Decay Page 9

  He shook his head. “You called me Lanny.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Only one person has ever used that as a nickname for me.” He clenched his fists at his sides. “How did you know, and why are you doing this to me?”

  “Doing what to you?” she asked in a voice all too chipper to be genuine.

  He growled quietly. “Don't play dumb. How do you know?”

  She lay back on her bed and softly moaned with pleasure. Orlando was officially disturbed. “I know a lot about you,” she said. “There's a teeny-tiny scar on your left ankle from when you used a sled for a snowboard in your backyard. You and Dally liked to play at the pond a lot by his house, even though your parents forbade you to go there. His parents worked with yours, right? They were friends long before you were even born. You grew up in the same neighborhood. His house used to be just down the street from yours.”

  Orlando was stunned into silence. For the first time in a long while, no words were forming in his mind. All he could do was shake his head in complete disbelief. Nia stretched as if nothing were going on, before she continued to tell his life story.

  “It wasn't your fault he got picked on so much in school. You can't control the other guys from the football team, those rich snobs. There's only so much you can do to distract closed minded individuals like Jesse Jordan and his gang. Because you wanted to be a part of the team, you couldn't shut them out completely. He understood that. For all of the ways you two were similar, you also had a lot of differences, but it never stopped you from being best friends, did it?”

  “No,” he whispered. “It never did.”

  “But it is your fault he died,” she said coldly and sat up, her gaze was just as icy as her tone, and it struck him at his core to where he was positive he could no longer breathe. “No, you didn't drag the razor blade over his wrists, but Dally needed you. You promised to be there for him, and you blew him off for a group of stuck up jocks, a flaky deceitful girlfriend who only used you for your money, and a lame party where you had your first taste of alcohol. Ace. With friends like you, who needs enemies right?”

  Tears filled his eyes as that fateful night crashed into his mind. He thought about it often. It changed him. In a lot of ways, it had saved him from a path of destruction, but was the cost worth it? Dallas killing himself over Orlando's mistake didn't seem like a fair price to pay for a reality check.

  Orlando turned away from her, determined to not let her see him cry. He quickly blinked back the tears before staring at the blank monitor of her computer. “You need to tell me how you know all of this, now.”

  “Did I strike a nerve?” she asked coyly. “Oops.” She put her hands on his shoulders and gave them a squeeze, causing him to wince. “Do you believe in life after death, Orly?”

  “Should I?” he asked, his voice venomous.

  “I think so, but I'll leave that for you to decide.” She moved in closer, her lips were right next to his ear. “If you could bring him back, would you?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation.

  “Would you do anything to make it happen?”

  “Yes!” He'd have gladly traded places with Dallas a long time ago, if he thought it would make a difference.

  She moved one of her hands down the side of his arm and then grasped his hand ever so gently. “Then let's go on a little field trip. I promise you'll get all of your answers and then some.”

  With a swallow, he nodded. He didn't know if he could trust her, but curiosity and duty to the best friend he ever had, urged him to go along with whatever game she was playing with his mind. Besides, Nia may be crazy, but she wasn't dangerous...was she? Orlando looked her up and down, sizing her up in his mind. I could take her on if need be. I have a secret weapon after all. His telekinesis was all he needed to feel secure in his decision. I need to know why she's doing this.

  “Can you drive us to Hillside Cemetery?” she asked.

  Orlando nodded. “Pretty sure I can.” Not so sure I want to. But they got into his car anyway, and twenty minutes later he was standing in front of the final resting place of his best friend.

  “Don't come out this way much, do you?” she asked with a sneer, like she wanted to kick him while he was already down.

  He shoved his hands into his coat pocket. “Actually, I come out once a month, sometimes twice.” Don't let her make you feel bad anymore. At the very least, don't let her see she's hurting you. He knew he probably could have visited more often, but that felt an awful lot like dwelling. Dallas would have told him to 'get over it' if he started to do that. At the same time, he couldn't not come by for a visit. Sometimes, he felt like Dallas was the only person he could talk to, even if the guy was dead.

