The Secret Circle:
Out of the Darkness
The Secret Circle and its characters aren't mine – they belong to L. J. Smith and HarperCollins Publishers.
Chapter Eleven
Monday morning was cold and windy. The sun barely lightened the leaden sky, although sunrise was almost an hour ago. And nobody was waiting outside when Sean opened the garage door and took out his bike. He smiled. He shut the garage door, coasted down the gravel driveway, and turned onto Crowhaven Road, riding slowly down the hill.
A car came up behind him, and he flinched. He looked up. Chris and Doug grinned at him from their Suzuki Samurai as they passed him. Sean nodded at them. He realized how tightly he was holding the handlebars and made himself loosen his grip.
He was almost at the intersection with Marsh Street. The wind picked up. A car drove by, toward town. A pick-up truck followed. Sean grabbed the brakes and slowed the bike almost to a complete stop. He was shaking as he turned onto Marsh Street.
He was surprised to find himself nervous about riding near traffic. It had never bothered him before, not really. Not even when he first started riding to school. And he'd been riding to school since he was seven. He'd been riding alone almost every day this year, now that the senior Circle members – and Cassie – had their drivers' licenses and cars and motorcycle, and Laurel was taking zero period AP biology.
Just ride, he told himself angrily. It's not hard.
The Bianchi responded perfectly as he rode, springing ahead when he increased his cadence or shifted up, slowing when he downshifted or stopped pedaling; the brakes responded to the lightest touch. The bike remained steady despite the strength of the wind. The passing cars gave him plenty of room on the wide road. By the time he reached the hill, he'd almost relaxed. He rode up to the summit and stopped the bike just outside the gate.
The bike racks were almost empty. Only Laurel's bike and a few others were already inside. Three outsider girls, and four or five boys, were talking and laughing as they locked up their bikes.
Sean froze – too close to the gate. They would see him. And they'd jump out at him and hit him and then they'd grab him and he wouldn't be able to breathe and …
And they finished with their bikes and walked through the gate. They didn't seem to notice Sean as they walked by. Their conversation was banal as they passed him and walked up the path toward the school – Winter Break, basketball, and classes. Not Witches or witch-hunts, weapons, or plans to burn people at the stake.
Sean's legs weren't quite steady as he pushed his bike to a vacant rack. He sat next to the bike to take out his lock.
"What's the matter, isn't your broomstick working today?" a voice jeered.
Sean looked up. A slender girl, who would have been pretty had she worn a pleasanter expression, was walking past him toward a vacant rack. She was pushing an old department store ten-speed. She looked vaguely familiar – he must have seen her around school. Her voice wasn't filled with the cold, hard hatred he'd felt from the outsiders who'd attacked him, but with the familiar, disdainful tone that most outsiders – and some of the Circle, too – used when they spoke to him.
Sean grinned at her. "It was working fine the last time I checked – and my floor's all clean."
He shrugged when she rolled her eyes. He locked his bike and zipped his backpack shut. He pulled it on and headed toward the gate.
Faye and Suzan were standing outside the school's east entrance. "At least she didn't try to burn you at the stake," Suzan said.
Sean looked at her. "Not yet," he said.
* * *
The Circle had agreed to meet on the beach after school. Diana and Cassie were telling Sean, Melanie, and Suzan about their trip to San Francisco while they waited for everyone else to arrive.
Sean was barely listening. All day, at school, he'd felt eyes watching him. He thought he saw witch hunters in every corner and behind every door, waiting to jump out at him – until he turned and saw no one there. He thought he saw Kori and Jeffrey and Mr. Fogle, too; watching him with vacant or bewildered or accusatory eyes. He tried closing his own eyes and grounding himself, trying to get the memories back under control – but there were too many people around. Someone would come up behind him, or a locker would slam, or a door shut, or a bell ring, and he'd startle and open his eyes, and they'd still be there, watching him. Or he'd see Kori's body lying still, half hidden by shrubs at the bottom of the hill, or Mr. Fogle's hand poking out of the pile of rock, or Jeffrey's body swinging back and forth, back and forth.
Even sitting in the back of the classrooms, he couldn't concentrate, not even on homework or a novel or a crossword puzzle. And he was so tense that he couldn't write – his hand shook too badly.
