Lost in the Never Woods(37)

“Hey.” Jordan gently touched Wendy’s arm. Worry was written across her best friend’s face. “What’s going on with you?”

Of course Jordan wouldn’t believe something that sounded so impossible. Wendy wouldn’t, either, if the roles were reversed.

“It’s nothing, really,” Wendy said. “All these kids going missing is starting to get to me.” That was true enough. “And I’m not getting enough sleep.” She tried to force her lips up into a smile. “Like I said, I’m just really tired.”

Jordan didn’t look very convinced, but her expression softened. The way she chewed on her bottom lip made Wendy think she was going to press further, but after a moment she just let out a heavy sigh. “Okay…” Then more resolutely, “Okay.”

Jordan cut the engine. Without the air conditioner running, the car quickly grew hot under the afternoon sun. Sweat immediately prickled on the small of Wendy’s back.

“Go home and go to bed early tonight,” Jordan said. She gave Wendy a small smile and crinkled her nose. “Drink some of that nasty chamomile tea you like so much.”

“Okay, Mom,” Wendy said, trying to follow suit and ease the tension. She slung her bag over her shoulder and got out of the car.

“You’re not funny,” Jordan called after her. It lacked her usual ring of humor. Jordan didn’t leave until Wendy was in her truck and the engine had roared to life.

Wendy gripped the steering wheel, the leather hot and sticky under her palms. She was parked at just the right angle so the sun glinted in the scratches left on her windshield.

Wendy took the long way home.

The front door was unlocked. Wendy’s mom’s car was gone, but her father’s waited in the driveway. She walked into the living room and found him sitting on the couch. His head was tilted back and snores rumbled from under his bushy mustache. The local news was on the television. Benjamin Lane and Ashley Ford smiled at her from the screen.

Wendy turned away and went into the kitchen. The guilt and fear were starting to harden into anger. If what Peter had said was true, then they needed to do something.

She tossed her bag on the counter, turned on the faucet, and rinsed off the dishes in the sink. There were mostly coffee mugs, one with a tea bag still in it from her mom’s usual pre-work cup.

As she scrubbed at a dirty pot, Wendy tried to figure out how she would even find Peter. Yes, he was hiding out at a hunting shack in the woods, but where? Even if she did know the location, there was no way in hell she could force herself to go searching through the woods on her own, even in broad daylight. Her heart pounded erratically just thinking about it.

Luckily, Peter seemed to pop up out of nowhere, so maybe she didn’t need to go find him—maybe he’d just show up. Wendy turned off the faucet and gazed at the glass doors that led to the backyard, half expecting to see him standing there. She tried not to think about how creepy it was that he could find her so easily in the first place.

Although, he’d given no real reason to be afraid of him, had he? He certainly wasn’t intimidating. There was no way someone with that much happy energy was dangerous. Someone who smiled like that—with complete abandon and not an ounce of self-consciousness—couldn’t be insidious.

Frowning, Wendy dried her hands on a dish towel. What now? It was dark out but too early to try to go to sleep, even with Jordan’s orders. She couldn’t watch something on TV because she wanted to leave her father undisturbed. There was no way she could concentrate enough to read a book. Maybe more chores were the solution.

There was her swim bag that needed to be cleaned out, still shoved under the passenger seat of her truck. She wasn’t part of a summer team like Jordan, so it had been abandoned. The only use it’d gotten this summer was as a trash receptacle for the dozens of crumpled-up drawings Wendy had hidden. She really needed to practice and get some laps in at the aquatic center so she’d be ready to try out for the college swim team in the fall. Maybe having a fresh towel and clean suit would give her the motivation.

Careful not to wake up her father, Wendy snuck out the front door to where her truck was parked in the driveway. She opened the passenger-side door and leaned down to pick up her purple duffel bag when the streetlight in front of her house went out soundlessly. Wendy yanked her bag out of the truck and stood up. Everything plunged into darkness. Even the streetlight from across the road didn’t seem to reach very far.

Almost immediately, her heartbeat thudded in her veins. Wendy mentally chided herself—was she really that afraid of the dark?

But it was more than just that. Something was … off.

The air felt heavy and her chest felt tight. Something sharp dragged up her spine, like a nail ghosting over her skin. A violent shudder ran through her. The air shifted, as if someone was standing right behind her. Wendy sucked in a breath and turned to rush back inside.

“Hello.”

The sudden greeting caused all the nerves in her body to jump. Wendy swung around, clutching her duffel bag.

A boy who looked about her age stood just a couple of yards away. Wendy squinted at him. In the dark, she could make out his outline and vague features, but she couldn’t see the details of his face.

“Hi?” she said warily.

“You’re Wendy Darling, right?” he asked. As Wendy inched toward the front door, he took a step closer.