Prince Charming
Paige had been missing for more than three
weeks. She’d been there for the first two days of school, then suddenly she
vanished. No one, including Drew, knew where she had gone.
Out of nearly four hundred kids that lived
on the campus of Winston School, Paige had been Drew’s favorite. He’d kept in
touch with her over the summer break. Nothing big deal. There had been a few
emails and texts, and a bunch of likes on the things he’d added to his social
media accounts. Paige had been quite a bit more adventurous than he had been,
though. She’d spent part of the holiday
back at home with her family near Raleigh but, according to Instagram, she’d
done some traveling, too. She’d spent a lot of time at the beach and visited every
single lighthouse residing along the Outer Banks.
Drew hadn’t done much outside of Asheville
over the summer. G-Ma was getting up in years and hadn’t been feeling well
since falling ill earlier in the spring. Pneumonia is a hard thing to bounce
back from when you’re in your seventies. It seemed to Drew that G-Ma had always
been old, but age was a strange concept to a kid still too young to drive. She’d
been sixty-three when he was born and not quite sixty-seven when she’d legally
adopted him. His parents hadn’t been around for a long time. He’d never met his
dad and had no idea where the man had ended up. His mom? She was a different
story. He knew exactly where to find her. She was buried near a marble angel
statue in the Asheville cemetery and had been since Drew was four. His memories
of her were hazy at best. At least none of them were bad.
At the beginning of sixth grade, Drew had
become a boarder at Winston. The drive between G-Ma’s house and the front gates
took less than fifteen minutes, but it felt like a whole different world there
at the school. G-Ma was great. She was funny and kind. The two of them had a
good relationship. When she mentioned one day at breakfast the fact that she’d
been doing some research on the school, Drew knew it wasn’t because she didn’t
want him around. She wanted him to have a life, one beyond hiking and camping
with Uncle Jack four or five times a year. He liked it on campus. Life was good
at Winston School. At least it had been until Paige disappeared.
Drew walked along one of the many outside
paths that snaked around the more than three hundred acres that comprised the
campus. He’d been walking around in a daze since Paige went missing. It had
always felt safe here at the school until that day.
He looked up to see a group of boys, most
of them in the upper grades, engaged in a spirited game of basketball. His pace
slowed as he walked past. He knew several of the players. One of them gave him
a lazy wave and Drew swallowed as he studied Henry Wills, or Hank as he liked
to be called.
Hank was a sophomore and three years older
than Drew. They’d met last year when they wound up in the same art class
together. Drew had no business taking art. Stick figures were a stretch for
him, but Hank? He had real talent, although his creations were a bit dark for
Drew’s taste.
There were other things about Hank that
set him apart from the other kids Drew hung out with. Hank was different. Drew sent
Hank a tentative wave back and turned. Truth be known, Hank was more than
different. He was scary.
Drew spotted Mrs. Dunleavy, his biology
teacher, sitting on a bench outside Mitchell Hall. He didn’t think that she was
part of the faculty that lived on campus, so he was surprised to see her on the
grounds on a Saturday afternoon. She called to someone and Drew moved his eyes
to see a small girl running across the lawn. She had blonde pigtails and held a
large butterfly net in one tight fist.
Mrs. Dunleavy leaned forward. “There’s
one!” she said, raising her hand and pointing up into the air. The grassy area
was surrounded by dogwood trees, the largest of them standing twenty-five feet
tall against the brilliant, blue sky. The little girl swung her net trying to
catch some of the red leaves that had fallen from the branches above her. Swipe, swipe, swipe. “Did you get it?”
The child brought the net close to her
face and grinned. “Look, Mommy! I caught three of them! Three butterflies.
Aren’t they pretty?”
Drew watched her for a moment. The leaves
did sort of resemble butterflies, he thought. A Lacewing, perhaps, or maybe an
Atlas Moth. The kid had an imagination. He liked that in a person. He smiled—something
he hadn’t done in a while—and made his way to his dorm.
His shoes thudded on the stairs as he
climbed to the second floor. He could hear music coming from an open door down
the hall and knew his roommate, Brice, was inside. He stepped in to the room
and saw clothes draped over every surface.
“Really, dude?” Drew asked, the momentary
lift in his mood taking another downward turn. He walked over to his desk, his
eyebrows drawn together as he noticed a pair of Captain America boxers flung
over the back of his chair.
“All the dryers were being used,” Brice
said in way of explanation. He was lying
on his bed tossing a baseball up into the air. He caught it, then threw it
again. “I have some rope somewhere. I thought about using it as a clothesline.”
“That would have saved me from having to
do my history homework with wet underwear at my back.”
“Eh,” Brice shrugged him off. “That sounds
like a lot of work. Besides, they’re almost dry.”
Drew sighed. This school year was off to
an awful start.
“Hey,” Brice said as Drew unzipped his
backpack. “What’s up with that Henry Wills kid?”
Drew dropped his history book on his desk.
“Met him already, have you?” He dug around and gathered two pencils and a pen.
“In the office this morning. He ran into
me as he was walking out. Pissed me off ‘cause he had plenty of room.”
“That sounds like Henry, alright. I
wouldn’t call him that if I was you, though.”
“Why not?”
“He doesn’t like it. The last kid who
called him that got popped a good one in the eye.” He slapped a spiral notebook
next to the history text and tossed his backpack on his bed. “Okay, maybe that
wasn’t the last kid, but it was the one I saw. Anyway, it’s just safer to call
him Hank.”
“He doesn’t look that tough.”
Drew plopped down in his chair, mindful
not to lean back against the Cap. “Whatever, man,” he said, opening his book.
