House At The End Of The Street Part 4

"What happened the other night?" Elissa stood, moving to a corner of the barn. She pressed one finger in her ear to drown out the music in the background.

"I'm sorry about that...I..." Ryan sounded strange, as if he were uncertain.

"Are you okay?" Elissa tried.

Behind her, Jake played a few notes on his ba.s.s, finis.h.i.+ng his warm-up. "Hey-are we going to play or what?" he called to her. Robbie stood beside him, adjusting the amps.

"I need to see you," Ryan went on. "There are things I need to tell you."

Elissa glanced back, watching as Robbie walked around in a circle, strumming a few chords. A ten-minute break had turned into a thirty-minute break, and even that wasn't enough time for Elissa to tell Jillian what had happened at Ryan's house two nights ago. Jake looked like he might smash his ba.s.s on the ground if Elissa didn't get off the phone soon.

"I want to see you too," she said. "But I've gotta go now. I'm performing tonight at the Battle of the Bands at school. Why don't you come?"

There was a long pause, until Ryan finally said something that sounded like "okay." She hung up the phone, feeling a hundred things at once-relieved, elated, nervous, confused. What did he want to tell her? Did he realize how hurt she was about the other day? Why had he completely freaked out?

Jillian sidled up beside her. "I would ask who that was, but I can tell by the smile on your face."

Elissa nodded, tucking the phone back in her pocket. "He's coming tonight. He wants to see me."

She would've said more, but Robbie called out to them. "Enough boy talk. We have two hours until the show. Come on, Lissa."

She went to them, listening to Jake count down the song. But as they started to play, she was more excited about the show than ever. Not just because they were genuinely good-most likely the best band competing tonight. And not just because Sarah had (in an attempt to apologize) bought her this cool glow-in-the-dark makeup that would make her radiant under the spotlights. Ryan would be there tonight, and they'd finally talk. Whatever had happened between them the other day-the kiss, that moment on the couch-had been real. It had meant something.

She moved her fingers over the frets, losing herself in the song. When she sang the first few notes, they were clearer than they'd ever been. Tonight was going to be a good night. Elissa could feel it.

Elissa studied herself in the backstage mirrors, liking the way the iridescent paint made the light dance on her skin. She'd let her hair fall down her back in her messy, I-don'tuse-a-blow-dryer waves. In her tight T-s.h.i.+rt and ripped jeans she looked cool, relaxed even. It was times like these she wished her father could see her. There was so much of him in everything she did-even when he wasn't there to witness it.

She stuck her thumb into the pot of makeup, ready to smear some over her eyes, when she saw a familiar face behind her. "You made it," she said, catching Ryan's eyes in the mirror. She stood, not quite certain whether to hug him or not. He seemed like a stranger to her now. His hair was messy and his s.h.i.+rt and jacket were disheveled, as if he hadn't changed in days.

"Yeah...I wanted to wish you luck," he said. He dropped his head to stare at the floor, avoiding her eyes.

"I'm glad you came." She reached for his hands, but Robbie pushed into the room, nearly knocking Ryan over with the door. His face was panicked.

"Dude-you have the big old car, right?" he asked. "Tyler Reynolds and his friends are tras.h.i.+ng it."

Ryan didn't even look at Elissa as he pushed past Robbie, running toward the parking lot. She and Robbie followed behind him. The hallway was crowded with kids waiting to be let into the auditorium. But most of them had left the line and migrated to the windows. They stared into the back parking lot. One girl laughed as Ryan ran past; another boy stood there with his hand over his mouth.

Elissa's heart stopped when they pushed out the back door. Tyler had a baseball bat out. His friends-including Zak, the stoner kid she'd seen him with at school-were all egging him on. He pulled the bat back, then swung it, smas.h.i.+ng Ryan's winds.h.i.+eld. Zak grabbed the bat and landed another blow into a front headlight, sending plastic and gla.s.s flying.

Ryan was running toward them, his face a deep red. As soon as the crowd of boys saw him they turned. Ryan swung at Tyler and the rest of the boys jumped on top of him, one kicking him hard in the side.

"Leave him alone!" Elissa screamed. She turned, looking for help. All of the students in the parking lot stood there frozen, watching. None of them said a word as another guy punched Ryan in the stomach. Ryan tried to stand, but Tyler pushed him down. Elissa ran forward, but a boy named Curtis grabbed her and held her arms. "Get off me!" she screamed.

Tyler looked more callous than he had the night of the party. There was a slow rage burning in his eyes. As Ryan tried to stand, he leaned over him, taunting him. "Mommy's not around anymore to protect you, is she?"

