A Devil in Daylight
The Devil in Miss Drake’s Class, Book Two
Marcus Damanda
Evernight Teen, 163 pages
Horror/romantic elements
16+
due to violence and adult situations
“You will account for what you did to Audrey.”
After three months in the suicide prevention wing of St. George’s, Audrey
Bales is finally coming home. Enrolled at a new school, she plans to reinvent
herself with a new look, new friends, and a second chance to be just like
everyone else. But the kids who drove her over the edge aren’t through with her
yet.
And one of her new friends has an agenda all his own.
“You, and all the others.”
During the day, the halls of Battlefield High will echo with their
screams.
“It will never stop.”
And at night, their screams will be silenced.
“Until one of you ends it.”
Excerpt:
Audrey watched the knife go in.
Alex’s Swiss Army knife, from Scouts.
That’s right, sis, Alex’s ghost
said. You’re doing it. Good girl.
Blood welled up from her wrist, at
first in bubbles and droplets, then in a line.
Ignore the pain. Block it out. Deny
it, like it’s not even there.
And it wasn’t. Weird. This was
supposed to hurt.
Her reflection in the computer screen
showed black hair. And that, too, was weird. She hadn’t had black hair in
months. Not since her first days in the hospital.
Nor was she supposed to be
seeing him. She’d beaten him—banished him.
She had to saw to break the vein. A
small, red jet squirted over her keyboard.
On the screen, Val—her one-time best
friend—was reaching out to her. Audrey? Audrey, don’t be dumb. Come on.
Alex stopped talking, stopped
coaching. From behind, he held on to her shoulders and squeezed.
She still had the strength to use the
knife again, going down from the wrist. There was no pain, after all. She had
the strength for that and for one more thing.
She set down the knife in a puddle of
her own blood, then picked up her cell phone and took a picture, even as
her wrist squirted again.
She hooked the phone to a
USB cable and to the computer. She posted the picture, unhooked it,
and let it drop. It clattered off the side of the desk and onto the floor, but
Audrey didn’t even notice.
She tried to put her chin in her
right hand. She wanted to watch the responses. See what Val thought. See
what Maggie thought.
Maggie, who had started all of this.
Maggie, who had ruined Audrey’s life because she’d thought Audrey had been
ogling her in the locker room at school. Spoiled, rich little Maggie Lassiter,
with the angel earrings—it had been those Audrey had been staring
at—and the countless followers that Maggie called her friends. But it hadn’t
been enough. No, she had to steal Audrey’s friend, Valerie Mills.
Her only friend….
Putting her chin in her hand didn’t
quite work out. Her elbow slipped in the blood on her desk. She felt her face
hit the hard wooden corner of the desk on her way to the floor.
****
But instead of hitting the floor,
Audrey sat up in her own bed, awake and breathing hard and holding her left
wrist with her right hand.
She looked… scarred, but whole.
Her parents had purged her bedroom
nearly to emptiness, but her computer was still there, a shadow near the
window.
Audrey kicked her legs over the side
of the bed and went to it, powered on, and thumbed the monitor. And, amazingly,
she yawned, even as her heart began to settle back toward its normal speed and
rhythm.
She found her water bottle and
Geodon, and checked her clock as the computer slowly hummed to life. Yep, close
enough. She took her pill.
Taking a breath, she tried to access
her Twitter account.
Blocked.
Instagram, next.
Blocked.
Facebook.
Blocked.
She smiled, rather sleepily.
Everything was still normal. She’d just had to be sure.
Sunlight began to peek tentatively
through her window. Audrey set her chin in her right hand and waited for it.
Daylight could not come soon
enough.
****
Alastair Hutchinson lay flat on his
back on top of his perfectly made bed, but he did not sleep. Had not slept.
Never slept.
He watched the sunrise.
We should be looking, said one of the
voices that lived inside of him. We’re wasting time.
“Why look?” he asked. “There’s an
unsettled account at the school we’ll be attending. I’ve found everything we
need.”
Audrey is not an unsettled account,
the voices protested. She’s alive.
“I’m not talking about her,” Alastair
said. “You haven’t been paying attention. There’s another.” He laughed, softly.
“Three days from now, we’ll be sitting in her first period class.”
But not as Alastair Hutchinson, he
thought. No. As a name she’ll recognize.
The host stirred. We need to
move the line, said another voice. This isn’t helping.
“I’ve got that covered too,” said
Alastair. “You won’t have to wait long. Trust me.”
