Clawdeen punched at the bars, snarling, and paced her cell, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides. "Frankie!"
"Yeah?"
"What the hell? Do something!"
Frankie stared at her friend, at a loss. "What do you want me to do?"
Clawdeen stared down the hall, then pointed, looking at Frankie. "You hear that? That's my little sister."
"I can't hear it, Clawdeen. You can probably hear through their soundproofing."
"That's my little sister," she said again, her voice rising, "and she is SCREAMING."
"So?" Gorey stood, walking to the bars. "What do you want her to do? Do you think there's some rusty keyring on a sleeping guard in here somewhere, just waiting to be plucked up and used? She can't even short-circuit the power system. She tried, earlier."
"Damn it," Clawdeen said, and then, louder, "DAMN it!"
"Don't worry," Frankie said, her voice high and tight. "I'm sure this is all just a big misunderstanding. They'll let us go soon."
Gorey sighed, slumping against the bars. "Oh, I wish I was naive enough to believe you, Frankie. I wish I could call my daddy. He'd tear this place apart."
Clawdeen groaned, throwing herself down on her cot, and covered her ears, sobbing. "Just make it stop. Make it stop."
Scarah looked up as Van Hellscream entered. Her whole body stiffened. It was hard, at times, to focus in school, because of all the ambient thoughts carelessly thrown around; but this man seemed to be broadcasting, as if he hoped someone was listening. She cringed as he hefted his leather bag onto the table, and she cringed again when he smiled at her.
"Goodfellow tells me you're a telepath," he said. "A banshee, no less. Charming. How quaint."
He moved close to her, peering into her eyes with a brilliant otoscope, and forced her mouth open to look down her throat.
"Tell me the name of your family."
She sagged. "I can't. You know I cannot."
Van Hellscream nodded, smiling. "I know. But if you don't, I'm going to ruin you. Make a choice."
She watched him for a long moment. "What you did to that other girl.. you knew it was wrong. You're scared of him, aren't you?"
The man scoffed, opening up his bag, and began to remove various small tools and satchels. "I am frightened of no man, mortal or otherwise."
"Oh, but you're right scared of Officer Goodfellow, aren't you?"
He paused, looking up at her, and continued to lay out his paraphernalia across the tabletop. She'd missed the mark. It wasn't the officer who frightened him, but someone else, someone associated with Goodfellow. She chose another tactic, sweating, trying not to notice the glittering tools laid out on the table.
"You know he isn't what he seems. Do you know what he is?"
"Only a man." Van Hellscream held up what appeared to be a long, hollow needle and a small wedge-headed hammer. "Now I will ask you something. Do you recognize this?"
"No," she lied, jutting her chin out at him.
He walked close, holding the implements out for her to see. "These are lobotomy tools from the early 19th century. A smart girl like you knows what a lobotomy is, correct?"
She didn't answer, stricken into silence by the violent images in his mind, and the sense that he was eagerly anticipating his grisly work.
"Your brain would be invaluable to science," he said, walking to the sink in one corner of the room. "We could finally learn where telepathy is located in the brain, and how it can be developed."
"Oh, sure." She rolled her eyes, cocking an eyebrow at him. "I could tell you all that without the needles and hammers, if you'd only ask kindly."
He stared at her. Finished washing his hands, he donned a pair of thick leather gloves from his bag. "I am not the type of man who asks for anything, miss."
"No," she said, as he drew a long, carefully folded paper apron from his bag and proceeded to clip it around his neck. "I imagine you aren't, at that."
He picked up the trephine, advancing on her, and pulled at the apron's collar until it unfolded over the lower half of his face. "Now, I imagine this will hurt quite a lot. Luckily, you're the only telepath in the building."
Clawd thrashed out of the hedgerow, cursing, and held still, listening for activity. The massive house remained silent and dark. He watched the porch, expecting Draculaura's father to pop out at any moment, then crept step by step to the back of the house.