And then, in algebra, they had a surprise quiz. Sean hadn't heard the teacher announce it at the beginning of class; he didn't know about it until the teacher started to hand out the papers. And he froze. His heart started racing. He felt a cold sweat break out. And he felt his breathing get faster and faster, and shallower and shallower. The words and numbers on the paper in front of him blurred together and went grey. The pencil dropped from his fingers and clattered loudly on the desk. He heard somebody in the distance, calling his name. And then everything went dark.
An osprey screamed, jarring him back to the present.
"Everybody's nervous – even the teachers," Laurel was saying.
Sean glanced at her. She was watching him. Probably everyone in the Circle knew by now what had happened. He felt himself flush. He looked away, absently watching a trio of gulls fly overhead.
"It's like they're waiting for us to … I don't know. To do something," Laurel said. "They're all watching us like we're bombs about to go off or something."
"Even Ms. Lanning and Mr. Humphries and the rest of the staff seem different," Diana said. "They're still polite, of course, but … distant."
"Not everyone's being polite," Laurel said. "Not the students, anyway. I heard Brant Hegerwood say something to Deborah at lunch today – I didn't catch the whole thing, but he said something about "demon spawn". Doug almost decked him.
Suzan smiled. "If he had, Deb would have decked him."
Laurel giggled. "That's probably why he stopped."
"It doesn't really matter if we and the outsiders are polite to each other. Just so long as nobody does anything – bad," Diana said. "And so far, nobody has been kidnapped or beaten or burned at the stake. Not this year. And nobody has started any fights."
"They want to, though. At least Portia does. If looks could kill, I for one would be history," Cassie said.
"Her brothers – Logan and Jordan, right?" Suzan glanced at Cassie, who nodded.
"They're still around. Deborah and Nick saw them on campus before school this morning."
"But they haven't been back to Crowhaven Road," Diana pointed out.
"They're waiting. Everybody is – just like us," Cassie said.
"Or they're getting ready for something," Suzan said absently.
* * *
Soon after the sun set, the other Circle members arrived at the beach. Faye, Diana, and Cassie told the others about their trip to San Francisco and their meeting with the principal-to-be. Everyone agreed that Ms. Jackson would probably be a good principal – better than Mr. Fogle; much better, of course, than Mr. Brunswick. It wasn't long before the conversation turned to the nearly inevitable topic of relations between Witch and outsider.
Deborah wasn't the only Club member an outsider had insulted, and nearly everyone had noticed outsiders' fear and hatred directed toward them. But no one knew whether or not the outsiders were going to pursue the witch hunt Mr. Brunswick had begun.
Conversation ceased as the moon rose, peeking up over the horizon and shining on the calm sea. The members of the Circle gathered around the small fire Cassie had lit, and Diana cast the circle. She said the incantations for a traditional full moon ceremony, and turned to Cassie.
Cassie held a small piece of polished jade up to the moonlight. She called on Earth, asking for patience and endurance regardless of what the outsiders might try. As she finished, she set the jade in a small wooden bowl beside the fire at the center of the circle. She turned to Diana and nodded to her.
Diana held a white dove's feather aloft. She called on Air, asking the wind and breezes to blow away the strife between Witch and outsider. She placed the feather in a second bowl, beside Cassie's.
Faye was next. She lit a red candle in her usual dramatic way, and called on Fire, asking for strength and determination. She set the candle in the sand.
Finally, Cassie raised a clear glass half-filled with sea-water. She called on Water, asking that the rain and snow and streams and ocean wash away troubles and sorrows. She set the glass beside Faye's candle.
Sean could feel the strength of the Earth, and the coolness of the wind, and the warmth of the fire, and he watched the tireless energy of the ocean as the waves rolled in and flowed back out.
Faye called the directions and closed the circle.
"The circle is closed, but unbroken. Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again," Diana said.
The others repeated her words.
Melanie poured water on the bonfire, carefully making sure that all of the embers were extinguished. The circle broke up, and the members made their way home.
Sean was asleep almost as soon as he lay down on the bed. That night, he slept without dreams. And, for once, the sun had already risen when he woke.
* * *
School wasn't any easier the next day. Sean hurried from one class to the next, talking to no-one, trying not to look at anyone, trying to ignore the outsiders' hostile eyes. He tried to stay away from any place that would remind him of Kori, or Jeffrey, or Mr. Fogle, desperately trying to escape the memories. He stayed away from the stairs and the granite outcrop in front of the school; he took the long way through the halls to avoid passing the custodian's office in C-wing – the one which led to the boiler room.