I find him at the county reservoir, his dirtbike on
its kickstand. He’s leaning up against the tree where it’s parked. Even as I
put the emergency brake on, he smiles at me—as though fully aware of the
inconvenience this location presents. The bike trail is not exactly made for
cars.
Jack is tall, thin. He wears a hoodie
sweatshirt and wire rim glasses. The black baseball cap he wears backward can
hardly contain the explosion of curly black hair underneath it, and cool blue
eyes peer out from wire-rimmed glasses.
The guardrail protects any travelers
against the one hundred foot fall to the iced-over lake below, which shimmers
orange and silver in the halflight of dusk.
He sits down against the tree as I exit the
car.
© I appreciate you taking the time to talk
to me. You were referred to me by your online friend.
JM: Alastair, yeah. You remember the conditions?
© Can’t post until three days have passed.
Not a problem. You can trust me.
JM: (smiling, seeming to search me with his
eyes): Oddly, I believe you. Okay. Let’s do this, then.
© You’re one of the new transfers to
Battlefield Secondary School. Four, all in a day, and three of you placed in
Miss Drake’s first period and homeroom. How’s school?
JM: I like it. I like it very much.
© Really? I heard you aren’t a very good
student.
JM (laughing): Every new school is a new
beginning.
© Who’s Alastair?
JM: Your source. Don’t ruin it. Ask what
you really want to ask.
© Well, you shared your first day with
Audrey Bales—
JM: And Toby DeSortio. Don’t forget about
him.
© Yes, “Toby.” (I have no idea who this
is.) But … you know why Audrey left Fairview High?
JM: Sure. Everyone does. But she doesn’t
know that I know, since I’m new. I’d like to keep it that way, for now.
© Right. Three days. All right, real
quick—tell me what you know about Toby, then.
JM: Freakshow. He’s been arrested. Didn’t
even make it to the end of Day One. He’s the one The Register scooped you on.
© The one who attacked the other boy at the
water fountain?
JM: The one at the water fountain is named
Matthew Black. Yes, him. Toby was very interested in Audrey until Matthew got
his attention.
© Got his attention?
JM: Yes. But not in a good way. Bullies
don’t get it, sometimes, until it’s too late. People can suck.
© Why was Toby interested in Audrey, do you
think?
JM: They had pain in common. Anger. Hurt.
Toby wanted to hurt others. Audrey wanted to hurt herself, at least at one
time. Maybe he thought it was a “bond” or something. Stupid.
© Are you interested in Audrey?
JM: Cetainly. But she’s younger than me.
I’m interested in her being well.
© Her wellbeing, you mean?
JM: Sure. That. I mean what I say the first
time I say it. Anyway, I want her to be left alone. She’ll never be well until
certain people learn to let her be.
© The Facebook Fifteen? The Battlefield
Four?
JM: Yeah, them. Whoever.
© But … you’ve only known her for a day.
Where is all this coming from?
JM: Must be my guardian angel kicking in.
© How did you come to Battlefield? Where
are you from?
[It’s very important to note that Jack’s
next response is completely unclouded by emotion. I considered going to the
police with the recording, but didn’t. I hope I’ve done the right thing.]
JM: I’m from New York. I moved here to live
with my Uncle Clay when the house burned down and I lost my family. And my dog.
© My god, I’m so—
JM: It’s okay. I have my uncle, and my new
cat. And I never had a dirtbike before, so that’s new.
© It’s just, I didn’t know.
JM: And now you do. Really, it’s my
advantage on Audrey. Everyone knows about her. No one knows about me. No one
knew about Toby.
© You want to help Audrey. Because she’s
hurt. And you’re hurting.
JM: You’re half-right. Look, I want to show
you something.
[Jack pulls a cellophane bag from his coat
pocket filled with the dead bodies of insects. Many of them are plastic-looking
husks. Others are half gone, as though pulled apart, or …]
JM: Really, I’m fine.
© Jack—
[Eating one.]
JM: Want?
[Holding out what looks to be a newly-dead
paper wasp.]
[end interview]
About the Author:
Marcus Damanda lives in Woodbridge,
Virginia with his cat, Shazam. At various times throughout his life, he played
bass guitar for the garage heavy metal band
Mother’s Day, wrote for The Dale
City Messenger, and published editorials in The Potomac News and The
Freelance Star. Currently, while not plotting his next foray into
fictitious suburban mayhem, he spoils his nieces and nephews and teaches middle
school English.
Find Marcus Damanda here:
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