She waited another hour after he set off down theroad, heading east-doing what, she had no idea. There
was nothing that way except two creeks andlots of trees. And her house. She hoped he was goingto try
to walk into town, and that he didn't realize how far it was.
All right, he's gone, now forget about him. You'vegot a job to do, remember? A slightly dangerous one.
And he's not involved. I don't believe he knows anything about what happened to Mrs. B.
She got the shovel and started down the road west.As she walked she found that she was able to put
Ash out of her mind completely. Because all she could think of was what was waiting ahead.
I'm not scared to do it; I'm not scared, I'm notscared.... OfcourseI'm scared.
But being scared was good, it would make her careful. She would do this job quickly and quietly. In
through the gap in the hedge, a little fast work with the shovel, out again before anybody saw her.
She tried not to picture what she was going to findwith that shovel if she was right.
She approachedBurdock Farm cautiously, going north and then doubling back southeast to come in
through the back property. The farmland had gone wild here, taken over by poison oak, beargrass, and
dodder, besides the inevitable blackberry bushes and gorse. Tan oaks and chinquapins were moving in.
Sometime soon these pastures would be forest.
I'm not sure I believe I'm doing this, MaryLynnette thought as she reached the hedge that surrounded the
garden. But the strange thing was that she didbelieve it. She was going to vandalize a neighbor's property
and probably look at a dead bodyand she was surprisingly cool about it. Scared but not panicked.
Maybe there was more hidden inside her than she realized.
I may not be who I've always thought I am.
The garden was dark and fragrant. It wasn't theirises and daffodils Mrs. B. had planted; it wasn't the
fireweed and bleeding heart that were growing wild. It was the goats.
Mary-Lynnette stuck to the perimeter of the hedge,eyes on the tall, upright silhouette of the farmhouse.
There were only two windows lit.
Please don't let them see me and please don't letme make a noise.
Still looking at the house, she walked slowly, taking careful baby steps to the place where the earth was
disturbed. The first couple of swipes with the shovel hardly moved the soil.
Okay. Put a little conviction in it. And don't watch the house; there's no point. If they look out, they're
going to see you, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Just as she put her foot on the shovel, somethingwent hooshin the rhododendrons behind her.
Crouched over her shovel,Mary-Lynnette froze.
Stop worrying, she told herself. That's not the sisters. It's not Ash coming back. That's an animal.
She listened. A mournful maaaa came from the goat shed.
It wasn't anything. It was a rabbit. Dig!
She got out a spadeful of dirt-and then she heardit again.
Hoosh.
A snuffling sound. Then a rustling. Definitely an animal. But if it was a rabbit, it was an awfully loud one.
Who cares what it is? Mary-Lynnette told herself.There aren't any dangerous animalsout here. And I'm
not afraid of the dark. It's my natural habitat. I love the night.
But tonight, somehow, she felt differently. Maybe it was just the scene with Ash that had shaken her,
made her feel confused and discontented. But just now she felt almost as if something was trying to tell
her that the dark wasn't any human's natural habitat. That she wasn't built for it, with her weak eyes and
her insensitive ears and dull nose. That she didn't belong.
Hoosh.
I may have rotten hearing, but I can hearthatjustfine. And it's big. Something big's sniffing around in
bushes.
What kind of big animal could be out here? Itwasn't a deer deer went snort-wheeze. It sounded larger
than a coyote, taller. A bear?
Then she heard a different sound the vigorousshaking of dry, leathery rhododendron leaves. In the dim
light from the house she couldseethe branches churning as something tried to emerge.
it's coming out.
Mary-Lynnette clutched her shovel and ran. Nottoward the gap in the hedge, not toward the housethey
were both too dangerous. She ran to the goat shed.
I can defend myself in here-keep it out---hit itwith the shovel....
The problem was that she couldn't see from in here.There were two windows in the shed, but between
dirt on the glass and the darkness outside, Mary-Lynnette couldn't make out anything. She couldn'teven
see the goats, although she could hear them.
Don't turn on the penlight. It'll just give awayyour position.
Holding absolutely still, she strained tohear any thing from outside.
Nothing.
Her nostrils were full of goat. The layers of oat straw and decomposing droppings on the floor were
smelly, and they kept the shed too warm. Her palms were sweating as she gripped the shovel.
I've never hit anybody ... not since Mark and Iwere kids fighting ... but, heck, I kicked a strangerthis
morning... .
She hoped the potential for violence would comeout now when she needed it.
A goat nudged her shoulder.Mary-Lynnette shrugged it away. The other goat bleated suddenlyand she
bit her lip.
Oh, God-I heard something out there. The goatheard it, too.
She could taste her bitten lip. It was like sucking on a penny. Blood tasted like copper, which, she
realizedsuddenly, tasted like fear.
