Page 27

27

Hannah

A SPLIT SECOND AFTER the window shattered and the hole appeared in Danny’s forehead, Hannah heard the gunshot. A thin pop! —nothing like in the movies or on television. More like a firecracker or kid’s toy, and that’s what she wanted it to be—in that milli-second she tried to convince herself what she heard wasn’t the blast of a gun, the hole in Danny’s head wasn’t real, and this was all some kind of elaborate prank. For that millisecond, everything moved in slow motion. She waited for the half smile on Danny’s face to complete, for him to laugh, for him to tell her, I got you!

Danny didn’t, though. Instead, he fell forward, his head cracked hard against her temple, and he went still.

“Danny?”

Hannah managed the single word, but nothing else came out. There was nothing but her shallow breathing and Ed Sheeran singing “Bad Habits” from the tinny speakers of Danny’s Ford. No sound came from Danny, and that’s when she realized it was real.

“Oh my God, Danny!”

Hannah tried to sit up, get out from under him, but he weighed too much and dead—

Please don’t let him be dead!

—or not, she wasn’t about to roll him off the seat to the floor. The sound of that, that thump, would be too much.

“Danny, baby, please wake up!”

“I’m afraid … he’s not gonna do that.”

The voice came from somewhere outside the car, a slight drawl to it, as if whoever spoke considered each word and was careful to enunciate every syllable before allowing them past his lips.

With Danny’s weight pressing down on her, Hannah twisted her head around, tried to see outside the car, but she spotted nothing through the missing window where the shot had originated, and the others were covered in a thin sheen of steam. Ed Sheeran was still droning on, and Hannah wished to God she could turn it off, but she couldn’t reach the radio or her phone. She forced her voice to work. “Who the hell are you?! What do you want?”

“I want you, Hannah. I have for a very long time. I’m thrilled you found your way to me, today of all days.”

Hannah knew that voice but couldn’t quite place it. Familiar, yet not.

A dark shadow drifted over the rear window, gone as quickly as it appeared.

A thick black fly crawled in through the open window and perched upside down on the headliner, looked down at her while rubbing its wiry legs together. It was rare to see them in the fall. They usually died off by July. This one was so fat it might have broken the odds and lived far longer than it should. It jumped from the headliner to Danny’s head, and Hannah shooed it away.

“I used to see you, Hannah, out running after school. Nearly every day, you were always so disciplined about it. I’d see you and think, Man, if God created women on the sixth day, he invented yoga pants on the seventh . You running along in those tight black pants and skimpy sports bra kept me going through the rough days. Like a shot in the arm, directly from heaven. No matter how bad it got, I knew you’d be out on that sidewalk around four-thirty to make things all better. You even waved at me once, about six months ago, but I don’t think you recognized me. Not then. I’m curious if you remember me at all.”

The shadow rolled across the car again, and he appeared in the missing window. Gray overalls, covered in grease stains both old and new. She didn’t see his face until he crouched down, took off a faded Red Sox cap, and scratched his head.

Malcolm Mitchell.

The name just came to her. He dropped out of high school last fall at the start of his senior year. She didn’t know why, they hadn’t talked, weren’t friends or anything. He was just some guy who was in the halls at school, until the day he wasn’t. He vanished from her thoughts as quickly as he’d vanished from Hollow High.

Several more black flies appeared. Two landed on his shoulder; another was in his hair. Malcolm didn’t seem to notice them. He grinned in at her, a smile made of crooked yellow teeth. “You do remember me! I can see it in your eyes. Imagine that, Hannah Hernandez actually knows who I am.” He reached through the open window, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. “I need you to get out of the car.”

Hannah didn’t move. Not only because Danny was still lying on top of her, but because nothing about her body wanted to work. It was like she was frozen, watching this in some bad dream, but unable to react.

Malcolm grabbed both of Danny’s legs, gave him a hard twist, and rolled him to the floor. The smile never left Malcolm’s face. It broadened when he spotted the corner of Hannah’s discarded bra on the floor under Danny. “Sorry I interrupted. I bet you’re all worked up, huh?”

Hannah didn’t answer that. She couldn’t.

One of the black flies skittered across Malcolm’s cheek, crawled over his ear, and vanished inside. He didn’t seem to notice that, either.

She swallowed the scream before it could get out.

Malcolm’s slow gaze traveled from her bare feet up every inch of her body, came to rest on her eyes. “I originally planned to snatch you off the sidewalk, ’bout four months ago. Had duct tape in my car, parked along your usual route, even unlocked my door when I saw you coming up the street. I chickened out, though. I actually pissed myself, and I think the courage went out right along with it. Time just wasn’t right, not for either of us.” He smiled that yellow grin. “I’m glad I waited a beat. You got four months of dedicated foreplay in my head. We’re gonna have ourselves a party.”

Malcolm gripped her ankles and pulled her toward him, pulled her out of the car with impossible strength. On the way out, Hannah’s head cracked against the seat, the bottom of the metal door frame, then the asphalt, and her world went black.