He sat in the back of his classes, near the door, so he wouldn't feel so many eyes watching him. He didn't listen to his teachers' lectures, fearing that they might say something that would trigger a memory. He tried to work on his homework instead, or read, or work on his mental shield. But he couldn't concentrate. At home, when he was alone, he could visualize the granite cave well enough now that it seemed tangible. He needed only to close his eyes for a moment before it appeared. But he still couldn't visualize the sensation of security and peace that the real cave gave him, and he couldn't visualize a tangible cave at all at school, or around the Circle, or around his father.
And he knew that even the outsiders could see his fear. He broke into a cold sweat, and his heart started pounding so loudly that he was sure everyone could hear it, just walking through the crowded hallways from one class to the next. He couldn't stop himself from startling every time a locker slammed or a door shut, a bell rang, or a person stepped out from behind a door or around a corner. And he couldn't stop himself from cringing away from every person who approached him or passed him from behind.
He didn't go to physics class. After lunch period ended and the halls emptied, he got on his bike and rode. He didn't know or care where he went – he just rode.
Sean realized with a start that he was on a rural road he didn't recognize. The sun was low on the horizon; it was nearly dark – and he hadn't put the lights on his bike. He stopped and opened his backpack. The lights weren't inside. Stupid. Real stupid.
He turned back the way he had come and rode to the east. The road passed several open fields and entered a wooded area. The moon hadn't risen yet, and it was almost too dark to see. It was getting colder, too. Even with his coat and gloves and the exercise, he was already shivering, and his hands were numb. He called on Fire, picturing the comfort of a warm fire burning steadily in a fireplace, drawing its heat inside his body. The heat warmed him – but only for a few minutes. He tried again, and again the warmth dissipated almost as soon as it arrived.
He was almost completely burnt out. He hadn't even brought any water with him, or anything to eat, to replenish his energy. He could try to ground himself, and call on Earth for its energy, but he doubted he'd be any more successful with that than he had been with Fire. He kept riding. After a long while, he saw lights ahead in the distance. He rode closer, and recognized the bridge between New Salem and the mainland. He crossed the bridge and rode through the town.
A motor broke the silence. Headlights lit the road. And brakes squealed. Doors were thrown open.
"What do you think you're doing out here?" Chris yelled. "Stop the bike! Get in the car!"
Sean shook his head and kept going.
The car accelerated past him and stopped again.
He tried to pull the brakes, but his numb fingers wouldn't cooperate.
Chris jumped out of the car and grabbed the handlebars, pulling the bike to a stop. "I told you to stop the bike!" he yelled. "Now get in the car!"
Sean cringed.
"Stop it, Chris," Laurel said.
Chris let go of the bike and stepped back, glaring at Sean.
"We've been looking all over for you," Laurel said. "Come on, get in the car. We need to get home and let the others know we found you."
Sean pulled his feet out of the straps and dismounted from the bike, holding the top tube for balance.
Laurel and Chris half dragged him into the car. Sean's eyes drifted shut. He hadn't realized how tired he was. The car started to move.
"Leave me 'lone," he mumbled when Laurel shook him awake.
"I'm sorry. I can't do that," she said. "You need to warm up before you can sleep. Drink this."
"Don't want to." His eyes were already closing again.
She shook his arm until he opened his eyes and looked blearily at her. She held the Thermos for him until he drank some of the hot liquid inside. Warmth spread through his body. He drank more. Soon his shivering stopped, and he slept.
* * *
Sunlight was streaming around the curtains in a western window when he awoke. His body ached, but he felt more rested than he had in quite a while. He was lying in someone's bed – the one in Miss Burke's guest room, he realized. Someone had left a tray beside the bed, with a Thermos, a teacup, and plates of fruit salad and pumpkin bread. Clothes were folded on the chair. His guitar stood in the corner near the desk.
Sean sat up, ate, and poured and drank a cup of tea. He walked down the hall, showered, got dressed. He wandered back to the guest room and picked up the guitar.
"Good afternoon," Miss Burke said from the doorway. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay." He watched her as she walked inside and started to gather the dishes. He felt himself flush. "I-I … I'm sorry. I can do that." He put down the guitar and reached for the cup.
Miss Burke smiled at him. "Thank you, but I've got it. Why don't you go into the parlor? Your Circle is coming over after school, and there's more room in there."
He nodded. He carried the guitar into the parlor, sat on a chair near the hearth, and started to play. His fingers were stiff and sore, and his playing was off. He kept playing anyway. His fingers slowly loosened up.
Footsteps approached.
