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“Abby,” he started to say, his stomach tying itself in knots, “that’s not—”
“I’ve got it!”
Both he and Abby jumped a little at Jordan’s sudden shout.
“I’ve got it,” he cried again. “I mean, I don’t got it got it, but I think I know what we need to do.”
Dan wasn’t ready to leave behind the possibility that Abby might be hallucinating mysterious voices. This was probably the point when a real boyfriend would give her a hug, or at least sit with her until she calmed down. Stupid distance. Stupid webcam.
“Go on,” Dan said, tearing his focus away from Abby. “What do we need to do?”
“He said to follow, right?” Jordan said, speaking quickly, excitedly. Tip-tap-tip-tap. Jordan typed so noisily Dan almost couldn’t hear his voice. “I didn’t see it at first because of what’s missing. Look at the photos again, all three of them—mine, then yours, Dan, then Abby’s.”
Dan slipped the picture off his desk and steadied it in front of the monitor, comparing it to the photos his friends had received. They made a complete panorama, one wide carnival tent and a bizarre group of people, posed in a vacant tableau. What did a weird old carnival have to do with this code?
“See?” Jordan cried. “Right there, behind the tent and the Ferris wheel. Do you see it?”
“See what?” Abby said flatly. “A blurry smudge and, I don’t know, a roof maybe? I can’t make it out …”
Dan had already pored over the photos a dozen or so times since returning to his house, but now he tried to study the panorama with fresh eyes. Abby was right—it looked like a roof, a tall, slanted roof. “A steeple?”
“Nope,” Jordan replied. “Here. Look at this picture I’m sending.”
The messenger window below the videos flashed, and Dan scrolled to check out the image Jordan had found. It was almost impossible to describe the hard jab of excitement and dread that hit him like a punch to the throat. It felt like he might choke on his next breath.
Sloped, white with dark trim, falling to pieces …
“Brookline,” he whispered, his eyes mere centimeters from the screen. “That’s the campus. That carnival—it’s on the green in front of Wilfurd Commons.”
“I thought it looked familiar, so I checked the college’s website and voilà! It’s hard to see at this resolution, but it’s definitely Brookline,” Jordan explained.
“Nice catch,” Abby said.
“Thank you, thank you very much. I’m here all week.”
“Okay,” Dan said, leaning back in his chair. He stuck his thumbnail in his mouth and worried it, his eyes shifting from the color photo on his screen to the black-and-white one on his desk. “Okay, so that’s Brookline. That’s the campus. What are the numbers then?”
“They’re coordinates,” Jordan said, his voice punctuated by the staccato of his speedy typing. “They don’t make any sense without the cardinal indications, but I looked up Camford’s coordinates and they’re close. Really close. If you substitute in the right letters, you’ll see what I mean.”
“Slow down, Jordan, we can’t all be misunderstood geniuses,” Dan teased.
“No, I see what he means!” Now Abby sounded just as caught up, just as thrilled as Jordan. Dan couldn’t match their enthusiasm, not yet.
“Like this,” Jordan said, and a new message appeared.
43°12′24″N 71°32′17″W
“Holy crap. Forget misunderstood, you’re just a genius.”
“Oh, that’s not all. With coordinates this precise, we can get pinpoint accuracy. Give me five minutes with Google Maps and I can have a list of addresses for you.”
So the first part of the mystery was solved, at least. Coordinates. You’re not finished. It couldn’t be any more obvious that Felix was handing them a map.
“Dan? What’s the matter?” Abby asked. She peered into the screen at him, her brow creased with worry. “You got quiet there.”
“I’m just thinking.”
“As usual,” Abby said with a laugh. “Come on, fill us in.”
“It’s not a happy thought,” he warned.
“A happy thought? Dan, we’ve all been so sleep deprived and stressed lately, I’ve forgotten what a happy thought looks like. Between these photos and senior year, I’m this close to checking myself in to the loony bin.” She coughed, scrunching up her eyes before squeaking out, “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”
“But not the worst segue, actually.”
“Oh boy, here we go,” Jordan said.
“It’s just … Felix said ‘follow,’ and it was … I don’t know. A cry for help, I think. I was sure getting away from Brookline would help him, help all of us, but that hasn’t been the case, has it? We’re still messed up and I keep wondering if maybe the only way forward is to go back. ‘You’re not finished’—that’s what the photos say, right? Well, maybe we’re not.”
“I was worried you were going to say that,” Abby replied, pursing her lips. Her skin, ashy from an obvious lack of sleep, didn’t at all match the bright homemade paintings decorating the room behind her.
“But not surprised,” Jordan added. Abby gave him a warning look. “What? It’s too late at night to worry about feelings and crap. Meanwhile, I’m all finished with these coordinates. Survey says ten-twenty Ellis is the first address. Thirteen-eleven Virgil is address number two. Then we’ve got nine-twenty-two Blake and finally thirty-nineteen Concord. They’re all, surprise, surprise, in spitting distance of the college.”
