The Haunted - Jessica Verday [16]
“Don’t be long, okay?”
“Of course, of course,” she said, but I knew her thoughts were already elsewhere.
The traffic cop was gone, and I had to wait for several cars to pass before I could cross the street to the Old Dutch Church. Entering the parking lot, I noticed that there were only a handful of cars left, and no one seemed to be around. I moved to the side of the church that was hidden from the main road and hopped up onto a low masonry rock wall that jutted out from the stone foundation.
It was quiet back here, and I had a full view of the older gravestones that made up this part of the cemetery. They were ornately carved and beautifully decorated with flowing cursive script that stood out in sharp relief against the granite. Many of the stones were doubles—final resting places for a husband and wife—and those always made my heart ache just a little bit.
I leaned back. The sun was peeking out from the clouds, and the rocks were pleasantly warm. I stretched my hands out behind me, feeling the contrasting smooth stone and rough mortar edges. Tipping my face upward, I closed my eyes. I was finally alone and comfortable.
A mosquito buzzed near my ear, and I swatted it away. I turned my head, thinking that it was just that. Nothing more than a bug.
But then I saw them.
A weird, shivery feeling passed through me, as goose bumps suddenly covered my whole body. My fingers tightened reflexively on the rocks, and I forced myself to relax. It’s just a couple of people. No big deal.
They were walking among the graves on the far side of the cemetery. Weaving in and out around them. As they came closer, I could see what they were wearing. It was… odd. Even in a town that has its fair share of Goths and vampire wannabes, they definitely stuck out.
The guy wore baggy black skater shorts with a wallet chain attached, several layered long-sleeved red and black shirts that looked way too hot for summer, and carefully smudged Johnny Depp guyliner. A black Mohawk was the crowning touch.
The girl had on a black-and-purple plaid miniskirt, torn fishnets, and biker boots laced with teal shoelaces that matched her mini tee. Her hair was shoulder length, neon purple, with the bottom a pale blond about six inches up.
I didn’t know either of them, so I stayed sitting, hoping that they would keep moving on.
But my gut told me they wouldn’t.
Pasting on the fake smile that had served me so well at the bridge ceremony, I waited for them. They got within arm’s length and then stopped.
Both of them were extremely pale. Their skin was almost translucent. And it had the strangest sheen to it. Like vellum paper. And I thought I was sun deficient. Their eyes were strange too. Very wide, and clear. If they had any hint of color to them, it was only the faintest shade of gray. They had to be brother and sister.
“Do you know where the nearest gas station is?” the girl asked. “I’m dying for a Coke.” Her voice was incredible. Absolutely crystalline. I had the strangest notion that she’d just sung her question to me, and I felt all shivery again. Then my head cleared, and I tried to hide my simultaneously awed and weirded-out feelings.
“It’s um… well, there’s um…” It was like all my sense of direction was gone. My brain felt hazy. I tried again. “There’s, um, a gas station a couple blocks up here on your right. Just keep following the sidewalk… I think.…”
The guy smiled at me, and the girl chirped her thanks. They both stared until I dropped my gaze.
“Do you live around here?” the songstress asked me.
“Yeah, I’m Abbey Browning.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.
She smiled, revealing a perfect row of dainty white teeth. “I’m Cacey, and this is Uri.” I nodded, wondering if I should, like, shake their hands or something. They both watched me with their pale eyes, and it was incredibly unnerving.
“You don’t really want a Coke, do you?” I said, not even realizing why I was saying it.
Uri shot a glance over at Cacey,