Sean looked up from the guitar. The members of the Circle were filing into the room and finding seats on the chairs and sofas and on the brick of the hearth. Their faces were grim.
Sean swallowed. What on Earth had he done this time? He couldn't have – Black John – the dark energy – they couldn't have … come back? He couldn't have killed someone else?
He tried to remember what he had done over the last couple of days. But he was surrounded by too many people, too many accusing eyes. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He stared wildly around the circle, looking from one person to another without really meeting anyone's eyes, gasping for breath.
And then someone was talking. Laurel. "Leave him alone for a minute, you guys. Sean, calm down, will you? We're not going to hurt you."
The pressure of their gazes dissipated. Sean closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. After a couple of minutes, he opened his eyes and looked up.
"Wh-what … what happened?" he asked Laurel, who was sitting beside him. His voice was ragged. "What did I do … this time?"
She looked at him sideways. So did everyone else.
He looked away and stared into the fire.
"You don't … what do you remember?" Laurel asked.
He bit his lip. "I … I know I killed Kori … and …"
"I mean, what do you remember doing yesterday," she interrupted. "Tuesday."
He hesitated. It hadn't been snowing; he'd ridden his bike to school. There had been too many people around, but there were always too many people around at school. He shrugged. "I, uh, I went to school. To class."
"No, you didn't." Suzan's voice was quiet. "You weren't in physics."
But he remembered going to physics … Ms. Murray talking about pendulums … the body swinging back and forth from the pipe …
Don't think about that. He closed his eyes, trying to visualizing the granite cave. The image of the body disappeared. And he remembered that he'd left before physics class, yesterday.
"Sean? Are you all right?" Cassie asked.
He opened his eyes and nodded.
"You didn't go to class on Tuesday," Diana said.
"Yes, I did."
"No, you didn't," Suzan said.
"I … you're right. I didn't go to physics."
"Or algebra," Chris said, scowling at him. "And you weren't at lunch. Nobody knew where you were. We couldn't find you anywhere. Not until after nine o'clock at night."
Sean stared at him blankly.
"Don't you remember?" Laurel asked. "Chris and Doug and I found you out by the mainland bridge, riding your bike – at night, without any lights – and it was negative five degrees outside!"
And then he remembered. The icy chill of the wind as he rode through the night. Hands and feet too numb to feel the brakes or the pedals. Riding in the dark, with no lights on the bike. And he remembered leaving school, riding away, and later realizing that it was almost dark and he didn't know where he was. And finally Chris and Laurel and Doug stopping him, dragging him into the twins' car. And then … well, he was at Miss Burke's house; they must have taken him there.
"Were you trying to kill yourself? Again?" Faye asked conversationally.
Sean stared at her, shocked. "No! I wasn't … I never …"
"Then what the hell were you doing?" Adam asked. "You weren't ready for a long ride. You didn't tell anyone where you were going or when you'd be back. You weren't dressed warmly enough for bicycling in subzero temperatures. You didn't have any food or water with you. You didn't even have any lights on your bike."
Sean looked away. "I … I don't know. I just … I couldn't go to physics. And I just rode."
"For nine hours?" Deborah asked dubiously.
He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just rode until it got dark. And then I turned around and came back."
"But why'd you ride that far in the first place?" Suzan asked. "It was freezing yesterday!"
"No, it wasn't. It wasn't that cold when I left. I … I guess I lost track of time. And I didn't know exactly where I was."
"It was less than twenty degrees all day!" Suzan said.
"Okay. Sean, you're … you're not riding safely," Diana said diplomatically. "You do realize that, don't you? I don't think you should ride your bike for a while."
"But I need to ride!" He stopped. He couldn't tell them why. He couldn't tell them that if he wasn't completely exhausted by the time he got home, he couldn't sleep, and then when he finally did drop off, the nightmares woke him within a couple of hours. And the more tired he was, the worse the memories seemed to be. "I … I … I have to go to school …" he said instead, hesitantly.
"We'll drive you to school," Diana said.
"No!" he glared at her, suddenly furious. "I'm riding my bike to school! I know I should have put the lights on, and paid attention to where I was going, and to the time, and come home sooner, and brought food and water and warmer clothes and gloves. I know that! And next time I will bring that stuff with me. But I … I won't let you take my bike away from me."
His fury passed as suddenly as it had arrived. He looked around the circle nervously. To his surprise, Diana was hiding a smile. So was Laurel. Deborah was openly grinning at him. Nobody seemed angry anymore.