“So what’s it going to be?” Dan asked, trying his best to keep the undercurrent of excitement out of his voice. “Do we forget today ever happened and hope this all goes away? Or do we see what’s behind door number two?”
“And by door number two, you mean the place where we almost died,” Abby said. “I don’t know, Dan. What are you thinking, we’ll just waltz back onto campus with a set of directions and say, ‘Excuse me, sir, do you know why our psychotic sort-of friend might have sent us here?’” Abby took a deep breath. “I mean, no offense. I just really don’t follow.”
For once, Jordan didn’t have anything snarky to add. He was clearly awaiting Dan’s answer, too. But Dan had thought this through already. Really, he had Sandy to thank for the inspiration—she was the one to suggest he look at other colleges.
“How would you guys feel about a prospective students’ weekend?”
In the dream, Dan could actually feel the heat of the flames as they spouted out in front of his face. He began to sweat, ducking the gout of fire just as it left the performer’s mouth. Then he spun to glare at the man—didn’t he see him there? But the man was laughing, wiping the fuel off his lips and slapping his thigh. The whole carnival began to tip slightly, the ground shifting under Dan’s feet. This was probably what being drunk felt like, he thought, wandering aimlessly through the striped tents.
No, not aimlessly … Something was guiding his path. He didn’t know what he was heading toward, only that he had to get there. Answers. Answers to questions he was only now brave enough to ask. What if he could make his family do anything he wanted? What if mind control wasn’t magic, but science?
He was getting closer, just barely staying upright as he left the last of the tents behind and approached a ragged stage. In his sweaty hand, Dan clutched a slip of firm paper. “Admit One.” The old coot waited for him onstage, patient, watchful. He really didn’t look like much, but appearances could be deceiving …
A shrill bell pierced the vision, and just like that the dream vanished.
Dan sat up fast in bed, instantly dizzy. The dinging outlived the dream, and he scrambled, trying to find his phone on his bedside table. In the process, he knocked over the bottle of Benadryl, which he’d left open after taking a pill to fall asleep.
Bleary-eyed, he found the phone next to the overturned bottle. He rolled onto his back, bringing the screen close to his face.
Missy had texted him.
Wish u had made it 2 the party. We all missed u!
Dan groaned and dropped the phone back on the bedside table. He probably should have at least texted her to say happy birthday, but it had slipped his mind. Too tired to reply, he pulled the blankets up over his head and tried to fall back asleep.
A single thought kept him awake, and for once, it wasn’t a bad one: soon he wouldn’t have to worry about Missy and Tariq. He would get to see Abby and Jordan, his real friends.
(#ulink_2ef92f3b-72d1-5e2e-801e-f1f283e5352e)
Chill drizzle flattened his hair, and Dan parted it and combed it with his fingers again. He fidgeted on the sidewalk, cold and anxious, drumming on his legs from inside his pants pockets. Cars drifted by, filling the air with the soft shhush-shhush of tires slicking across wet pavement.
Finally, a new bus pulled up, brakes squealing, and he could see Abby’s bright face peering out at him from above.
He waved, adjusting the heavy laptop bag slung over his shoulder. Already he had checked three times to make sure he had packed all of his meds, but now he checked the laptop bag again, almost as a nervous tic.
Just like when they first got to NHCP, Jordan and Abby had taken the same bus. The smell of diesel wafted over Dan, mingling with the wormy petrichor scent lingering on the pavement. He hunkered down into his jacket and stamped his feet to get warm. It was slightly colder here than at home, already wintry in late October. Tiny filaments of rain clung to the cold trees, benches, and cracks in the sidewalk. Down the block from the bus stop, the town businesses had put jack-o’-lanterns and twinkling purple lights out to decorate for Halloween.
Mist rolled down from the hilltop campus, blanketing the town in a milky glow.
“Hey,” Dan greeted. “You guys finally made it.”
Abby was the first one off the bus, and he hurried forward to help her with her bags. She wore a bright yellow peacoat with a sprig of peacock feathers pinned to the lapel and a floppy knit cap. Sometime since the last time he had seen her, Abby had dyed a chunk of her hair electric blue. They hugged, and Dan gave her a light kiss on the cheek.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said, blushing. “Here, let’s get Jordan’s stuff.”
She turned to assist Jordan, who wore his usual dark, stylish clothes—a leather jacket and skinny jeans, with woolly socks just visible above the tops of his scuffed ankle boots.
Dan had forgotten how tragically unhip he felt in their presence. He also noticed slips of scrap paper poking out of Jordan’s jacket pockets.
“I don’t suppose those are hangman games?” Dan asked.
“These?” Jordan pulled out one of the slips. “Just messing around.”
From what Dan could see, “just messing around” meant hundreds of rows of mathematical calculations. He had to wonder what it was like inside Jordan’s genius head. They picked up their bags and waited for the street to clear, then they crossed to the paved path winding up toward the college itself.
“How was the trip?” Dan asked, walking as close to Abby as he could without tripping her. “It’s been raining like this since the second I stepped off the plane.”