Zak circled them. His hands were still balled into tight fists. "I think he wants to show us what he had for lunch," he spat. With that, he wheeled back, delivering a kick in Ryan's side, just below his ribs. Ryan doubled over in pain.

Tears welled in Elissa's eyes. She couldn't stand to watch anyone being abused like that. "Stop it! You're going to kill him!" she yelled. But as she screamed, Ryan finally raised his head, calmer than she'd ever seen him before. Tyler charged him, whipping his leg around to deliver a blow to Ryan's face, but Ryan caught his ankle in time. He twisted it and Tyler fell, landing hard on the concrete.

Ryan stood, towering above him. His face was streaked with blood. Tyler looked scared for the first time since the fight started. A few of his friends stepped back away from them. Ryan held on to Tyler's foot and twisted it suddenly to one side. Even from a few feet away, Elissa heard the bone snap. Tyler threw his head back in pain.

Curtis dropped her arms. She stood there, frozen, as Ryan stomped on Tyler's ankle again, the bones breaking beneath Ryan's heavy boot. Tyler's face was strange. His chest heaved. It took his friends a second to process it, but Zak stepped forward, angrier than before. "You little b.i.t.c.h!" he yelled at Ryan.

The crowd closed in around him, ready to attack him again. But Ryan broke free just as Zak reached for his s.h.i.+rt. He sprinted across the parking lot and disappeared into the woods. Elissa looked around. There were hundreds of people outside now, even though no one did a thing. A police siren howled in the distance. Curtis knelt down by Tyler's side, trying to help him.

"He's only got one place to go," Zak yelled to the rest of the boys. "Come on."

One by one they piled into his yellow SUV. The ma.s.sive car screeched out of the parking lot.

Elissa couldn't breathe. Her hands shook as she took in the scene. Ryan's father's car had a broken headlight, two broken taillights, and a smashed winds.h.i.+eld. There was a giant dent in the pa.s.senger side door. She smelled something sharp and acidic. It took her a second to realize a few of the boys had urinated on the front hood.

She staggered forward. The pavement was covered with blood. She looked down, studying the small object beside her right shoe. It was the Magic Eight Ball-the plastic toy had broken off the key chain. A few feet away were Ryan's keys, which must've fallen from his pocket during the fight. She picked them up, turning them over in her hands. Ryan was running home. The boys were in the car, trying to beat him there. If and when they did, Ryan would be locked out. Unless she left now, trying to stop them, he wouldn't have a chance.

Robbie let Elissa off in front of her house, too afraid to go any further. "Be safe, Lissa. Don't do anything stupid," he said before pulling away. She'd begged him for a ride. As the police pulled up to the high school, they announced the Battle of the Bands had been canceled, and officers began taking down eyewitness accounts of the fight. An ambulance had shown up. The siren blared as they raised Tyler into the cab, rus.h.i.+ng him off to the hospital.

She watched Robbie's car disappear down the road. She waited at the end of her driveway, studying the yellow SUV that was parked in front of Ryan's house. Zak lit a roll of toilet paper on fire and threw it through a side window. He was screaming something, but Elissa couldn't make out the words from where she was standing. The other boys threw a few rocks at the front windows. Two turned over a giant terra-cotta planter in the back, breaking it. When the curtains caught fire, a glow visible from the lawn, they all piled in the giant vehicle and sped off.

She ran toward the house, clutching the keys in her hand. Ryan was nowhere in sight. She bounded up the steps, trying to open the lock as quickly as she could. The smell of burnt fabric hung in the air. Inside, the living room was quiet. The roll of toilet paper was now a ball of fire, burning on the wood floor beside the couch. The bottoms of the curtains were engulfed in flames.

She ripped them down from the metal rod and stamped the fabric, not stopping until the last of the flames had gone out, the room now filled with smoke. She grabbed the charred remains and threw them in the sink. When the water was rus.h.i.+ng over the smoldering fabric, her heart finally slowed. She let out a deep breath, relieved that she'd made it there in time.

Ryan might've still been coming through the woods, hiding out, not wanting Tyler's friends to find him. Was it possible he'd seen the whole thing? That he was up the hill, in the state park, waiting for Elissa to leave? She looked out the window, into the blackness, but she could only make out the old swing set. The motion-sensor lights had gone on, s.h.i.+ning down on it.

She turned, the wet curtains in her hands. She opened the trash can and was about to throw them inside when something caught her eye. Underneath a few empty soup cans was an empty box of tampons and an old, dried-out bottle of red nail polish. Beside them was a discarded box for temporary contact lenses. She was reaching down for it when her phone went off in her pocket, causing her to jump.

