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“Oh my, what is that you are reading my dear?”

Tina looked down at her book. It was Necroscope by Brian Lumley and it sported a wicked looking skull on the cover, one which often did startle people who weren’t ready for it. “It’s a novel about a young man who can communicate with the dead who also fights vampires during the Cold War.”

“How dreadful.”

“It’s pretty good. Way better than the romantic vampire garbage that most people read today.”

The librarian smiled. “Not a Twilight fan?”

“God no!” Tina wanted to add a vomit sound to this, but held back.

“Thank goodness. There is at least one sane girl in this school.”

Tina smiled. She had heard stories of some of the fights that had broken out when the school got the Twilight books, fights that had gotten pretty vicious, especially when someone shouted that Jacob was a loser. Jimmy had told her all about it, said some crazy mothers had even called the school because they were angry that their sons and daughters — daughters mostly — had not been allowed to use the book for English reports. The teacher hadn’t banned the book from being used as a report topic, but instead had only allowed one or two students to do a report on it, and parents had gotten upset because they felt only their son or daughter would be able to give the story justice in front of the classroom.

“I’m an Anne Rice fan myself, though I do enjoy a really good horrific vampire story as well,” the librarian added.

“Well you might want to check out these,” Tina said while lifting the book. “My boyfriend loaned me this copy and said that there are a dozen more.”

“I will do that. And now I better close this place down. Good luck finding a spot to wait.”

“Thanks,” Tina said and headed for the doors. Ten minutes later she was sitting outside of the girl’s locker room on the far left of the school, her body lounging across a old wooden bench, her book open, her eyes going from line to line waiting to see if Harry Keogh managed to outsmart the Soviet supported East German police as he searched for the grave of a man he needed to talk with.

It was an exciting scene.

A breeze came out of nowhere and turned several pages forward in the book. Tina swore and flipped the pages back until she found where she had been.

Her eyes did not return to the page, however, but looked over at the deserted field. With school over in two weeks (three for anyone who had to take finals) the practice fields were empty, the sport programs over for the year. An eerie thought settled in as she realized how alone she was. Sure, there were janitors and teachers and office officials still in the school, but out here there was no one. Isolating her even more was the area she had chosen to wait. During the outdoor sport seasons the area would have been packed with girls coming and going from the locker room, but now there was no one. She was completely alone.

What if the kidnapper is watching me now?

Beyond the sport fields was the sidewalk she always walked home on, one that everyone said Samantha King and Megan Reed had been on when they both disappeared — though no one could understand why Megan Reed had gone that way when her house was on the other side of town.

Tina shivered at the thought of someone coming out at her while walking home. Thankfully she always had Jimmy with her.

Were the two even kidnapped? What if this was just some hoax they were playing?

This was a thought some people had voiced today after the assembly, though most thought it unlikely. One girl disappearing right before prom and graduation could be explained with the runaway theory, but two girls, both back to back like this was a stretch.

Then again, they were good friends, so it wasn’t completely improbable. Still, Tina now fell into the majority that thought something bad had happened. The question was what and why?

Tina shook her head and went back to reading her book, but unfortunately her eyes could no longer focus on the story because they kept looking up and scanning the horizon, one which was growing darker and darker as thick clouds once again moved in.

Behind her the door to the locker room was thrown open with a bang causing her to jump up from the bench and twist around, book clutched against her chest. A second later a janitor pushing a huge cleaning contraption that held a garbage can, broom, mop, bucket and other sanitation tools wedged everything through the door.

Tina eyed the tools on the cart and hoped that one day she would not be skilled enough in their uses to be considered a professional.

The guy stared at her for several seconds and then said, “What’re you still doing here?” It was a voice that was trying to hold authority, yet fell short; a voice that would still cower to teachers in the hallway despite being the same generation as them. Teachers in turn would talk down when replying to that voice and treat its owner as if they were students themselves.

“Um, waiting for my Mom to pick me up,” Tina said. She was still standing, her book clutched against her breasts, which were heaving in and out with each breath.

“Schools closed. No students allowed on the grounds.” A second later he added, “No loitering. It’s against the law.” He seemed proud of himself after that statement.

“But I’m waiting to be picked up.” A part of her had known someone would probably say something to her while she waited outside between four-thirty and five-thirty, which was why she had chosen such an isolated spot. Her mind had never pictured a janitor saying something, though, and now she thought about Samantha and Megan and how often serial killers and perverts took jobs as janitors at schools so they could be around young girls without looking suspicious. “My Mom should be here any second.”

“Go wait somewhere else.”

“I can’t,” she said, and then once again, just in case he had any ideas, added, “She’ll be here soon!”

The janitor continued to stare at her and for a moment Tina wondered if he was considering how easy it would be to grab her and take her to his car, an act that would probably go unseen and unheard on this side of the school.

“I’m reporting you,” the janitor said and turned to head back inside.

Tina sighed and took a much needed breath, her lungs having halted its production line for a moment. A second later she started to wonder if she would be in trouble for waiting out here like this, and for not doing as the janitor said, but then let the thought fade because her mother had insisted she wait and the library was closed. Besides, chances were the janitor wouldn’t even report her given the odd social position they carried in the school, one that had them hovering above the students but below the teaching staff. Most likely the man would feel just as uncomfortable walking into the dean’s office as a student would, and even if he did get up the courage to do so and report her, the dean probably wouldn’t care. In fact, if she remembered correctly, she once heard second hand from someone about a janitor that reported overhearing students talking about doing a ‘bigger than Columbine’ school shooting and reported it. Nothing was done until a few weeks later when a teacher reported hearing the same students making similar comments. An investigation uncovered evidence that what the students had been saying was true.

Tina sat back down on the bench and tried to get back into her book, but once again had a hard time focusing.

A horn honked.

Tina looked up and saw a car pulled alongside the walkway that encircled the school, the driver looking at her through the windshield, face and body blanketed by shadow.

For a moment she had no idea if the driver was trying to get her attention, or someone else, and looked around to see if someone else had been waiting without her knowing.