“Jordan wouldn’t shut up about his host,” Abby replied. “He looked him up on Facebook. Very rich. Very athletic. And very handsome with a capital H-O-T.”
Dan laughed nervously.
“And probably very straight with a capital Disappointment,” Jordan added.
“I doubt we’ll see much of them anyway,” Dan pointed out. “We’re here on a mission.” He tried to say this lightly, like it was all a funny joke, but neither Jordan nor Abby laughed. “Besides, they probably don’t have time for lame high school students like us.”
“Yeah.” Jordan tossed his curly hair and gave Abby a sideways look. “Let’s hope they don’t pay too much attention to the Scooby gang sneaking off.”
“I don’t remember this hill being so steep,” Abby said, puffing. “Man, this place must get freezing in the winter.”
With every step they took up the hill toward the college, Dan felt his breath becoming shorter and his mood darker. It was one thing to talk about coming back here; it was another thing entirely to be here, to be back. Felix, possessed or inspired by the Sculptor, had tried to kill them. Dan had seen an actual dead body. But as anxious as the place made him, it was as if someone had opened him up and hidden a magnet in his chest—he felt pulled back to this place and its as-yet-undiscovered secrets.
A buzz in his pocket jarred Dan out of his thoughts. He pulled out his phone to find a new text message from Sandy.
Hey! Make it to Jordan’s safely? Just checking in. Have fun on your visit!
Dan chewed the inside of his cheek, his finger dodging over the screen to type back a vague if reassuring message.
“Jordan’s?” Jordan himself eyed the phone over Dan’s shoulder as Dan typed a quick reply. “What exactly did you tell your folks about this weekend?”
“Not the whole truth, if you want to be technical about it.” It hadn’t felt good to lie to his mom, but it hadn’t exactly been hard, either. “I mentioned you were checking out a tour at Georgetown this weekend and said I was going to tag along. And then I might have changed my flight with the emergency credit card.”
“At least I’m not the one obscuring my whereabouts this time,” Jordan said with a wry smile. “I’m sure we’ll have a blast at Georgetown. But seriously, Dan, let me know if you need help paying back that credit card.”
“You should’ve just told them the truth,” Abby said.
“Then I wouldn’t be here talking to you two. My parents don’t want me to have anything to do with this place.” And maybe they’re right.
They reached the top of the hill and Dan stopped abruptly, stunned as if someone had punched him in the gut and knocked out what little breath he had left.
“What the …” The words died on his lips.
They’re the same, he thought, staring dumbly at a sea of tents set up in the grassy central area of the campus. They’re just like in my dream. Or really, just like in the warden’s dream. And more alarming still: just like in their mysterious photos.
He tugged the picture out of his coat pocket and held it up for all of them to see. Jordan and Abby did the same, standing in a row and completing the panorama.
“What’s stronger than déjà vu?” Jordan whispered.
“Whatever this is,” Abby answered.
The carnival tents were only just visible through the gaps between brick buildings; from where they stood, they could see the broad orange, purple, and black stripes. Dan half expected to smell the scent of burned fuel—to see the fire breather from his dream, and the man on the stage … But all he could smell was the mud clinging to their shoes and the unidentifiable cooking-meat stench that always seemed to float over from the Commons.
Dan tucked the photo back into his jacket pocket.
“I wasn’t expecting a carnival,” Abby said. “Do you think it’s for the prospective students?”
“There was nothing about it in the pamphlet they sent out,” Jordan said, leading them forward and deeper into campus. Tall trees sprang up on either side of the path, their fall leaves shiny with wetness. “Kind of a big thing to leave out, don’t you think?”
Dan wouldn’t know; he hadn’t bothered to read the pamphlet. It said it was for prospective students, not people pretending to be prospective students.
“At least it’s twenty percent less creepy than the pictures,” Jordan muttered. “Can anyone explain to me why every vintage photo looks like they used the Macabre filter on Instagram?”
“Doesn’t look like they put up any rides, either,” Abby said, squinting toward the tents.
“You’re right.” Jordan shrugged. “No Ferris wheel … Kind of dumb to have a carnival with no rides. Still, seems like we should check it out anyway. Who knows, Dan, it might have a big, important clue.”
“If we have time,” Dan said, choosing to ignore Jordan’s sarcasm. “And only after we’ve checked out every address. We might not even be able to get to all of them, or we might have to split up.” It was then he realized neither of his friends was responding, and both were staring at the ground.
“Not trying to be a killjoy,” Dan assured them. “But that is why we’re here.”
“We’re here to figure out why we’re all having nightmares and hearing voices. We’re here so we can get some closure and move on with our lives.” Jordan zipped up his jacket against the wind as they walked. “That may or may not involve Felix’s scavenger hunt, Dan. You have to be open to the idea that maybe that kid is just off his nut and those houses don’t have anything creepier in them than Republican voters.”
“You think Felix just picked a bunch of random addresses for his own amusement? No way,” Dan insisted, reasonably, he thought. “I think whatever … possessed Felix … gave him these coordinates. They’re linked. I can feel it.”
“Yeah? Are your Super Warden powers activating?”