"Where are you?" Sarah's voice called from the other end of the line.

Elissa looked out the front window. Her house stood several yards away, quiet and dark. "I'm at home," she lied.

"You're not with Ryan?" Sarah asked.

"No."

"Elissa, they just admitted Tyler. Did you see what Ryan did to his leg?"

The motion sensors timed out and the lights went off, throwing the kitchen into darkness. "He was defending himself, Mom. About six guys jumped him."

"I want you home," Sarah's voice said again. It was as if she could sense that Elissa was lying. It didn't matter that Elissa had the calls redirected to her cell. Somehow, her mother just knew.

"I am home," she tried again. It was too late to admit the truth. Besides, Sarah would never trust her again if she told her she was in Ryan's house-that just the other day they'd spent the afternoon together while she was at work. "I'll see you later."

She hung up the phone, fis.h.i.+ng through the garbage again, turning over the box of tampons in her hand. Why would Ryan have tampons in his house? Or nail polish? Was it possible he had a girlfriend he hadn't told Elissa about? Was that what he needed to confess? She reached down again, about to dig deeper, when she noticed a thumping noise coming from somewhere below. It was faint-the thump, thump, thump-constant, as if someone were banging on a wall.

She followed the noise, tracing it to a door at the far end of the kitchen. She opened it, staring down a narrow flight of stairs to the bas.e.m.e.nt. She started down them, squinting into the dark. The noise grew louder. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she turned the light on, finally seeing the dryer in the corner. She opened it and the noise slowly stopped. Ryan's sneakers were inside, along with a set of damp clothes.

She pressed her face into her hands, feeling like she was going crazy. What was it that was making her feel so uneasy? What she had said to Sarah was true-Ryan had been defending himself. If he hadn't broken Tyler's ankle, the fight might have continued. Who could've said how long it would've gone on, or what else they would've done to him?

Still...there was something in his face that had startled her. She'd never seen him like that, so angry, the rage bubbling up from deep inside him. Where was he now? And why was he keeping secrets from her? She rested her back against the dryer, staring at a spot on the floor. Her eyes came into focus and she noticed the thin sliver of light running diagonally across the rug. There was a slight dip in the fabric, as if there was something underneath it.

She knelt down, pulling the rug back. Her breaths quickened. Her heart pounded in her ears as she felt along the edge of the trapdoor, where a small rope handle was fixed to the wood. Light came up from the tiny gap where the door met the cement ledge. She listened for a few seconds before opening it.

Beneath the door was a cement hallway. A bare lightbulb was fixed to the wall, brightening the s.p.a.ce. It couldn't have been more than twelve feet long and four feet wide. She peered into it, checking to see if anyone was there. It was completely empty.

She glanced back at the bas.e.m.e.nt door, which was still closed. She couldn't hear anything upstairs. Slowly, she lowered herself into the s.p.a.ce, using the metal ladder to step down. When she was inside, she noticed the door at the end of the hall. It was similar to the front door of their house, a small peephole in its center.

She heard something behind her and spun around, checking to make sure no one was there. She shook out her hands, trying to stop her fingers from trembling, as she settled them on the lock. Before she could overthink it, she twisted the k.n.o.b, pus.h.i.+ng the door open.

The room was empty except for some basic furnis.h.i.+ngs. It looked like a version of Carrie Anne's room upstairs. There was a short, pink table in the corner with a baby monitor and a few toys. Puzzle pieces were scattered on the cement floor. Someone had hung a pink sheet up, giving the s.p.a.ce some color. Everyone said they'd kept her locked up, that Carrie Anne had been isolated for years. Was this where they had put her after the accident?

Elissa started into the room, studying the stuffed animals that were gathered in the corner. The puzzle looked like it was for a young girl-a unicorn was visible on one of the stray pieces. Elissa stooped down to pick it up, when she noticed the wire bolted to one leg of the twin bed. It was pulled taut. She turned, glancing over her shoulder. All she saw was a blur as Carrie Anne charged toward her and let out a horrible scream.

Elissa threw up her hands, trying to fend the girl off, but the attacker grabbed on to her s.h.i.+rt, desperately clawing at her. She pinned Elissa to the floor, her tears wetting Elissa's s.h.i.+rt. She kept grabbing at her, ripping at her clothes, her fists pounding against Elissa's arms.

"Carrie Anne! Stop!" a familiar voice yelled.

