Invisible Terror Collection Part 31

Scott looked up, startled.

"I trust you're not too bored with our discussion." Still coming out of the daze, Scott answered, "Yes, sir." The cla.s.s chuckled.

"What?"

"I mean, no, sir. I mean, yes, sir, I'm not too bored."

"Good. Then do try to stay with us. Given your performance on last week's quiz, I think you'll find the investment well worth the effort."

"Yes, sir," Scott said, feeling his ears start to redden.

Mr. Patton returned to the theorem on the board, and Scott was grateful everyone redirected their attention to the front.

Everyone but Bonnie Eagleman.

Bonnie sat one row up and to the right. In the past she'd made every effort to let Scott know she was interested in him.

And, though flattered, Scott had made every effort to avoid her.

She was a good kid, just not his type. Now he felt her eyes on him, and she was probably grinning away with those braces.

It was irritating, and Scott was in no mood to deal with it. He'd just been chewed out by Patton and - after spending twenty minutes immersed in vengefulness - he realized he didn't have to put up with it. Ttocs certainly wouldn't.

"Hey," he whispered, motioning for her to come a little closer.

She obeyed, her heart obviously atwitter.

"I've got a question."

She waited eagerly.

"With all that metal in your mouth, when you sleep, does your head, like, point north?"

Bonnie's smile twitched slightly, then faded. The student in front snickered as Bonnie's cheeks turned crimson red and she looked back to the front.

It was one of Scott's better jabs, but he instantly regretted it.

He'd hurt her feelings. Actually, destroyed them was more like it. He hadn't meant to be cruel. He just wasn't thinking. Okay, okay, he was thinking, but more like the new Ttocs than Scott.

He frowned, trying to fight off the guilt and uneasiness.

What had happened? Being cruel wasn't his style. Not at all.

But it was Ttocs's style.

"So you think this stuff's, like, demonic?" Ryan asked.

Becka took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. The two were riding in Ryan's vintage Mustang and following Philip's Jeep up Highway 72.

"I don't know," she finally said. "You can't say everything is from the devil just because you don't understand it. That's stupid. I don't understand electricity, but that doesn't make it demonic."

Ryan nodded. "Even so, after all the stuff we've been through ... at the mansion, that so-called angel in Julie's room, Krissi's automatic writing ... and now whatever Philip claimed he saw ..."

Becka closed her eyes. Why did she always end up here, involved in something she didn't like? Pulled into the world of the supernatural?

She felt Ryan's hand take hers, and she looked at him. Emotions washed over her. She admired him so much - his honesty, his sensitivity ... and, of course, his looks didn't hurt, either.

Especially the way that thick black hair constantly fell into those gorgeous blue eyes.

He'd only been a Chris tian for a few weeks, but he'd been exposed to more spiritual warfare than most would have to face in a lifetime.

The thought didn't exactly thrill her.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"For what?"

"For you always being pulled into this sort of stuff." Not missing a beat, he flashed her his killer grin. "Seems a small price to pay for the company I get to keep." Becka couldn't help but smile. Once again that wonderful warmth spread through her body. What was with this guy?

Couldn't he see that she was just your basic n.o.body with your basic n.o.body figure and looks? And let's not forget that wonderful n.o.body hair ... thin, mousy brown, and unable to hold a style for more than thirty seconds.

He squeezed her hand. She gratefully returned it. Apparently she was a somebody to him.

Up ahead, the Jeep slowed and pulled off the road.

"Looks like we're here," Ryan said as he pulled in behind it.

The two climbed out of the Mustang and walked up to Philip and Krissi.

"It's pretty overgrown in there," Philip said, motioning to the brush-covered logging road.

"How far is it?" Ryan asked.

"'Bout half a mile. Hop in and we'll four-wheel it." Ryan and Becka climbed into the backseat. "What happened to your convertible?" Ryan asked.

"It's in the shop," Philip said. "My dad's letting me borrow this."

"Cool."

Philip dropped the Jeep into four-wheel drive, and they started the tooth-rattling, bone-jarring journey up the road.

Before too much silence could fill the car, Ryan asked, "It's still a little unclear to me. What exactly is it you two saw?"

"Philip saw it," Krissi corrected. "Not me."

"But ... you were with him, right?"

Krissi nodded. She looked straight ahead, searching the road.

