FORTY-TWO

I’D CLIMBED DOWN OFF the rock and was jogging back to my bike when I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. Towering in the distance on top of an enormous hill was a massive illuminated cross, tall as a high-rise building. It stood firm as a soldier against the dark backdrop of the night sky.

I wasn’t one to believe in signs, but that didn’t seem like a coincidence.

I rushed to my motel room and threw everything in my bag. It was nearly five in the morning, but I texted Ray Anne anyway: So sorry I left you. I’m coming home. Whatever happens tomorrow, I’ll be there with you. I won’t let you down this time.

It was around seven in the morning when I finally turned onto my street, too full of adrenaline to feel the effects of no sleep. There stood Ray Anne, in my driveway, shielding her eyes from the sun. She waved like a spaz the instant she saw me. I parked, then hurried toward her, grabbing her and hugging her tight. I let go fast, though, and stepped back. I still felt hideous. “I know I look horrible to you.”

“Don’t say that.” She moved close to me again. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

I wasn’t expecting that kind of welcome, not after the way I’d left her.

“I’m sorry I walked out on you, Ray. Especially now, when you need me the most. That was wrong. I was wrong.”

Her response was like a splash of cool water across my thirsty soul: “All is forgiven, Owen.”

I stood there, gazing down into her adorable face, blown away by her mercy. I reached over and slid my fingers between hers. “You’re my favorite person in the whole world, Ray.”

That’s when my mom came flying out of the house.

“Owen James Edmonds, where have you been?” She pointed in my face.

“Mom, I —”

“I just got off the phone with the police. I was begging them to start looking for you!”

I was still furious with her —couldn’t even bring myself to look at her —but to get her off my back, I swore I’d never disappear like that again.

Minutes later, Ray Anne and I were in her car, headed toward our school. She reached from the driver’s seat and touched a gentle finger to a bruise on my cheek. The swelling in my lip had gone down, but the cuts were still stinging, and my left eye had dark purple under it.

“Why’d they want to hurt you?”

I instinctively lowered my head. “They blame me for Walt and Marshall.” It was awkward bringing up their names with her. “You know I never meant for them to . . .”

She rested her hand on the middle console over mine. “Of course.”

I exhaled, hoping to never bring it up again. That lasted about a second.

“I’ve been thinking about the well, Owen. How drinking from it affects people. And I think it comes down to motive.”

Interesting. In all the craziness, I hadn’t had time to fill her in on what the old man had told me, yet here she was, piecing things together on her own.

“Think about it,” she said. “Why’d you drink the water in the first place?”

I really did have to think about it. “The old man said I’d get answers. I wanted to know the truth.”

“A pure motive, right?”

I nodded.

“So, why do you think Walt and Marshall drank it?”

The horrid memory was as fresh as the wounds on my face, but even more painful. The insults they’d thrown at me. The fatal water I’d handed them in return. “It was about showing me up, I guess. And proving how brave they were.” I angled toward her. “What about you? Why’d you drink it?”

She looked at me. “So I could help you. Because I care about you.”

My stomach dropped like I’d leaped out of an airplane.

“Get it?”

“Get what?” Her sweet comment had derailed my concentration.

“You and I drank the water for selfless reasons, but Walt and Marshall’s motive was self-centered. I’m not saying they deserved to die —not at all —but the motive makes all the difference, I think.”

“But how could motive affect a person’s bodily response to a substance?”

“You still don’t understand?”

I really didn’t.

“Whatever’s in that water isn’t physical, Owen. It’s spiritual —different from natural laws.”

She acted like there was nothing even slightly strange about what she’d just said and I was dense for not picking up on it too.

“It’s like this.” It was all she could do to keep her hands on the steering wheel. “Drink the water with a pure heart? You’re exposed to the truth. Drink it with the wrong heart? The truth exposes you.”

I was impressed, but before I could say it —

“I know what I’m talking about.” She lifted her chin in total confidence —a Ray Anne trademark I found irresistibly attractive.

“By the way,” she said, “I spoke with several Lights at school, and I told them to be on alert today, in case I need them.”

“Didn’t they want to know why?”

“Of course. I told them I could sense evil forces and I might need their help warding them off.”

“And they believed you?”

“Well, yeah. They’re Lights. It’s the shackled ones who don’t believe.”

Her comment socked me in the gut, but I knew it was true.

Ray Anne made the final turn on the way to our school.

“How’s your stomach?” I asked.

“It quit hurting yesterday.”

I was happy for her. My stomach had never shed the queasy chill.

The closer we got to Masonville High, the more my nerves kicked in. Ray Anne started taking long, drawn-out breaths.

I suddenly second-guessed bringing her here. I understood that out of the two of us, she was much more equipped to stand up to the enemy, but if things went tragically wrong today —if she got hurt because of me, again —I’d never recover.

“Ray Anne, maybe you should let me do this. Alone.”

She pressed down harder on the gas pedal. “You need me today, Owen.”

We were nearly to the school when I asked her to pull over. She stopped and looked up at me. “I need you tomorrow, too, Ray.” I cupped her face. “And every day after that. So be careful, all right?”

She nodded, then cut back fast into the flow of traffic.

It occurred to me that maybe we’d read too much into the Creeper notes —misinterpreted them completely, and there was no attack at all planned for today. But one glance at our school, and there was no doubt. Something was definitely going down here.

Something catastrophic.