The light in her bedroom was on. He tried to tell himself her father was probably out, hunting down dinner. Kneeling, he scooped up a handful of pebbles from the rosebush bed and backed towards the hedgerow, aiming for her window.
It took three tosses, but the huge windows swung open and she leaned out, her face pinched and crabby. "Clawd!" she said in a hiss. "These windows scratch very easily! I have told you that!"
"Did you get my text?"
"Yes, I did." She looked back over her shoulder, then slumped against the windowsill. "Daddy's out getting dinner. He is really loving having his 'little princess' at home. I feel like Rapunzel, though. Ready to tear my own hair out with boredom."
"Get dressed."
She sighed down at him. "Clawd, I can't. I can't just sneak out without permission. He'd kill me."
"All right. I'm coming up."
"No! Clawd, no! Down! Sit!" She giggled, watching him, and gave another sigh. "Oh, you are so cute. All right. I'll be out in a minute. Don't go anywhere, Romeo."
He got comfortable beside the hedge, pulling out his phone to keep himself occupied. He checked the Ghostly Gossip, disappointed to see Spectra had posted the terrible picture she'd snapped earlier of himself and the guys in the catacombs. As he sat staring at it, the page updated, and he sucked in a breath. There was a new photo: Deuce and Rochelle on the third-floor stairs, apparently making out. "Stone Cold Cheaters Caught in the Act!" the headline screamed. "Can Cleo Compete with Scarisian Beauty?" He scowled, closing out the site, and sent a text to Jackson's number instead.
8:14pm - hey man u almost ready? gettin d right now
8:16pm - GETTIN D HUH YEEEAAAAHHHH
8:20pm - gdi holt d for draculaura are u ready or wat?
8:23pm - D 4 DRACULAURA YEEAAHH GET IT BOYYYY
8:25pm - u ass we will be there in ten you better be ready
8:27pm - NAH MAN BUSY GETTIN D
8:30pm - WE ALL BUSY GETTIN D NOW U R MISSIN OUT
8:32pm - PARTY STARTED EARLY ITS A GIANT D PARTY NOW
8:34pm - DJ HYDE IN DA HOUSE THROWIN D ALL NITE LONG
8:35pm - TAKIN D PICS FOR MA BOY JACKSON
8:36pm - i am this close to takin u out of my contacts hh srsly
8:37pm - WHERE ARE U
8:38pm - waiting at d's she is getting dressed
8:40pm - YEEEAAAHH
8:40pm - 1 new picture message
8:41pm - im not opening that shit hh
8:41pm - ITS MEGAMIND DUDE LOOK
8:42pm - BLUE IS YR FAV COLOR RIGHT?
"God damn it, Holt, I fucking hate you," Clawd said, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. His face felt hot and uncomfortable now. He looked up at her window, considered throwing another handful of rocks, and decided against it. He tried not to think about Draculaura getting (un)dressed. That didn't work so well, and he stood, clearing his throat, trying to get himself under control.
He heard the back door open, and pushed himself into the hedgerow, peering around the edge of the house.
"Clawd?"
"Hey, yo." He stepped out, all swag, and gave her a charming smile. "Damn, hon, you outdid yourself this time."
She primped, blushing. "This? Come on. You're just saying that to make me feel better."
"We've got to hurry."
"Well.." She looked back at the house, torn, but slid her hand into his. "OK. I'm ready. Let's go."
They jogged around the hedgerow, down the street past the Jekylls and the Steins, to where Clawd's car was parked. He swung the door open for her, noting as he did how sallow and sickly she looked under the streetlamp. He dispelled his building anxiety and hopped into the driver's seat, revving the engine, turning the radio down low.
"So? Where are we going? You never said."
"It's a surprise." He turned, grinning, and she settled back into her seat, content.
She opened her purse, digging through it, finally pulling out a baggie with cut veggies. "I am so hungry. Like, ridiculous hungry. Dad's got me on this new synthetics diet. It's so gross."
"Synthetics?"
She rolled her eyes, crunching into a baby carrot. "Fake.. you know. Vampire juice."
