The rest of the day dragged by. After school, Pogue, Reid and Tyler came over to our place. It was not raining, so we decided to shoot hoops around back.
"What do you think the provost wanted from Chase?" I asked.
"I don't know," said Pogue, taking a shot. "I really don't care. I don't even like the guy."
"Why not?" demanded Reid.
"He just looks like he's hiding something," said Pogue. "And he's so cocky…gosh, I don't know! He just irritates me."
"Is it because Kate likes hanging with him?" asked Tyler slyly, dribbling away quickly before Pogue could send his ball towards his face.
"Shut up. I—I already asked her about that. Kate just thinks I'm jealous."
"Well, you are," I said. "Hey, don't look at me that way! You know you have issues with jealousy!"
He muttered something unintelligible. Throughout our little spazz, Caleb stayed silent. A few minutes later, Tyler got a call from his mother asking him to come home. Reid left, too, probably because it'd started to rain.
Caleb, Pogue and I moved inside. Mother wasn't home. I went into the living room and put in the first Underworld movie and flopped on the couch. Caleb and Reid drifted in and slumped in the armchairs on either side of the couch. Pogue and I watched the movie intently—it was one of our group's favorites…it was cool to watch movies on other supernatural creatures that weren't witches, because then we couldn't judge the directors or make fun of the fake, Hollywood-esque myths—but Caleb seemed oddly distracted. He got up and began to pace, his mind and eyes miles away. He eventually stopped in front of the TV, right in the middle of the best fight scene.
"Dude, Caleb, get out of the way!" Pogue hissed, he and I struggling to see around Caleb's tall form.
"What? Oh, sorry," he muttered. By the time he actually got out of the way, the fight was over. I groaned and reached for the remote and flicked the TV off. There was no point in watching it now. I sat up and faced Caleb.
"What is your problem?" I demanded.
"Chase," he groaned, slumping back down in his chair. "There's something about him—" Caleb locked eyes with Pogue— "that I just don't like. Not after the race today in the pool."
"Aw, don't be a sore loser," I said, though deep inside, I felt that Chase was a bit strange.
"I'm going to find out more about him," Caleb declared suddenly, rising to his feet.
"How?" demanded Pogue, on his feet as well. Even though I had no idea of what they were talking about, I stood up too, feeling a little out of place to be sitting.
"Just shut up and follow me."
I grabbed a hoodie, seeing the rain outside, and followed them. The next thing I knew, we'd pulled up in front of Spencer. It was dark and cloudy. Our only light was from the occasional flash of lightning. Spencer looked intimidating and dark in the eerie light. Like something out of a low-budget horror film, I smirked.
We slipped out of his car, which he'd parked in the parking lot so he didn't look out of place, and hurried out into the rain, trying to keep to the shadows, though there was only a small amount people outdoors because of the storm, and the few that were out there were hurrying under large black umbrellas towards shelter.
As we walked down an alley lined on one side by a dark, imposing brick wall and a tall, pointed-topped iron fence, Caleb's phone rang. Great, I thought. All of our attempts to remain unnoticed are gonna be for nothing if he doesn't shut his phone up.
He picked up his phone hurriedly. "Yeah?"
"Am I gonna see you tonight?" asked Sarah. The three of us were so close that we could hear everything.
"I hope so," Caleb responded. I snickered. He ignored me. "Uh, listen, I got something to do right now, but I'll give you a call soon, okay?"
"I'll be in my room."
"Okay." He hung up and slipped his phone in his pocket.
"What'd she say about Kate?" demanded Pogue, who was the farthest away from Caleb, even though it was claustrophobic how close the three of us were. "Why won't she call me back?"
"She's still pissed at you," I said, leaving the two of them and walking ahead. Caleb followed me and Pogue tagged along.
"And why are we doing this?" he asked.
"Cause I saw the darkling again," Caleb muttered, leaping fluidly over the fence.
Pogue and I looked through the gate at him, the iron now separating us.
"But I saw it, too! And so did Pogue! What's the big idea?" I exclaimed in a whisper.
"Because I want to learn more about Chase Collins."
"Yeah, but why break into the admission's office?" asked Pogue.
"I just told you," Caleb responded.
"Look," said Pogue, leaping over the fence, "I don't even like the guy."
"You've made that obvious," I snorted, leaping over with ease.
"Are you sure you're not just imagining this?" finished Pogue.
"I swear his eyes were as black as night in the pool today," Caleb said with an edge in his tone.
"You're just paranoid, Caleb," I said.
"We've come this far," Pogue said. "Might as well go through with it, or he'll never leave it be," he pointed out.
"Okay, okay," I sighed, slipping my hood over my head before we jogged out into the rain.
The rain was heavy and cold. I was soaked before we even got to the steps of the main building. Pogue looked around nervously and I watched behind us. Caleb's eyes became dark and soon the lock on the door rattled and it creaked open.