  Nia raised both of her eyebrows as if she were surprised by his answer. She walked to the door of the mausoleum.

  “They always lock it up in October right before Halloween to keep pranksters out. I think they forgot to undo it again because it's−” His jaw dropped when she pulled out a brass key. “How do you...?”

  She opened the door and held it for him, waving for him to go through it first. When he did, he stopped, stumbling backward a few steps. Dallas sat on the marble encasing of his coffin, looking as alive as Orlando had last seen him two years ago. He wore a winter hat, a scarf around his neck, and gloves on his hands as if he were ready to go out and play in the snow. Dallas didn't have a jacket, however, which was odd since it was close to below freezing outside. Not quite as cold inside of the mausoleum given the temperature regulations, but it was still cold enough where he'd need to have on more than a long sleeved T-shirt and jeans.

  “I...you...how...?” Orlando managed to ask.

  “Hey,” Dallas said.

  “H-hey...” It took a moment for Orlando to find his voice. His mouth was completely dry, and tears once more filled his eyes. “I thought...”

  “I am...was...am?” Dallas shifted his gaze to Nia. “What's the right terminology I should be using? Not quite dead, but not exactly living? Zombie? Undead? We'll go with zombie because, let's be honest, that's super cool sounding.”

  “You always liked those,” Orlando managed. And now I see why Nia has a collection of zombie art hanging on her bedroom walls. He shook his head and asked the question that was really plaguing his mind. “What's going on?”

  The reanimated dead would have been something Orlando never would have believed, if it had happened three months ago. It still seemed like a far-fetched idea, but was it any more so than aliens waging war on Earth? Anything could be possible.

  Dallas hopped off of his seat and walked toward his friend. He was smiling, which was the last thing Orlando expected to him do. Ever since Dallas had died, Orlando had imagined them meeting again with a lot more hostility. Why wasn't he angry? Lashing out? Punching Orlando? At the very least he should have been giving out a piece of his mind. Not smiling.

  “You've filled out, but you didn't get a whole lot taller,” Dallas said. “And what's with all of the hair dye? Tired of being blond?”

  “Something like that,” Orlando choked out. When his friend put a hand on his shoulder, Orlando lost it, and the tears began to flow. He felt pathetic, but there was no way he could hold them back any longer. The emotions were far too overwhelming.

  “Yes, this is really happening,” Dallas said, as if he could read Orlando's mind. “We have lots of time to catch up, to talk, to explain, but right now I need your help. You're the only one who can help bring me back to life completely.”

  Orlando nodded vigorously, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. “Of course. Anything. I'll do it. I promise.”

  “It might hurt.”

  “I don't care.”

  “It could kill you,” Dallas said quietly.

  “I. Don't. Care!”

  “No need to get feisty, I just wanted to make sure you understood all of the consequences before getting involved.”

  Orlando shook his head. “None of that matters. Wh
atever it takes, it'll get done.”

  Nia put her hands firmly against Orlando's back and pushed him into Dallas. Before he could ask what was going on, he began to feel lightheaded and his knees became like jelly. He collapsed from his own weight and stared up at Dallas, eyes wide with confusion. There was still so much he didn't understand, so much he needed to know. Before Orlando could say anything, his body became cold, and he fell unconscious.

  * * * * *

  There was no way of telling how long he was out. It could have been minutes, hours, even days. When he woke up, he was covered in thick blankets, his head resting on a pillow comfortably. A comfort he didn't feel he deserved, but he was too tired to argue. Dallas was nearby, reading a book. Orlando tried to shift his body, so he could sit up and have a better view of where he was, but as he did so, he noticed one of his legs was bare and taped to Dallas's also bare leg.

  “What...?” he attempted to ask, but his mouth was dry.

