which was pulled closed.

  I looked around the room, trying to figure out where I wanted to sit, until I spotted Hunter. We headed her way. Ian was with her, which was no big surprise. So was Bryan.

  “Anyone have any idea what’s up?”

  “No,” Hunter answered. “Least I didn’t have to go to gym.”

  I looked over my shoulder at Payne. “See?”

  He just shook his head. We all took seats together. After we were settled, Hunter turned to me and Payne.

  “Have you talked to Blasé or Archer?”

  “No,” Payne gave me a worried glance. “I’ve been avoiding Blasé. Haven’t seen Archer. Why?”

  “Ever since Eric died, neither of them have been acting like themselves. Blasé has been even more of a jerk, if you can believe it.”

  “I can believe it,” I said. “Except I don’t think he’s acting.”

  “He’s acting out,” Hunter corrected.

  “I repeat: he’s a jerk.”

  “He’s my cousin,” Hunter said. “I’m as mad at him as you are, but he can be a nice guy. You know that.”

  I remembered how Blasé was nearly killed in the fire. He’d been out looking for me and had been possessed by Jay for his trouble. He’d nearly died that night, and when I’d dragged his unconscious butt out of a burning building, I could still hear him mumbling about helping Payne. Maybe Hunter was right. Maybe there was a nice guy inside of him, but it was very well buried under a whole lot of jerk.

  “Well, I haven’t seen him,” I said. “What’s up with Archer?”

  “He’s been very quiet,” Hunter explained. “But unlike Blasé, Archer does feel guilty. He and Blasé really got into it a couple of nights ago, if you get my drift.”

  “Wow,” I said. I was pretty sure that was Hunter’s way of telling me that they each used their abilities against each other. Blasé with his fire and Archer making things go boom.

  “I think Archer started to be nicer to Eric, before—”

  I felt uncomfortable finishing the sentence.

  “I noticed that myself,” Ian said. “Blasé always gives me a hard time, especially when Payne or Hunter aren’t around.”

  “Why don’t you tell me these things?” Hunter asked, giving Ian a small smack on the arm.

  “Tattling on them isn’t going to help,” Ian answered. “In a way, it’s more interesting to observe how they act without trying to influence it. Of course, it’s hard to remember that when you’re getting stuffed into a trash can.”

  “When did they do that?” Payne asked.

  “Oh, that was a while ago,” Ian said. “Before Bristol came to town. It’s okay, they haven’t been as bad in a while.”

  “You know,” I said. “That’s part of the problem, right there. Ian accepts that he’s going to get bullied by them. He feels like it’s better to just take it. Why? Why is it better to just take it and not say anything? You should tell us.” I poked Ian as I said all of this.

  “Ouch,” Ian complained. “All right, enough. You didn’t let me finish. Over the last couple of months, Archer was easing off. He even told Blasé to back off a few times. I think he’s changing.”

  “I’ve noticed that, too,” Bryan said. “Blasé can’t get past the fact that I’m a Blackburn. So he hates that I’ve become friends with the two of you. I thought Archer felt the same way, but now he says hello to me and stuff.”

  “That’s interesting,” Ian said. “When did this start?”

  Bryan turned to answer, but then we saw Principal Bennett on stage, calling for everyone’s attention.

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Bennett said. “I know many of you are very disappointed to be missing classes right now.�
��

  There was a loud chorus of laughter.

  “Today, we have something more important to discuss than schoolwork. Something that I’m afraid has been put off for far too long.

  “Today,” she continued, “we’re going to talk about bullying.”

  The room went silent. Everyone knew why we were here now.

  “As you all know,” Mrs. Bennett said. “Earlier this week, Eric Wilson took his own life. I know that many of you were close to him. Eric’s sister Skyler also goes to school here. Many of you may be friends with her. When someone commits suicide, it hurts so many people.

  “As I have since learned, Eric was a victim of bullying within this school. I’m sure that he wasn’t alone; I know this kind of thing happens everywhere, and your teachers can’t be everywhere. It’s a fact of life, right?”

  She paused a moment.

  “Well, I’m under no illusion that one assembly is going to fix everything and everyone. But it’s going to be a start.”

  As she spoke, there was an amazing amount of sadness filling the room. Hunter and Maggie were both crying. Bryan had his arms crossed, a look of misery on his face. Payne had the same look he got when he was trying to close himself off from his emotions. I’d seen it in my dreams a thousand times. Ian didn’t seem to know what to do. After several minutes, he slowly reached out and took Hunter’s hand. She leaned into his shoulder as she silently wept.

  Underneath the sadness in the room was another emotion simmering throughout the hall. Anger. It was flying everywhere. Some of it was pretty intense.

  “Now,” Mrs. Bennett continued. “We’re not here to point fingers and assign blame. What we’re here to do is to learn from what’s happened—to move past it and to be better to each other. And we’re going to have help. Allow me to introduce Mr. Scott, Mr. Fleming, Ms. Carter and Mr. Underhill.”

  Four people came onto the stage, stepping forward in turn as Mrs. Bennett named them.

  Mr. Scott had the look of a Harvard professor. He was older, with receding gray hair, and wore a sweater vest and glasses.