Undead Girl Gang(47)

“Did you know that she lived near you?” I ask Riley.

Riley turns and looks out the window, her bloodless lips pressed together. The lawn of the Greenway Funeral Home is a bright green beacon coming closer and closer to us. Xander isn’t home yet, and there aren’t enough cars around for a service. I can picture Mr. and Mrs. Greenway inside, listening to the emptiness echoing throughout their home. I wonder if we’ll even find Dayton in the neighborhood or if Riley just wanted to glimpse her own house.

“We’re here!” June suddenly blurts out.

I slam on the brakes. Dayton’s house is across the street and four doors down from the funeral home, but it’s still too close for comfort. I can see the sun glinting off the hearse’s trim. Riley hesitates for a second before unbuckling herself.

June, however, pops out of the car and tips her face up to the sunlight like she’s photosynthesizing. I get out and run to her side.

“Can you attempt to be less conspicuous, please?” I whisper loudly, grabbing her arm and dragging her back over to the car. “If you get recognized, it will be really fucking bad for all of us. And for whoever recognizes you.”

Riley hugs herself, her spine so stiff that I’m positive she’s actively restraining herself from looking back at her house. Or running to it. “Aren’t we about to get recognized by Dayton’s whole family? How are we supposed to search for her without being noticed?”

June flicks her wrist at the empty driveway. “There’s no one here. No minivan, no Nesseths. They can’t use the garage because they converted it into a playroom. We’ll go around.”

She strides past the garage, disappearing around the corner. Riley cuts her eyes at me, and I give her a half shrug. Breaking into the Nesseths’ backyard is pretty low on the scale of weird shit we’ve done this week. I let her go ahead of me. I want to believe that she wouldn’t bail and run home to see her parents, but I’m honestly not sure.

The side gate opens with a pull of a cord, which seems pretty trusting of Dayton’s family. I hold my breath, waiting for an alarm or even a barking dog, but I hear nothing except the sound of June’s shoes on the gritty stone path.

The backyard is huge. Against the back fence is a long pool that’s still mouthwash blue and leafless, even though it’s autumn. There are toys everywhere—a tiny bicycle with training wheels next to the gas barbecue, plastic dolls and Frisbees partially hidden in the grass, bottles of bubbles and tubs of sidewalk chalk nestled next to the sliding glass door.

I never thought about how many siblings Dayton had. I remember seeing some little kids at her and June’s memorial service, but I hadn’t paid any attention to them. Seeing the lone little bike makes my stomach clench in a way that I know is unrelated to magic.

June presses her face to the door, but the glass is obscured by white lace curtains. Behind them is the faint shape of a dining room table, but there’s no movement.

Riley stands next to me, eerily still. Her elbow knocks into mine, and I turn to see her deep frown, her hat hiding almost all the misery in her eyes.

Almost.

June gives up on the door and whirls on us. “Can’t you . . . you know? Sense her? Isn’t that one of your powers?”

I scowl at her. I really don’t like the word powers. It makes me sound like I’m pretending to be a Monster High doll. Otherwise, she’s right. I should be able to feel if Dayton’s nearby. The terror of being caught trespassing is just getting in the way.

“Or do you need to have something more organic to help you out?” Riley adds tightly.

“I’m sorry you can’t do magic anymore,” I say, louder than I mean to. “But can you not be an asshole right now? I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Sorry,” she says. She bites her bottom lip and turns toward the pool. “I didn’t think it would be this hard to be back but not—Holy shit!”

Her arms drop to her sides, and she takes three long strides toward the pool. She gets so close to the edge that I’m terrified she’s going to dive in and recreate her death. Instead, she kneels down and points toward the deep end.

At the back corner of the pool and eight feet down is Dayton. Her body is coiled into the fetal position, her hair floating around her head in wisps.

“Jesus Christ,” June says, running to Riley’s side. “Why isn’t she floating? Shouldn’t she be floating? Dead bodies float.”

Dayton’s head pops up, and all three of us jump back. Bubbles come out of her mouth as she smiles up at us. Feet fluttering, she propels herself upward in a fluid sea otter twist. Her head breaks the surface, and she blinks water out of her eyes.

“Oh, hi,” she says, bobbing slightly as she treads water. Across the chest of her high-necked bathing suit are the letters FACS—Fairmont Academy Charter School.

“That’s all you have to say?” June says, putting her hands on her hips. “I thought you were dead! Again. Or more. You know what I mean!”

“Nope,” Dayton says with a sunny smile that doesn’t crease her cheeks quite as deeply as it usually does. “I’m the normal amount of dead. Well, I’m a little prunier than normal.” Her body dips down lower into the water as she holds up a hand. The tips of her fingers look like brains.

“Why the fuck are you hiding at the bottom of a swimming pool?” Riley asks.