  “We need to maintain physical contact for this to work. I'm not sure how long it will take. You're tired because the life inside of you is essentially being given to me. Cool huh?” Dallas said.

  Not exactly, but I did say I would do anything−even die−if that's what it would take. “Good...to know...”

  “Nia is taking care of all the details for you, so you don't need to leave until it's done. Go back to sleep. When you wake up again, I think it'll be a better time to talk.”

  Orlando managed a nod as another wave of exhaustion washed over him. He wanted to tell Dallas that Nia didn't have to bother coming up with a story. Nobody would be missing him. Nobody was around to miss him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cadence spent the entire weekend bawling her eyes out. Nothing could console her, not even a pint of her favorite ice cream. She stayed far away from her mother, not wanting to deal with the 'I told you so' speech that Cadence knew was being formed in the woman's mind. It was written all over her face. She had been prepared for things to fall south between her daughter and JD, Cadence was sure of it. Otherwise she wouldn't have reacted so calmly to Cadence's pain. The conclusions Cadence was coming to when it came to her relationship with JD were frightening and depressing. Things between the two of them would never be the same again, and it was all her fault.

  By the time Monday rolled around, she was missing him as if he were her air, and she hated herself for it. When Cadence had arrived at school in the morning, she'd found balloons and shiny heart wrapping paper decorating her locker. Inside there was breakfast waiting for her in the form of chocolate covered donuts.

  “JD...” she whispered and shook her head.

  By far, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. But she avoided him like he had a flesh eating bacteria. If she saw him in the hallway, she immediately found a new path to take to class. She’d made sure she had everything she'd need for the day in her bag, so she wouldn't be caught at her locker. There was no way he could catch her, or so she thought. She couldn't avoid him in the class they had together, however.

  Her lunch threatened to come up again when she saw him standing outside of the door. He wore a white shirt with a giant heart in the middle, a red sash that read “Cupid” on it, and in his hands was a sheet of heart stickers that he handed out to all of the students who passed by. One of them was Marcella.

  Cadence growled and stomped past him. He grabbed hold of her arm and offered her a large heart shaped cookie.

  “For you, my heart. I know it seems cannibalistic and gross, but then it'll be inside of you always.” He smiled, beautifully, and she had a hard time saying no.

  “It seems you've already been giving parts of yourself away today,” she said, gesturing at the stickers.

  He put the cookie into her hands. “But not my heart. I−”

  “Cadence Sinclair, James-Deacon Smith, and Angela Smith, please come to the guidance office immediately,” a voice said over the loudspeaker.

  She let out a soft sigh of relief and glanced at her teacher to make sure he knew she had at least been there. What she was being called down to the office for, she had no clue. Even more peculiar was the fact that JD and his sister had been asked to come as well. It couldn't be a coincidence, and that made her nervous.

  JD walked with her, and she was grateful that he didn't say a word to her as they went. Cadence didn't have the patience to deal with whatever possible speculation he may have been thinking anyway. He was always the guy who came up with wild stories and theories. When they arrived at the office, Angela was already there and busy picking at the nail polish on her fingers.

  “What do you think this is about?” JD asked in a whisper, taking a seat.

  Angela shrugged. “Beats me.”

  “Do you think something happened to Mom and Dad?”

  “Why would they bring Cadence?”

  “Moral support, duh.”

  His sister shook her head. “I don't think that's it.”

  “Alan?” Cadence asked, not wanting to voice the entire question that was on her mind. Angela caught on however and shrugged.

  “That's what I was thinking, but I don't get why he'd do things like this. You know, since he likes to be a little more incognito.”

  Had they been caught doing something wrong? The guidance counselor, Mr. Kalvin, stepped into the room and motioned for them to come back to his office. Inside was Orlando's sister, and she was crying. Cadence became nauseated with worry for her friend. What happened? What did you do Orly? The guy was usually smart, but he had a tendency to let his emotions get the better of him.