"I just don't remember. The Ascension Lady says with that type of memory lapse, I'm probably repressing something."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Philip explained, "There are about ten hours of time that neither Krissi nor I can account for. One minute it was 8:20 at night, the next minute it was 6:30 in the morning."

"So how do you know you weren't dreaming?" Philip tried to smile. "What I saw last night - the lights, the field, the burning trees - it was no dream." Ryan frowned. "How can you be so sure?" He turned to Krissi. "And you don't remember any of it?"

"Not yet," Krissi said. "But I talked to the Ascension Lady, and she's going to hypnotize me and help me remember all the forgotten stuff."

Ryan and Becka exchanged uneasy glances. They remembered all too well what had happened when Becka had been hypnotized ... and the way she'd almost been killed because of it.

Becka leaned forward. She had promised herself not to talk during the trip, and definitely not to preach, but this was important. "Krissi?"

The girl turned, giving her half an ear.

"Hypnotism is kind of tricky. Are you sure that's something you want to go through with?"

Krissi's expression hardened. "Please - " But before she could continue, Philip hit the brakes and brought the Jeep to a sliding stop. "What in the world?"

"What's wrong?" Ryan asked.

"Up ahead ... lying in the road."

Ryan and Becka craned their necks to see what looked like a cow.

"Is it dead?" Krissi asked.

"Looks like." Philip opened his door and stepped out.

Krissi followed. "See, I told you I saw a cow." Ryan and Becka traded looks and climbed out after them.

"What's a cow doing all the way out here?" Ryan asked.

"That was my question," Philip said as he and Krissi continued in the lead. "In fact, that's exactly what I asked Krissi just before I saw the lights." They arrived at the cow and came to a stop. "Will you look at that." Ryan and Becka approached as Philip kneeled down to examine the carca.s.s. "It's been gutted."

"What?" Ryan asked.

"See for yourself." Philip picked up a nearby stick and pushed a flap of skin aside. "All of its organs, they've been removed." The four stared in silence.

"And look at those incisions," Ryan said, kneeling down to join him. He motioned to the cut sections in the hide. "Look how clean they are."

Philip nodded. "They've been burned in, like with a laser or something."

Becka tried her best to stay calm, but once again she could feel an icy chill grip her shoulders. She looked up, searching the woods, peering down the road. Something was there. She knew it.

"You think someone, like, butchered it?" Krissi asked. "For the meat?"

"That's a possibility," Philip said.

Ryan shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"There's no blood. Do you see any blood around?" The question brought Becka's attention back to the carca.s.s.

She searched the ground. Ryan was right. There wasn't a drop of blood to be found anywhere.

"Guys ..." It was Krissi. Her voice sounded very thin, very frightened. Becka saw she was trembling and looking down the road. "I, uh, I don't ... I don't think we should go any farther. I don't think we should go in there at all." The other three looked at Krissi, exchanged glances, then followed her gaze down the road.

Chapter 4.

BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY, BEAM ME UP! SQUAWK. BEAM.

ME UP!"

Scott reached over and stroked Cornelius with the eraser tip of his pencil. The parrot craned his neck this way and that, making sure Scott hit all the right spots.

Ah, ecstasy ...

It was 5:30 p.m. Friday night. Scott didn't have to be at Hubert's for the next campaign of Crypts and Wizards until 7:00. On his desk was a tablet of carefully planned characteristics for the new and improved Ttocs. It had taken him most of the afternoon to create this new character, and for the most part he was happy.

For the most part.

Still ... something was gnawing at him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with the game. And with the way he had acted toward Bonnie Eagleman in geometry cla.s.s.

He reached over to flip on the computer. A moment later he was in the chat room. He was hoping to connect with Z, the mysterious figure who had taken him and Becka under his wing.

There seemed to be nothing Z didn't know - even in personal areas where he shouldn't know anything. That's what made him so interesting.

And, at times, so spooky.

Z didn't normally log on until 9:00 p.m., but from time to time he could be contacted earlier. Scott was hoping this would be one of those times. A moment later the screen came up, and he typed in his handle: This is New Kid. Z, are you there?

He waited. Finally the words formed: h.e.l.lo, New Kid. Are you enjoying the game?

Scott sucked in his breath. No matter how many times Z pulled stunts like that, it still gave him the w.i.l.l.i.e.s. He wanted to ask Z how he got his information, but he knew Z's response would be the same as always: silence.

Reluctantly, Scott plowed ahead with his next question: What do you know about role-playing games?