Something opened the shed door.
What happened then was that Mary-Lynnette
Something unholy was after her. Something thatsniffed like an animal but could open doors like ahuman.
She couldn't see what it was-just a shadowdarkness against darkness. She didn't think ofturning on the
penlight-her only impulse was to smash out with the shovel now, to get ft before ft could get her. She was
tingling with the instinct forpure, primordial violence.
Instead, she managed to hiss, "Who is ft? Who'sthere?"
A familiar voice said,"Iknew you were going to do this. I've been lookingeverywherefor you."
"Oh,God, Mark." Mary-Lynnette sagged against wall of the shed, letting go of the shovel.
The goats were both bleating. Mary-Lynnette's earswere ringing. Mark shuffled farther in.
"Jeez, this place smells. What are you doing inhere?"
"Youjerk,"Mary-Lynnette said. "I almost brained you!"
0"You said you were forgetting all this crazy stuff. You lied to me."
"Mark, you don't ...We can talk later.... Did you hearanything out there?" She was trying to
gather her thoughts.
"Like what?" He was so calm. It made MaryLynnette feel vaguely foolish. Then his voice
sharpened. "Like a yowling?"
"No. Like a snuffling." Mary-Lynnette's breath was slowing.
"I didn't hear anything. We'd better get out ofhere. What are we supposed to say if Jade comes
out?"
Mary-Lynnette didn't know how to answer that. Mark was in a different world, a happy, shiny world
where the worst that could happen tonight was embarrassment.
Finally she said "Mark, listen to me. I'm your sister. I don't have any reason to lie to you, or playtricks
on you, or put down somebody you like. AndI don't just jump to conclusions; I don't imagine things. But
I'm telling you, absolutely seriously,that there is something weird going on with these girls."
Mark opened his mouth, but she went on relentlessly. "So now there are only two things you can
believe, and one is that I'm completely out of mymind, and the other is that it's true. Do you really think
I'm crazy?"
She was thinking of the past as she said it, of allthe nights they'd held on to each other when their mother
wassick, of the books she'd read out loud tohim, of the times she'd put Band-Aids on his scrapes and
extra cookies in his lunch. And somehow, even though it was dark, she could sense that Mark was
remembering, too. They'd shared so much. They would always be connected.
Finally Mark said quietly, "You're not crazy."
"Thank you."
"But I don't know what to think. Jade wouldn't hurtanybody. I justknow that. And since I met her
, ."Hepaused. "Mare, it's like now I know why I'm alive.She's different from any girl I've ever known.
She's ____ she's so brave, and so funny, and so ... herself."
And I thought it was the blond hair, MaryLynnette thought. Shows how shallow I am.
She was moved and surprised by the change in Mark-but mostly she was frightened. Frightenedsick.
Her cranky, cynical brother had found somebody to care about at last ... and the girl was probably
descended from Lucrezia Borgia.
And now, even though she couldn't see him, shecould hear earnest appeal in his voice. "Mare, can't we
just go home?"
Mary-Lynnette felt sicker.
She broke off and they both snapped their heads to look at the shed window. Outside a light had gone
on.
"Shut the door," Mary-Lynnette hissed, in a tone that made Mark dose the door to the shed
instantly.
"And be quiet,- she added, grabbing his arm and pulling him next to the wall. She looked
cautiously out the window.
Rowan came out of the back door first, followedbyjade,followed by Kestrel. Kestrel had a shovel.
Oh. My. God.
"What's happening?" Mark said, trying to get alook. Mary-Lynnette damped a hand over his
mouth.What was happening was that the girls were digging up the garden again.
She didn't see anything wrapped in garbage bags this time. So what were they doing? Destroying the
evidence? Were they going to take it into the houseand burn it, chop it up?
Her heart was pounding madly.
Mark had scooted up and was looking out. MaryLynnette heard him take a breath-and then choke.
Maybe he was trying to think of an innocent explanation for this. She squeezed his shoulder.
They both watched as the girls took turns with theshovel. Mary-Lynnette was impressed all over againat
how strong they were. Jade looked so fragile.
Every time one of the sisters glanced around the garden, Mary-Lynnette's heart skipped a beat. Don't
see us, don't hear us, don't catch us, she thought.
When a respectable mound of dirt had piled up, Rowan and Kestrel reached into the hole. They lifted
out the long garbage-bagged bundle Mary-Lynnettehad seen before. It seemed to be stiff-and surpris
ingly light.
For the first time, Mary-Lynnette wondered if it was too light to be a body. Or too stiff ... how longdid
rigor mortis last?
Mark's breathing was irregular, almost wheezing.The girls were carrying the bundle to the gap inthe
hedge.
Mark cursed.