The roller coaster above us sat still and silent, as though a brake were pulled mid-ride, screams hushed, people plucked away one by one. I hadn’t come here since before the park closed, so I only remembered the long lines and excited squeals of weekend visits, not the broken-down, overgrown wasteland that surrounded us now. The towering beams of the track surrounded us like ancient dinosaur bones on display at the history museum, and the paint on the bench we sat on disintegrated between my fingers like ash.
“I still can’t believe they shut this place down.” I looked across the small, sparkling lake that sat in the center of the abandoned amusement park. “My parents met here.” I expected Bradley to snort or at least roll his eyes, but it was my favorite story to listen to growing up. How my dad thought it was a good idea to impress a pretty girl by riding the Tilt-A-Whirl more times than he could count. He said he didn’t feel right for a week, but he got the girl. Apparently my mom couldn’t resist a good Tilt-A-Whirl challenge. I glanced over at Bradley, but his eyes were blank, fixed on some spot across the lake.
“We used to come here sometimes. Alistair and me.” He stood up and started walking. I followed. What else could I do? “We were first-years when they shut this place down, and the Brotherhood staged all kinds of stupid initiation stunts here.” He shook his head at the memory. “They got bored with it eventually, but we never did. There’s just something about it here.”
“Yeah, can’t say I really see it.” It just felt wrong to be in a place that should have been crowded with people on a bright spring day and have it be completely empty. The rides were all stopped in haphazard positions, like legs, arms, and necks splayed at unnatural angles. There were too many places to hide and all kinds of strange smells that whispered like ghosts of happier times. It just felt wrong.
“What do you know about the Sacramentum they referred to in the note? Factum whatsits?” I asked.
“Factum Virtus? It’s a feat of strength. No one has done one in years. The Brotherhood banned them in the ’60s when that kid got creamed by a train.”
I winced at his choice of words, thinking of Alistair and his car crash. Bradley must have had the same thought, because he froze mid-step and his skin turned an ugly gray color.
“Do you know who was involved?” I pulled a Seth and kept the questions coming in hopes that it might keep him distracted. Also, couldn’t hurt to get some more information. Whoever had sent that letter to Alistair had either wanted him very scared or very dead. Maybe they didn’t care which. But we had to find out who had done this to Alistair. And we had to find out why.
“You know how that stuff is. More legend than fact. I always figured it was something the older boys told us to make sure the hazing didn’t get out of hand. Whoever sent it wasn’t a Brother, I can tell you that much. They’re trying to scare us. Trying to keep us in our place.”
I thought of the Sisterhood, of Bethany and Taylor as they walked away triumphant after I inadvertently helped them destroy the very boy I stood beside. When would they stop? When would enough be enough?
Bradley stopped in front of a peeling wooden sign printed with “The Big Dipper” in peeling yellow paint. “Come on.” He grabbed my hand and started weaving between the old metal bars that led up to the roller coaster like a maze. I resisted the urge to swing my body along the bars as I’d done while waiting in relentless lines, anticipation bubbling with every inch forward. Now we could move freely, the bars containing nothing but air, and I wished for the lines.
By the time we made it up the ramp to the platform, we were both out of breath. We leaned over the edge of the railing and stared down at the remains of the park below us and the sparkling lake that glittered in the middle of it all.
“Kind of beautiful, right?” He nudged me with his elbow.
“Yeah, it kind of is.” My hand still burned where he’d held it. His fingers seared into my palms. Looking out over the empty expanse of the park reminded me that it was just the two of us here. No one had any idea where we were. It would take them days, maybe weeks to find us if we were to jump off the ledge.
My stomach dropped at the thought. There was nothing between me and a concrete nosedive except a thin bar of metal. And Bradley Farrow’s hand.
“Why would he have done it? The Factum Virtus, I mean?”
Bradley shook his head.
“It was his brother, right? The note said something about Porter.” I considered the words in the letter: A Brother will be sacrificed. It was no wonder Alistair had agreed to the challenge. Whether he and Porter hated each other or not, they were still brothers.
Bradley dropped my hand then and turned away from me completely. I’d pushed him too far. I knew it as soon as I said the word “Brother.” But if I was going to help Bradley, I needed to know everything. And I wanted to help him. I wanted to right the wrong of Alistair’s death, and I wanted to do it for Bradley. And for me.
“Not Porter.” Bradley turned to look at me then. The breeze kicked up, and some stray leaves left over from our long fall and winter swirled at our feet. “Me. The letter was referring to me.”