And they didn't take his bike away.
* * *
Sean didn't think he would have made it through the week if the Circle had taken his bike, if he hadn't been able to run every morning and ride to and from school every day. It was bad enough having the members of the Circle watching him, keeping an eye on him, accompanying him, yet again, everywhere he went – not just outside, but at school.
Suzan was waiting at the bike racks when Sean and Chris arrived at school the next day. She nodded at them and walked with Sean through the crowded halls to their English class. And she accompanied him to history class – and sat beside him. Even though she had algebra second period.
Sean scowled at her. "What are you doing?" he asked.
She looked up and smiled at him. "I'm drawing," she said. Then she returned to her drawing pad and continued shading the wing-feathers of an albatross soaring over a stormy sea.
He rolled his eyes, and turned to the front of the classroom. The teacher was asking a question about the causes of World War I. Sean turned away quickly. The last thing he needed was to listen to a discussion about assassinations. He pulled out his French homework and tried to ignore the teacher's and students' voices.
Someone accompanied him to each of his classes that day, and for the rest of the week. He felt the pressure of eyes on him from all around – both outsider and Circle – and Kori and Jeffrey and Mr. Fogle, too.
By the end of the week, he was exhausted. No matter how long he rode or how far and hard he ran during the day, he couldn't sleep. He just couldn't quiet his mind enough to relax; he kept seeing images of Kori and Mr. Fogle and Jeffrey, of hostile outsiders surrounding him at school, staring at him, wanting to burn him at the stake for being a Witch or lock him in jail for what he'd done to Kori and the others; images of the members of the Circle watching him, exasperated by his fears and weaknesses. And none of them left him alone even when he did manage to drop off to sleep – nightmares woke him every night, well before dawn.
* * *
Finally, the weekend arrived. It was unseasonably warm. Sean kept himself busy, trying to forget about the last week of school. He went for a run with Laurel, Melanie, Nick, Adam, and Raj. He finished his chores around the house. He helped Suzan clean the pasture and stalls and joined her for a trail ride after they finished. Suzan rode the spirited Arabian, Inara, skillfully, keeping the mare at a walk. Sean followed on the easy-going Connemara, Lochlan. Raj trotted along behind them.
They rode along the trail without speaking. Sean relaxed, calmed by the steady presence of the placid pony and by the peacefulness of the woods surrounding him. He watched the squirrels scurry about, searching for pine nuts amidst the fallen needles. He listened to the chickadees, and to the jays, and to the lone woodpecker drumming on a tree. He watched Lochlan's ears turn alertly from side to side as the pony listened, calmly and curiously, to every sound. He watched the spirited mare prance in front of him. He watched Suzan ride, unfazed by Inara's snorts and jumps and half-hearted bucks.
After they had traveled a few miles, Inara settled down, walking with a quick, long stride. Suzan let her break into a trot as they rode through the woods. Lochlan followed willingly, trotting quickly as he tried to keep up with the longer-legged mare.
Inara moved into a steady canter as they reached the meadow and the trail widened. Sean didn't need to urge the pony to follow; Lochlan eagerly sped up to a full gallop to catch up with the faster horse. Raj galloped alongside the pony, excited about the race. Sean slowed the pony to a canter as they caught up to Suzan and the mare near the far side of the meadow. They slowed to a trot as the trail narrowed and entered another wooded area.
When they reached the steep descent on the far side of the hill, even Inara was willing to slow to a walk. They remained at a walk as they returned home, following a path along the top of the bluff, allowing the horse and pony to cool down. By the time he and Suzan had untacked and groomed the horse and pony, checked their water buckets, and fed them their evening rations of hay, carrots, and grain, Sean was ready to tackle the homework he'd put off earlier that week. He thanked Suzan for letting him ride the pony and walked home, for once not feeling the need to run. Raj trotted along, and then galloped home to Adam's house after Sean went inside his own house. Sean grabbed his backpack and looked out the den window; he didn't see anyone waiting for him. He walked outside to the playhouse, and sat at the desk to work. He took out his algebra text and paper, and worked until the light dimmed.
There was an oil lamp on one of the shelves. Sean took a book of matches out of the desk drawer and lit the wick, adjusting it so the light burned steadily, neither too bright nor too dim. He turned back to his homework, and laughed. He'd forgotten to look at what the assignment actually was – he'd already finished the problems from the last three chapters of the book. Only the practice tests remained. He shrugged. He might as well finish those, too. He returned to the textbook and worked through the practice tests, checking his answers with the key at the back of the book. His smile was bitter when he finished. Practice tests were easy enough, but they didn't count for anything.