“I don’t know him all that well. Just remember to duck if you decide to use his
given name. Matty looked pretty cool with his shiner, but it probably hurt like
hell when Hank gave it to him.”
Brice didn’t seem to have any more thoughts
on the subject. “So, did you know the girl that disappeared? What’s her name,
Pamela? Peggy?”
“Paige,” Drew said, turning quickly in his
seat. His voice was harsher than he’d meant it to be, but he wasn’t sorry for
it. “Her name is Paige Carson, and yes, I know her.”
Brice sat up and swung his feet to the
floor. “Sorry, man. I didn’t realize y’all were friends.”
“Whatever.” Drew turned around again,
feeling tears sting the backs of his eyes.
“What do you think happened to her?”
Drew bit the inside of his cheek. He’d
talked to Paige not two hours before the police suspected she’d gone missing. She’d
shown him the two new charms she’d gotten for her bracelet over the summer. One
second she was gushing about her new jewelry and the next she was telling him
about how excited she was that she and a bunch of her friends had managed to
gather enough girls to start an unofficial flag football league. They were set
to have their first practice that afternoon. He loved that about Paige. She was
feminine and girly, but bad ass and tough all at the same time.
“I don’t know,” Drew answered, his eyes
closed and his back still facing Brice. It was true. Nothing about Paige’s
disappearance made sense to him. The only thing he knew for certain was that
she hadn’t gone anywhere on her own. If she’d left the campus, it was because someone
had taken her.
~~~
He came out of sleep slowly, not knowing
what it was that had pulled him from his dreams. He kept his eyes closed and
listened. What was that sound?
He rolled over, trying to ignore it. It
was faint, but oddly familiar. He gave up and tried to blink away the darkness,
but it was so black it felt as though he wore a blindfold over his eyes.
“Brice?”
Drew could hear the other boy snoring
softly from his side of the room. The noise was obviously not bothering him.
What was that? Drew knew he wouldn’t be
able to get to sleep again and climbed out of bed. He’d get in trouble if he
was found roaming the grounds in the middle of the night, but now that he was
awake he felt restless. He stuffed his feet into his sneakers and quietly left
the room.
Patches of clouds moved across the sky,
the moon playing hide and seek behind them. It was chilly, somewhat breezy, and
Drew could smell the change of the seasons as the air softly moved his over long
bangs across his forehead. There it was again. Drew squinted as if that would
make it easier to listen. That was the sound of a shovel. Someone was digging.
Drew followed the noise, mindful of
alerting any of the faculty to his nighttime activities. The sound grew louder
as he walked through the main courtyard and around the science building. In
another few minutes, he spotted a figure moving beneath a copse of trees. Drew
squinted again, this time trying to separate the movements of human and shadow.
Was that Hank?
Yes, Drew decided. It was Hank and he was
standing beside a large hole. The blade of the shovel glinted momentarily in
the silvery moonlight. There was something else resting by the edge of the hole.
Something long. Something covered by a light covered fabric. A sheet? Drew wasn’t
sure.
He watched as Hank tried to move the
covered object. When the older boy gave it a hearty nudge with his booted foot,
it rolled and part of the sheet fell to the ground revealing something pale. Drew’s
stomach clenched when he realized what it was.
It was an arm. And around the wrist shone
a hint of gold. A charm bracelet. Paige’s
charm bracelet.
“Oh, my god …” Drew breathed, immediately
reaching up to cover his mouth with the palm of his hand. The world closed in
around him and he thought he might pass out. No. This couldn’t be happening.
This had to be a nightmare. He was still upstairs in the dark, nestled in the
warmth of his bed listening to Brice snort in his sleep. This was unreal. This
was Stephen King crap, and Drew really hated horror fiction.
He turned and ran around the corner of the
building, hitting full speed as he reached the courtyard. The soles of his
shoes slipped on the grass, his arms flailing to keep him upright as he
thundered up the steps of Clay Hall.
“No,” he whispered to himself as bile
built up in the back of his throat. “No, no, no …”
He slipped into his room, the latch
engaging as he fell against the door. He slid down, landing hard on his butt.
He cried then, his sobs quiet at first then growing louder. Time passed. Thirty
minutes? An hour? He wasn’t sure, but eventually he woke Brice who sat up in
his bed.
“What the hell, man? What’s goin’ on?” He
reached over and turned on his bedside lamp. “Dude, are you crying?”
Drew heard another noise, this time right
outside the door. The breath caught in his throat and he stilled, his heart
beating hard inside the cage of his chest. He felt something move against his
hand and quickly looked down to see a sheet of paper as it was pushed beneath
the door.
“Drew?” Brice asked.
“Shhh!” Drew shushed him. He screwed his
eyes shut and listened as footsteps sounded in the hall once more, this time
retreating. He swallowed, then opened his eyes very slowly. If there had been a
doubt in his mind about whether or not it was Hank he’d seen outside, what he
was looking at now wiped it completely away.
It was a drawing done in pencil. He didn’t
know many people who could render the human face with such precision and
expertise as this. No, the person who had drawn this had taken his time,
studied his subject long and hard and had come up with a perfect replica of the
real thing. It was Paige staring back at him from the rough, white sketch
paper. Her eyes were wide and full of fear. Her lips were slightly parted and
she looked utterly terrified.
“Hank,” Drew whispered, his fingertips
running across the black lines that had been drawn so carefully. “Hank killed
Paige.”
Brice’s eyes fluttered in surprise before
he fell back against his pillows again. He threw his arm over his face and
sighed. “Unbelievable.” Drew saw him shake his head. “If I’d wanted to live
with these kinds of freak show antics, I’d a just stayed at home.”
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