Within seconds Ryan yanked the girl off of her, pulling her back and away. He wrapped his arm around her neck and, for the first time, Elissa noticed that a handkerchief was tied around her jaw, gagging her. The girl kept pointing at something behind Elissa. She turned, noticing a pink sweats.h.i.+rt on the bed. penn state was printed across it.

A cold rush came over her. She couldn't identify what it was exactly, but everything in her body was screaming for her to run. "Get out," Ryan yelled. He held the girl tightly to his chest. "Go back upstairs, please. I got this."

She started toward the door, and the girl thrashed wildly, kicking and punching Ryan as best she could. He pulled a little syringe from his back pocket and stuck it into her arm, and within seconds she went still. Elissa climbed the metal ladder, trying to process what she had seen. That was Carrie Anne? She had stared at her with those bright blue eyes, but there was nothing deranged or crazy in them-only fear.

"Please calm down, Carrie Anne," Elissa heard Ryan whisper behind her. "You're going to hurt yourself again." She climbed the ladder, then ran up the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs. She didn't stop running until she was back in the kitchen. Her whole body was shaking from the encounter. What was he doing with Carrie Anne? Why was she locked down there, and for how long?

The kitchen was quiet, the sound of a bird far off in the distance. She glanced at her house across the way, wis.h.i.+ng for the first time she hadn't lied to her mother. Wis.h.i.+ng that Sarah was there now, the light in the living room on, as she settled down on the couch. Her stomach was twisting, making her feel like she could throw up at any minute. Ryan felt like a stranger to her. She turned on the faucet, listening to the sound of the water rus.h.i.+ng down the drain.

She reached for the thin stream but paused, noticing a small piece of plastic that clung to her forearm. She pinched it off and held it up to the window, studying it in the faint moonlight. The soft, supple dome had a blue circle on it. It was a contact lens-the tinted kind.

She spun around, looking at the drawings hanging on the refrigerator. The crayon drawing of the Jacobsen family featured Carrie Anne out front, her blond hair falling down her back. Whoever had drawn it had given her huge blue eyes, just like the ones Elissa had seen in the picture of her in Ryan's room.

She felt like she was going to be sick. She went to the trash can, pulling out the empty cartons she'd seen before. The box of contact lenses was there, just below the tampon container. She read the label on its front: Tinted Contact Lenses-Brilliant Blue. She turned, about to leave, when something below it caught her eye.

There was a pink leather wallet with a metallic heart on the front. She picked it up, sensing what it was before she opened it. There, inside the plastic flap, was a driver's license. The picture showed a girl with thin blond hair falling over her shoulders. The birth date said she was nineteen. rebecca oliver, the name read. blond hair, brown eyes. Tucked beside it was a photo booth picture of her and a friend, their cheeks pressed together as they smiled for the camera.

Elissa felt numb. Oh my G.o.d. This girl-Rebecca-was in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Ryan had been keeping her there for who knew how long, pretending she was his sister. He had kidnapped her. The dots connected in her head slowly, but her body was already turned to go when she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Before she could reach the door, he came up behind her, yanking the wallet from her grasp.

"Give me that," he yelled.

Elissa took a step back, trying to stay calm. She smiled a half smile, hoping he would believe she'd misunderstood- that she hadn't seen what she did. But he stalked closer, his features dark. "You have to promise not to tell anybody about Carrie Anne," he said. His voice was cold. "Promise me."

"I won't tell anyone," Elissa said. She backed toward the door. She was only a few feet away from the front porch. If she could just convince him she would keep his secret...if she could just a.s.sure him of that fact, maybe she would get out of this alive.

Elissa drew her cell phone from her pocket, flipping it open. Everything her mother had said to her in the past few days rushed through her head. She'd been able to see it so clearly-that there was something amiss about this boy who lived alone in the house where his parents were murdered. Why was I so stubborn? I didn't listen. The thought brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back, trying not to appear weak.

"I have to go," she said softly, scrolling down her contact list to her mother's cell. "My mom called me."

She reached the door just as she pushed send. But before she could open it, Ryan was upon her. Her grabbed the back of her head and slammed her into the wall right beside the doorframe. She saw a flash of light, then felt a violent throbbing. Her vision blurred. As she reached for her forehead, the phone fell from her hands. A heavy, dizzy feeling set in.

The last thing she remembered was his hands underneath her arms as he pulled her backward. A thin trickle of blood came down her forehead. She watched the front door get farther and farther away, the cell phone open on the floor as he dragged her deeper into the house.