  “I'm sorry to call you out of class,” Orlando's older sister, Lyssa, said in-between sniffles. “But Orlando i-is missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?” JD asked, frowning deeply.

  “I haven't seen him since Saturday morning at breakfast, and that was only briefly because I was on my way out the door.” Lyssa dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I didn't even notice he was gone until I got a call from the school saying he never showed up to classes. They wanted to know if he was sick. When I called the police, they said that I have to wait until tomorrow morning to report him as missing, since I have no evidence that he actually disappeared before then. His car is in the garage, but some of his stuff is gone. Y-y-you're his closest friends. I was hoping you might know something. Again, I didn't mean to call you out of class, but...”

  Angela moved closer to her and hugged her. “This is way more important than school.”

  JD nodded. “I haven't seen him since Friday afternoon. We hung out for a little while.”

  “I was with him Friday night,” Angela added. “But he didn't say anything about going anywhere other than seeing another friend on Saturday. Did you talk to her?”

  With an all too familiar roll of her eyes, Lyssa scoffed. She and her brother were a lot more alike than they'd care to admit. “I could barely find you guys. The only thing he's told me about you is your names and that you used to go to school together here before the, um, incident.” She glanced at the guidance counselor and shifted in her chair, clearing her throat. “But I don't know who he hangs out with from his other school. I've never met his girlfriend−”

  “Ex,” Angela said quickly. “They're not dating anymore, but I know who she is. I can give you her phone number.”

  “Thank you,” Lyssa said, and her gaze went down to her hands. It broke Cadence's heart. Clearly, the young woman was placing a lot of blame on herself. Cadence wanted to say it wasn't her fault.

  Orlando was good at being aloof about his personal life. She didn't know the name of his ex-girlfriend either. Not her given name at least. She knew the girl was Sprout and attended the same school as him, and that she had a brother who was known as Bean. She definitely wouldn't have known they had broken up if he hadn't expressed such turmoil over the whole thing. He didn't like to talk about anything, not with her at least. Angela was obviously in the know.

  Lyssa blew her nose. “I was hoping maybe h
e had been staying with one of you, or skipping to hang out. If you hear anything, please let me know.”

  “Of course,” JD said.

  Angela scribbled a phone number onto a piece of paper. “This is Tait's number. She might know something.”

  “If you need a few minutes to yourselves, you can talk in the conference room. I'm sure this is very upsetting. Orlando may have left the school on not so pleasant terms, but he is a nice kid. I'm sure he appreciates how you've reached out to him,” Mr. Kalvin said. “Miss Holmes, I will be sure to alert the staff of this news and tell them to keep their eyes and ears open.”

  “Thank you,” Lyssa said.

  Cadence stood and took that as a good time to leave the office. She offered a small nod and a weak smile, and walked out the door. JD followed her while Angela lingered behind to talk with Lyssa some more. Cadence left the school office all together and started to roam the hallways of the massive high school. There was no hurry to get back to class, but she had no desire to talk inside of the conference room either. She didn't have a whole lot to say to begin with.

  “Man,” JD whispered and moved to her side. He put an arm around her shoulders. “What do you think is going on?”

  Shrugging, she tried to free herself of JD's grasp. He wouldn't let go. She forced his arm off of her with a shove that was gentler than she wanted to give him. “I have no idea, to be honest.”

  “Well do you think he ran away? Was kidnapped? Got hurt doing...stuff...for Alan?” JD asked in a hushed voice.

  “I said, I don't know!”

  “Aren't you supposed to have all of the answers?”

  She glared up at him. “Don't mock me right now. I'm still mad at you.”

  He let out a soft whistle. “Just trying to lighten the mood a little. I'm worried, and I'm not sure what to think here. Especially given his choice in significant others.”

  “We'll just have to inform Alan of what's going on and start looking. Angela seemed to have a few clues. We can find him.”

  Taking her hand in his own, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay?”