"Oh, right. Are you actually eating that junk?"
She shrugged. "I don't have much of a choice. Just the sight of the stuff makes me queasy." She hesitated, and he could tell she was holding back, not wanting to start an argument.
"Listen," he said, "about Friday night.."
"Oh, I know. I was a big baby. I'm sorry."
"No. Laura, I said some stuff that maybe got misinterpreted."
She bristled. "Misinterpreted? Just stop now. I can tell already this is going to be a fight. Can we just skip it and have a nice night? We don't even have to talk about anything serious. There's too much serious going on right now, anyhow. Like nobody can appreciate a decent manicure anymore. Let's just go, dance, chillax with our friends, you know. Have a good time. All right?"
He nodded, glancing at her, grinning. "All right. Sounds cool to me. You know, but if you want to talk.."
"Well, I don't."
"OK." He turned the wheel, swerving into the darkened lot, and she leaned forward in her seat, scowling out the window.
"Clawd.. is this the school?"
"No."
"Yes, it is. This is the back lot. You know, where nobody parks because of Mr Hackington's gross old truck? Eww, there it is. Look at it."
He pulled open her door, taking her hand as she got out. She continued staring at the ancient truck, appalled.
"Clawd, look at it. It's like a station wagon and a Camaro had a hideous deformed baby." She blinked. "Camaro, right? That's the nasty 1970s one everybody liked?"
"Yep. Right on." He linked his arm through hers, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and they walked through the lot to the back wall of the school, past fire doors and emergency exits.
"Why did you make me get all dressed up to come to the school?" She stared at the building, a sneer on her face. "It's all dark. Clawd, is this like some kind of weird date? I thought we were going out." She stopped, pulling back, nervous.
"We are. Come on." He reached out for her hands. "Trust me."
"All right, but if this turns out to suck, you are totes to blame." She allowed him to pull her close, his hand laying at her waist.
He found the door he'd propped open, and stuck his foot in the door, pulling it open and kicking the rock away. "Come on. Downstairs."
"Down?" She ducked under his arm, and he allowed the door to fall shut.
"Stay close. It's dark. The school's running on generator power right now."
"What?" She stumbled, and he caught her around the waist. They walked down the steps together, one at a time, laughing. "Why is it on emergency power? Clawd, what is going on?"
"Nothing, babe. Come on. It'll be great."
"You're being kind of creepy, you know."
"You love it." He slammed into the steel blast doors at the bottom of the stairs, and they gave way under his bulk. Now they were in a long hall cluttered with old sports equipment, bathed in the red glow of twin EXIT signs at each end. He took her hand, hurrying her through as the zombies began to shuffle forward, having heard the door thud open and shut. "Quick. In here."
They burst through the door at the end, and Clawd slammed the door shut, locking it.
"It's even darker in here," she said, whispering. "Why'd you lock it?"
A series of brilliant fluourescent lamps snapped on in the ceiling, illuminating a room the size of the gymnasium upstairs. Streamers and balloons hung from the exposed support beams, and two of the expensive lighting rigs from the clawditorium had been installed at either end of the room, creating swirling multi-colored patterns on the floor and walls.
"Don't want the zombies to mess up our groove," he said, and she stared at him. "Come on."
"Haven't started yet," Holt said, shouting to them as they crossed the floor, "but we will once the lighting is all set. Gotta create the mood."
"But.. but.." She stared, in a daze. "I heard there were hardly any students left. I heard the police came and arrested a bunch of people."
"Yeah. That happened." He handed her a cup of punch, grinning. "And the rest of us stayed here. We decided to throw a party tonight, since, uh.. since the police are supposed to be back tomorrow for the ones they haven't already taken."
Her eyes widened. She stared at him as he sipped punch. "And your plan is..?"
"We're not going to let them. We plan to fight."
"Oh, Clawd." She reached up to stroke his cheek. "That's so noble."
He grinned. "Uh, no, actually it's really, really stupid.. but I guess we can call it noble, for tonight."