Elissa awoke a little while later. Her head was still throbbing. The room slowly came into focus. She was back down in the hidden room in the cellar, sitting in a wooden chair in the corner. The blond girl-Rebecca, she reminded herself-was strapped down to the bed, still unconscious. Elissa's first instinct was to get up, to run, but when she tried to move she noticed the restraints around her wrists. He'd tied her arms and legs to the chair with thin plastic twine.

She looked up, watching as Ryan paced the length of the hall. He looked agitated. He kept biting at his fingers, ripping small pieces of skin away from the nail.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. She tried to keep her voice calm. She wanted him to believe that he could let her go, that she wouldn't reveal his secret-that that was still an option.

He wiped at his bloodshot eyes and took a ragged breath. "Carrie Anne died that day on the swings. It was my fault. She was so small, and I grabbed her hand; I pulled her off the swing and she fell. There was this horrible crunching sound. I didn't know what had happened, but her eyes went completely cold. It was like she wasn't there anymore. She was just so little...." He crumpled against the doorframe, putting his face in his hands. He kept banging his palms against his brow, as if he were trying to get a memory out of his head.

Elissa slowly processed what he'd said, the fear building inside her. Every hair on the back of her neck was standing up straight. "If she died, then who killed your parents?"

"I can't live without her. She was my sister, and it was all my fault. They said it was my fault," he wailed.

Elissa let out a slow breath. "You can live without her. You have me now." She tried to sound sweet and inviting, hoping her voice would calm him down.

He looked at her, his eyes blurry with tears. He seemed so disoriented. "You're not Carrie Anne. I can't have you both-I don't deserve it. They were trying to punish me. You have to understand. They wanted to punish me for what I did."

Elissa tried to contain the terror she felt. She wanted to scream, to try desperately to be heard. How much longer would it be before her mother got home and realized she wasn't there? Had the call gone through? If Sarah had called her back and hadn't gotten a response, she would've tried again until Elissa picked up. It was possible she knew something was wrong.

She watched Ryan rock slowly back and forth, his hands still pounding his forehead. If Carrie Anne had died years before, then Ryan must have been the one to murder his parents-there was no one else who could have done it. That seemed plausible now. She'd never seen someone so unhinged. All that time she'd believed he was still recovering from the trauma he suffered as a child, but doing okay. She felt so stupid now, so naive. But how could she have predicted this-that he was so wildly not okay?

He stood up straight suddenly. Afraid he might strike her again, she felt her back go rigid. Instead, he moved methodically, untying Rebecca's restraints. The girl's body was limp as he scooped her up and started back down the hall. "I can't have both of you," he muttered. "I'm not allowed."

"Ryan!" Elissa screamed. She pulled against the twine, but it cut into her skin, holding her down. "Ryan, where are you taking her?"

There was no reply.

He was gone for twenty minutes, maybe more. It was hard to know what was happening upstairs. She thought she heard the garage door opening or the sound of a car trunk slamming shut. She watched the small baby monitor in the corner. It had a screen that showed an interior shot of the living room. She kept her eyes on it, wondering if her mother would come to the door or if he would cut across the shot, but neither of them ever appeared on-screen.

On the wall of the room was another picture of Carrie Anne. She looked older than five. In the photo she must've been twelve, at least. Who was that girl, then? Had Ryan lied about when and how she died? The photograph was taken from the side. Carrie Anne's long blond hair fell in her eyes, half hiding her face. On a mirror on the far wall in the image she could see the tiny silhouette of his parents, the mother holding the camera taking the shot. Mrs. Jacobsen's face looked strangely distant.

Elissa kept studying the girl's profile. It felt oddly familiar. She must have been at least twelve, but the math didn't add up. Ryan had said Carrie Anne had died when she was five and he was seven. Elissa was certain of that.

She looked at the slope of the girl's nose, the strange way the hair sat on her head, slightly thicker and coa.r.s.er than what you would imagine for a girl who was that age. The strangest thought came to her then. Is it possible-?

Ryan came back. He was calmer, his body relaxed. He went to the table and started fis.h.i.+ng through the drawers, looking for something. "What happened, Ryan? Where is she?" Elissa tried. He ignored her, pretending she hadn't spoken at all.

He was rifling through the drawer when a small, red light flashed above the door. It blinked twice and he turned, starting back out the door.

"It wasn't your fault she died, Ryan," Elissa said, trying to engage him in conversation. "It was an accident. You were so young." If she could just keep him there, she might be able to talk him into letting her go free.

"No, it wasn't," Ryan snapped. "It was my fault. That's why they punished me."

"What do you mean they punished you?" Elissa tried.

"But then I stopped them."

"Tell me what you mean, Ryan," she tried again. "Tell me what happened to your parents. I can keep your secrets."