It was silent and dark when we slipped inside. It took a little while for my eyes to adjust but they did eventually. Pogue and I followed Caleb as he hurried down halls, up and down flights of stairs and into several different rooms when we made wrong turns.
Finally, I spotted the correct door. My eyes became black and then it opened with ease. Before long, the three of us were at separate file cabinets searching through records. Caleb used a flashlight he'd brought along and he had the best light compared to my phone and Pogue's iPod.
We searched intently for several minutes before Caleb spoke.
"I found something," he said.
Pogue and I left our cabinets and came over. From the light of Caleb's flashlight, I could see he held a newspaper article and a picture of three people: a middle-aged couple and a younger Chase. The title of the headline was written in bold black letters.
Prominent Couple Killed In Crash
"Dead in a car accident," Caleb murmured. "It says Chase's father just lost control."
I felt an immediate surge of sadness for Chase as I looked the article over. They were killed on July 14, a Friday. Poor guy, I thought. Maybe this was why he was a little out of touch…
Pogue was looking at previous school records and I was looking at his birth certificate. Chase's birth name—his full name—stuck out. Chase Goodwin Pope. . .
"Pogue," I whispered. "Look at this." I pointed to Chase's name and Pogue's eyes widened.
"His real name was Pope," Pogue said aloud. "Chase Goodwin Pope."
"I've heard that before," I said. "I think it's a name…"
Pogue and Caleb exchanged a look. They recognized it as well.
Pogue scanned the birth certificate again.
"He was born July 14, 1988," Pogue read on. "He was adopted when he was two after his birth mother died."
July 14…July 14…July 14…? "Wait, that's his birthday?" I asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Yeah," said Pogue. Caleb's face changed.
"His adoptive parents were killed on July 14," I said, vocalizing what we all were thinking.
"What year was he born again?" Caleb asked quickly, sensing we were onto something.
"1988," said Pogue.
Caleb looked over the paper and then up at us. "They died on his eighteenth birthday."
His words hung there, then slowly and sharply, began to sink in. The three of us shared a look of awe, surprise and fear as we absorbed Caleb's words.
Loud, heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor below. Caleb whipped his flashlight over to the door. My heart rate sped up. Caleb shone the light steadily for a moment before I pushed his hand down. The light would do nothing but increase our chances of getting caught.
The footsteps stopped then began to be more frequent as the came closer.
Pogue muttered some expletives and we realized the feet were coming up in our direction. They must've seen the light.
Our eyes went black and we lifted up into the air, hovering between the floor and the ceiling, closer to the latter, though.
Sure enough, seconds later, the door screeched open and a night watchman came in carrying a heavy, bright flashlight and wearing a look of suspicion. Please, oh pretty please, do not look up! I begged the guy.
He proceeded to look over the room thoroughly and he walked over to the file cabinet we'd been looking at. It was open, various papers askew. Caleb threw a look at me. This was not good.
The watchman closed the cabinet and looked around, shining his flashlight at every blessed thing in the whole freaking room.
He was turning towards the door when a few papers slipped from Pogue's hand and fluttered towards the ground. I made my eyes changed and stopped them just above the watchman's head.
After giving the room one final look, the guard left and locked the door behind him. We waited a few minutes to be safe before floating back towards the ground.
"Damn," Pogue exclaimed once we were on our feet again. "That was too freaking close."
"Yeah. Let's go," Caleb said.
We were on our way downstairs, trying to go quickly but quietly, our eyes scanning for any signs of other people, and all the while Caleb kept muttering.
"Goodwin Pope. Goodwin Pope. Goodwin Pope," he chanted. It was getting irritating when he stopped walking.
"I have heard that before. It is a name," he said. "I read it—we all did—in the Book of Damnation. That's where we've heard it before."
"Wasn't that some lady's name?" asked Pogue. "I think it was…"
I'd looked the book over recently. The name rung a bell, too. "I think the name started with an A," I said.
"Yeah, I think you're right," said Caleb. He began rattling off old-fashioned A names. "Alice, Anne, Agatha…"
"Angela," Pogue supplied.
"They didn't use the name Angela in the early 1600s," scoffed Caleb, rolling his eyes.
"Well, forgive me for trying to help," Pogue defended himself. "I haven't read the book since we were kids."
"Agnes," I whispered. That was it. That was the name. Pogue and Caleb, still debating over the popularity of random names beginning with A at different times in history, didn't hear me.
"Stop arguing," I snapped. "You're going to get us caught. I think I have the name."
That shut them up.
"It's Agnes," I said. "Agnes Goodwin Pope."
A look dawned on Caleb's face. "Of course! It is from the Book of Damnation! They used to call her Goody Pope…don't you remember her?"
Pogue shook his head. I vaguely understood what Caleb was saying. He saw our blank faces and exhaled. "Just call Reid and Tyler," he said.
Oooh, cliffhanger! Eh, not really, you all know what's going to happen. Well, kinda. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, however small. Reviews are always welcome!