It was getting cold in the unheated structure, too cold to write. Sean stretched out his cramped fingers. He put away his textbook, paper, and pencil, grabbed his backpack, blew out the lamp, and walked outside.
Someone was there – Sean could feel their hatred and anger. He froze. He couldn't hear anything but the wind whistling softly through the trees, and he couldn't see anyone nearby. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but he saw no one. He put the backpack inside the playhouse, pulled the door shut, and slowly, one step at a time, looking carefully all around him, walked down the path toward the house. He stopped before the end of the path, remaining hidden by the trees and shrubbery, and looked toward the road.
There it was – a strange car parked across the street on Crowhaven Road, almost hidden by darkness and the overhanging branches of a big maple. Sean couldn't see, from where he stood, whether or not anyone was inside the car, watching the road and his house or Suzan's. If the outsiders were still in the car, he knew that he could reach the safety of his house before they could get to him. But if they were out of the car, hidden somewhere in the yard …
Sean hesitated. When the witch hunters had gone after Cassie, they had waited for her just outside the door of her house. From where he stood, he couldn't see the front door of his house; he couldn't see whether or not anyone was on the porch. Suzan's house was only an indistinct shape, obscured by trees, from where he stood; someone could as easily be hiding there.
But no one could be hiding outside Adam's house; Raj would let Adam and Mrs. Franklin know if anyone came into their yard. If Sean could get to Adam's house, Adam could call Suzan and the others to warn them.
Silently, Sean walked back the way he had come. He passed the playhouse and crept along the overgrown path to the wall at the far end of the garden. He stopped, looking around and listening for any sign that he was being watched. He saw and heard no one, but he could still feel the oppressive presence. He ran toward the wall, vaulted over, and crouched down on the far side at its base, listening.
No footsteps sounded. No voices. He still couldn't see anyone. Slowly, he made his way toward Suzan's house, keeping to the shadows and shrubs as much as possible. He reached her house, and still saw no one.
Sean passed Suzan's house and made his way toward Adam's. He neared the hedge surrounding Adam's garden, and broke into a run. He jumped over the hedge, raced around the house and sprinted to the porch.
No one followed.
Raj barked, somewhere inside the house. A light went on. Sean rang the bell and turned away from the door. Motion on the far side of the yard caught his eye; a figure dressed in dark colors jumped out from its hiding place behind the forsythias near Suzan's front door. The figure hesitated for a moment, looking in Sean's direction, and raced away toward the car – just as the car's motor roared to life.
The door opened behind him. Raj darted outside and stopped at the edge of the porch, standing protectively in front of Sean with his hackles raised, growling softly as he watched the figure run to the passenger side of the car and climb in. The door shut, and the car roared away.
"Come on inside," Adam said quietly.
Raj obeyed. Sean followed him, and Adam shut and bolted the door. Raj raced to the nearest window and stood, with his front paws on the sill, looking out.
"What happened?" Adam asked. He gestured to a chair, and sat in another.
"Nothing, really," Sean said. He ignored the proffered chair, and paced nervously from one window to another, looking out into the darkness of the empty yard. "I was inside the playhouse, and I felt someone nearby when I stepped outside. It wasn't one of us. I saw the car, but I couldn't see whether or not anyone was in the car. And I couldn't see if anyone was hiding outside my house or Suzan's. So I came here."
Adam nodded. "Raj would've let me know if anyone had come close to my house."
"I know."
"How many did you see? I only saw the one."
"So did I. But I didn't get a good look. And I didn't see the driver. And I don't know if anyone stayed behind when they left. Um, could you call Suzan and Cassie and everybody and warn them? Please?"
Adam nodded again. "Of course. Stay here for now. Have a seat, if you want. Raj and I will drive you home after I call."
"Okay. Thanks," Sean said.
"No problem." Adam jumped up ran to the kitchen.
Sean sank into a chair and waited – for a few seconds. He jumped up and raced to the nearest window and looked out. He didn't see anyone. The outsiders in the car were probably far away by now – but maybe they weren't.
Adam was calling the others; Sean could hear a word here and there. He turned away from the window when Adam returned. "I guess telling us we're not welcome at school isn't enough anymore," he said.
"No. Somebody's out to get us, now." Adam's face was grim. "But we still don't know who. Or how many there are. Or what exactly they're planning to do."